A Taste of Java

Ever hear a black man greet you with the word “Howdy” in late July and sincerely mean it?
Well, I did. I was outdone as soon as the word left his mouth. The desire to slap him backwards
to begin my day all over again is an understatement.

I faked a smile and responded, “Well, good morning and how are you?”

“Just peachy,” he smiled, showing gleaming white teeth and beady black eyes which
glimmered like those of the mythical legend named Santa Claus. His head wobbled when he said
the word “peachy."

“Great!” I replied with enthusiasm and cracked a semi-smile.

“What’s your diuretic today?” the odd speaking freak-of-the-week asked. Apparently,
someone forgot to tell him “good morning” was sufficient for most people.

I thought, Diuretic? This dude is Carlton from The Fresh Prince of Bel Air, straight up.
But the words that actually came out of my mouth were, “Medium Chai tea with soy milk, please.
Don’t add water and make it extra hot.”

“Got that comin’ right up for ya!” he said in a chipper tone. I repeated that inside my head,
too.

The animated blonde standing beside him bobbed her head like a Texas cheerleader, “Hi
there,” she said, giving me a too-wide grin. “That’ll be threeee-fifty please.” She took my five
dollar bill and gave me change. How many cups of java did they have this morning?

After my stomach grew nauseous enough to puke where I stood, I made a stupid sound.
Kind of like “a hmm hmm,” but it came out in a deep pitch and fast altogether, only making two
syllables.

Carlton’s brows knitted together as he glanced at me and I beamed a celebrity smile his way.
It got me thinking, What’s up with this cat and why is he talking like that?

He was an average height, burly-sized guy with dark brown eyes. A few ready-to-burst
pimples were sprinkled right above his fleshy crimson cheeks where his thick beard began.
His dusky- colored, hairy skin reminded me of the shade usually found on grizzly bears. In fact he
reminded me of a grizzly’s cub; curly hairs jutted from his nostrils and ears. Those nasty chest
hairs that are supposed to be so manly (but I think are totally disgusting) peeked out from his v-
neck Polo shirt.

I thoughtlessly laughed out loud.

This time his voice was without its jovial tone. “Humor, how I love for my funny bone to be
tickled. Care to share?” he asked as he raised his brows and pursed his lips together.

“Nah, it’s just something personal.” I shook my head, hoping we’d finish this transaction
much sooner than later.

“Sure about that?” His head still wobbled when he ended his sentence. I didn’t like him.

“Yeah, why?” I asked, becoming uneasy with his interrogation tactics.

The female cashier smiled and stretched out her hand that held my beverage. “Here’s your
Chai, ma’am. Have a great day, ma’am!” I was grateful for the disruption so I wouldn’t have to
engage in any more dialogue with Mr. Grizzly.

“Thanks, and you too.” I grabbed my cup and leisurely strolled down the street on my way
to work. The hairy guy had me confounded. I was so focused on mapping out his life that I didn’t
see the red and white T-shirt my face slammed into. The lid on my Chai popped off and the murky,
brown spicy liquid spilled all over my brand new silk blouse and splashed on my hands.

“Aaaahhh,” I screamed bloody murder and dropped the cup. I had ordered my Chai extra
hot. The brown and orange paper cup rolled along the concrete, spilling out its contents.

“Shiiiit!” I roared.

“Mutha--!” the masculine voice rang out. He immediately jumped back.

“Didn’t you see me?” I yelled irately, pulling my silk blouse away from my body. When I
looked up and saw him remove his shirt that’s when I damn near fainted. All I saw before me
were perfectly cut pectorals and oblique muscles with Chai drops running down them. He used
his shirt to wipe his chest dry. I, of course, could not perform the same feat with my blouse as
my well-built offender without collecting a slew of peep-show freaks. His angry gaze almost
made me crack up—like he was expecting me to get down on my knees and beg his forgiveness.
He took off his hard hat and my gasp got caught in my throat. The slant of his eyes was
remarkable. His long sweeping lashes left me mystified. The linear slope of his nose gave way to
slightly broad nostrils and his flawless goatee bordered around dense, smooth-looking lips. The
words kiss and taste came to mind. As cliché as tall, dark, and handsome sounds it definitively
summed him up.

“Watch where the hell you’re going dammit! This is a construction site. And you’re walking
on the wrong side of the street anyway!” he shouted and pointed at a sign. I did not respond. For
some unknown reason, my words seemed lodged in between my throat and the tip of my tongue.

“Are you deaf?” He signed to me with his hands and pointed at the sign again. That’s when I
stopped gawking and remembered I was supposed to be mad. I casually glanced over at the
caution sign. Its background was white with large black blocked letters. Orange arrows pointed
opposite of where I stood.

I glanced at his chest again, eventually finding the appropriate words to speak to this
handsome jerk. “Just who in the hell do you think you’re talking to? I’m not a kid and I’m not
deaf!” I replied to his tantalizing chest area. Still tugging at my blouse with one hand, I situated
my free hand on my hip. “Maybe if you hadn’t been in my way, I would have seen the damn
sign!” I shouted, taking in all six feet plus of him.

