James’ Story- Part One

It’s one thing to not be able to find a job after looking all day. It’s a completely different experience to lose your six-figure job two weeks ago, and search for a job with no luck even with two degrees. That feeling gets amplified ten times over when you have rent due for your luxury penthouse apartment in two weeks- rent that you could afford with your six-figure job, but now your no-figure unemployed ass is thinking about how bad it would be for your image to have to move out. Given the fact that it took you two degrees and a LOT of ass-kissing to get that luxury penthouse. On top of that, you’re a 27 year old Black Man with no future planned. No woman wants a man who can’t keep a job. It’s even worse when you’re the man who lost his six-figure job.

So much for married with kids by 30.

But, here you are. Sitting at a bar, drinking because who cares if you use this month’s last money splurge on getting drunk to numb the fact that all of this happened in two weeks? Right. “I’ll take a Tito’s & Cranberry on the rocks. Make it double actually, fuck it.”As the bartender prepares my overrated cliche beverage, I decide to take out my phone to see what’s happening on twitter.Nevermind, there are way too many “Ms. 20-something”’s celebrating the fact that they dumped a fuck nigga for a new glow.

Cause now I’m the fuck nigga in the way of “Ms. 20-something”’s glow.

The bartender finally finished making the world’s simplest drink in 15 minutes, and it’s time for a silent toast to me. James, the 27 year old, fuck nigga-wait, unemployed fuck nigga- who is spending his last day of moping in an overrated bar, with an overrated drink in hand, and an underrated resume in his briefcase in the barstool next to him like an overrated date. Basically makes sense. “Go ahead and pour me another, I know by the time I finish this one you’ll only be starting the next one”, I say as someone taps me on the shoulder with a light touch. “Excuse me, but I’d really appreciate it if you moved your empty briefcase from beside you. There are no more seats at the bar, and I don’t think this seat is filled with a paying customer”, I hear from behind me from a woman’s voice with a deep timbre (kinda like Alicia Keys in that one coffee shop scene). I chuckle as I move my briefcase replying, “I’d be glad to move the suitcase for someone patronizing a business, but I’ll be glad to let you know that this briefcase actually has two brushes, and a silky durag inside. Fragile contents”, as the slender woman begins to sit next to me with laughter. “You’ve got jokes, I’ll give you that”, she says as I finally get a better look at her.

Now this is usually the part where you figure out that the person telling you the story is a pervert who likes to imagine that they know the breast size, waist size, exact height and shoe size of the woman they just saw for the first time. No thanks, I’d rather describe it in my own way. This woman had a nice black haired fro, filled with curls that were coiled tightly. Her slim physique was complemented by the dress she had chosen to wear- a ruby red dress that would’ve been able to take Dorothy back to Kansas with only three clicks. Her skin was a milk chocolate brown with Georgia clay undertones;it seemed to make the red in her dress never stop and her skin never begin because it flowed so well together. Her nails were a simple white French Tip, and they didn’t hold too much length to them. I feel like that should be ample deion enough for now- at least for you to know that she caught my attention with ease.

I had to think of a witty reply- cause you know, I got jokes and all- “You know, I’ve also got names. James is the first”.

“That’s good to know James, my name is Nina. At least the first.”

“Well it’s really a pleasure to meet you Nina.”

“Likewise.”

“Okay, so I’m pretty sure this is supposed to be your private time, but I really have to ask you something.”

“Already asking me questions, James? I haven’t even had my first drink yet. Where’s your sense of manners? Can I at least patronize the business before I choose to let you entertain me?”

“Fair enough, so I’ll ask while you order your first drink, and I’ll pay because I did forget my manners. Seems like a good compromise to me.”

“You know how to negotiate well James. It seems like you have yourself a deal. I’ll take a Sex on The Beach.”

Good Choice.

“Why this shitty bar? No offense, but this is really a I am really not caring about the quality of my liquor right now type bar, and you are dressed in a I’ll be damned if I drink some Belvedere while Puff got Cîroc outfit.”

A pause, a laugh, and a sip later.

“This is my work outfit, James. I work across the street, and if I’m getting off this late I’ll be damned if I’m not feeling what I’m sipping. But I will also be damned.” she says, with trailing laughter.

“Noted.”

“James.”

“Nina.”

“Question.”

“Answer.”

A sip (maybe gulp) break.

“Why this shitty bar? Your shirt is tailored enough to say you have a bottle of Ace of Spades in your kitchen.”

“Everybody needs a Henny night.”

More sips and laughter.

“Nigga. Shut up. Everybody needs a Henny night my ass.”

I laugh. “It’s true!”

“You’re drinking Vodka and Cranberry, nigga.”

We both laugh, and she orders her second round of drinks.

“Fine. I had a long day, and I will eventually get into the Henny, alright?”

“I’ll be damned, you gonna get that Henny right now. Two shots for playing too damn much, for that matter.”

I smack my teeth, but order the double shot of Henny.

“What do you do for work, Nina?”

“I’m the CFO at the office across the street.”

“Ambitious. Looking to move onto CEO soon?”

“Of course. There hasn’t been a Black Woman as a CEO of a Fortune 500 since Ursula Burns.”

“Well, please don’t forget about James from the shitty bar when you’re promoted.”

We laugh.

“Well, James from the shitty bar, where do you work?”

I order another double shot, and take out a deep sigh.

“That’s why my ass is here. I just got laid off my job a couple weeks ago, and I’ve been looking for a job ever since. Obviously, to no avail.”

And I know my ass cannot afford anymore Henny, I need to slow down.

“I appreciate the honesty, James. It’s admirable. But now that I know your ass is broke, I need to step out for some fresh air.”

She leans over to grab her bag.

Shit.

“Shit.”

She starts to laugh, and I grab a napkin because apparently, I broke a sweat.

“You know I’m kidding, you’re not a bad drinking partner. Even if you don’t got a job.”

“And you know, you’re not too bad yourself. Even if you aren’t CEO.”

“Shutup, nigga.”

“Yes ma’am.”

She gives me a slight smirk.

And of course, the smirk is interrupted by a tired ass bartender who says that the bar is closing very soon. As in he just finished our tabs, and he put up his liquor into the cabinet. As in, we gotta go. Now.

“Are you going to walk me out to my car, James?”

“That depends, Nina.”

“On?”

“Whether or not I get to walk you to your door.”

I laugh, and step away from my barstool with my bag.

“I’m joking. I’d be delighted to walk you to car, Nina.”

She hesitates.

“Nigga, I swear if you’re some kind of creep…”

“Nina. I am not some kind of creep. I am some kind of unemployed, but I don’t have the time nor energy to be a creep.”

I pull out my wallet.

“James Richard Monroe.”, I state as I show her my ID.

“two first names, James. You are some kind of creep, nigga!”

We bust out laughing while I put my wallet away. She steps away from her barstool, and links her arm into mine while we walk out of the shitty bar.



I didn’t expect her to have such a nice ass car. I mean, I did- she is a CFO and all- but not such a nice ass car! It was a brand new Model X Tesla (it’s the damn SUV, with the autopilot), all black exterior with the tan leather interior. She got that damn car customized, to the T.

“I see why you’re so damn ready to get in your car. That shit is gonna drive you home, isn’t it?”

“Sure damn is, James Richard.”

“James works just as well, Nina.”

“I know something that could work a little better”, she whispers as she steps into the driver seat.

I clear my throat. “What did you say, Nina?”

“I said goodnight, James. Don’t let that Henny get you fucked up.”

“Goodnight my ass”, I mutter under my laugh.

“Huh?” She says with a grimace expression.

“I said goodnight, Nina. Don’t let that Sex on the Beach get you fucked up.”

“Well played.”

She starts her engine.

“When am I going to see you again, Nina?”

“That all depends, James.”

“On?”

“Whether I actually want to see you again.”

Shit.

“Shit.”

She laughs again. “I’m kidding. I might just be back at this shitty bar next week, if you want to take your chances.”

“I might just do that.”

“Well, goodnight James Richard. Two first name ass nigga.”

She chuckles as I shrug her off.

“Goodnight Nina. I’ll see you soon, that’s a promise.”

I hope it’s a promise I can keep. For now, I’mma order this damn uber and get home.

Did I mention Nina smells good as hell? Like some damn pineapples…



“I know you don’t smoke weed, I know this; but I’m gonna get you high today, ’cause it’s Friday; you ain’t got no job… and you ain’t got shit to do.”

This is the perfect movie to wake up to. Especially when you bought an eighth the other day, and you got a nice ass bong to hit it out of.

I wake up every morning at 7:30. It’s only because I’m so used to having work at 9am, and I like to take my sweet time waking up. Now, without a job, I just have to worry about interviews that are going to take up my time. I already know I have one scheduled at 12:00pm at a restaurant with some lady named Ms. Miller, for a lunch interview of all things. I do know this for sure- I’ve already had shitty luck so far, so why not show up a little baked so I can enjoy whatever shitty food they’re going to be serving for lunch anyways?

One pull.

Two pulls.

Three pulls.

Four pulls.

Cough break.

Fifth, and final pull.

You know, of all the things you can have on your mind when you’re high, my mind always likes to think of women. Especially beautiful women, that’s my favorite high thought. I think of past lovers, women who I have met before and even women I would like to meet one day (like KeKe Palmer, you know she loves to twerk on the ‘gram). Today was one of those high thoughts, but of course I was stuck on one person: Nina.

I barely got any information out of her, I only know where she works and what she likes to drink from time to time.