“Look lady, just go ahead about your business. Okay?” He shook his head, and smirked
disdainfully like I was such a sad case. That pissed me off and my black-woman with a bad
attitude switch was turned on. I reserved this approach specifically for my occasional run-in with
an ignorant person.

“Noooo, you’re gonna buy me another Chai tea. How about that?” I said as I twisted my
neck and poked his bare chest with my index finger.

He looked at me as if I’d just told the most amusing joke. “If you don’t get out the way,
what I’ll end up buying you is a helmet to cover your pumpkin head. Don’t you see all those
bricks and stuff falling?” He pointed to a spot behind me where a bulldozer was knocking down
a wall. But with me being the stubborn person I am, I was ready to let him have it, so I
disregarded this stranger’s apocalyptic warning. You know how Noah tried to warn the people
about the flood, but they just wouldn’t listen? Well that’s kinda what happened right then and
there. I got showered with dust particles, small splinters of drywall and crumbling brick. I
coughed profusely, wiping myself off while closing my eyes. He was gracious enough to put his
yellow hard hat on my head and lead me to safer territory. I knew I looked like a ridiculous wet
fool. While dusting myself off, people walking by gave us curious stares, but I gawked right
back.

“All I wanna know is if I can be reimbursed for my Chai?” My lips were pressed together in
an embarrassing smirk as I gazed into the most luminous pair of eyes that told a tale of struggle,
in life and in love. His lashes were so long, that I couldn’t help but notice the dark-brown hue of
his eyes. I kept coughing and fanning at the man-made dust storm.

“If it would get you out the way, I’d buy you three of them,” he said in a serious manner. He
gently pushed me further out of harms way. “See that coffee shop back there?” He pointed to the
one I’d just left.

“Yeah,” I said.

“My cousin owns it. He should be in there. Tell him I said to give you a certificate for three
Chai’s.”

I took off the hard hat and placed it in his hands before crossing my arms. “Now, I’m
supposed to believe your cousin works there just because you tell me so?”

“Well, yeah, and because he does!” He smiled. His teeth were even and astonishingly white.
A miniature gap separated his two front teeth. I thought it was cute. He placed the hard hat back
on my head. “For your safety,” he said.

“What’s your cousin look like then?” I questioned. I hadn’t seen anyone in there that
remotely looked like they could be this man’s relative.

“He . . .” the jerk-turned-gentleman snickered, “kinda looks like . . . a grizzly bear.”

Say it isn’t so. “Talks really corny-like?” I asked, squinting my eyes. “Says corny ass stuff
like “howdy and peachy?”

“Yeah, he does!” He nodded his head up and down, tapped my shoulder and then laughed.
Once he realized he was cracking on his own flesh and blood, his tone became somber. “Hey, I
can’t let you talk about family like that!” he said. “He’s a really nice guy once you get to know
him.”

“Well, he is what he is. Goofy and kinda irritating.” I frowned and rolled my eyes. The
removal of his hat from my head left my freshly permed hair mussed and looking like a bird’s
nest. He pretended to rake his fingers through his hair to indicate I needed to do likewise. I
repeated the motion then smiled at him. God, you’re a cutie pie. He held the hard hat in one hand
and slapped it once with the other. I assumed this gesture simply meant, what’s next?

“My name’s Charles by the way.” He extended his hand after his sneaky eyes briefly swept
over my body.” I smirked right then.

“I wish I could say nice to meet you, but under these circumstances and the third degree
burns we both probably have, I’ll just tell you that my name is Inga.” I took hold of his large
hand and squeezed it. Only certain spots felt soft against my hand. The few calluses I felt
suggested a good work ethic. That was worth at least twenty points on my “attractive” score
card.

“Well, I’ve gotta get back to work now, after I change my shirt.” He looked down at his
reddening chest. “Do you have another blouse you can put on?” he asked.

I was thinking, Why? Are you gonna give me one of your shirts or something? “Yeah,
I have a T-shirt at work. Thanks, though.”

“Okay, then. You can go see my cousin any time. His name is Dwight.”

“Dwight, what?”

“Morgan-McAlister.”

“Is that your last name, too?” I asked as Charles started walking back toward the
construction site

“Why?” he replied. His suggestive smile told me he was open for more conversation, but I
liked my potential interest to be the aggressor.

I returned the smile, using my eyes to flirt with him. I wasn’t going to ask him out or
anything. Being forward wasn’t my style.

“Never mind,” I responded with a wave of my hand. I crossed the street to walk on the
correct side. I knew he was looking at my booty, but I didn’t care. It was nicely shaped and men
stared at it all the time anyway. I added more switch to my step and then glanced behind me to
catch him in the act. Charles laughed, quickly turned around and kept walking in the opposite
direction.