Illustration and cover design by Totsymae Copyright 2011

Desperita couldn’t think straight, she was so drunk on what she thought was love. Just weeks after Bootleg Man laid down the law like the god of hot lovin’, she went to pondering the idea of shacking up with him.  His idea, of course. The shit had her head spinning, like somebody had thrown a dash of poison in her life. She had to take some days off from work on account of it too. Odd thing was, she couldn’t point this imbalance she was having back to Bootleg Man ’cause the big ‘L’ word was bouncing off their lips all the time. The very thing she’d been in her closet, on her knees praying for couldn’t be the cause. Oh, noooooo.

Every time she turned around, he was calling her or at her place, eating up food from her pantry and refrigerator he didn’t try to make contributions to filling back up. Matter of  fact, they seldom went out at his expense. His sloven ass brought in bootleg movies for them to watch. Was even slick enough about it to call her up on Friday nights to have her buy popcorn and soda, so it would feel like they were at a real movie theater while watching shit he’d bought off the street at two for five dollars. Oh, he was one trifling ass and Desperita was blinded by all that shit talking that came out his mouth most of the time ’til one particular night when he brought his tired ass over.

“Me and my boy got a business plan for a car detailing business. Providing a mobile service, you know,” he told her one night, after he finished washing his no count ass from putting what he thought was the best loving on her she’d ever had.

Desperita laid up there all frustrated ’cause she hadn’t had an orgasm since the first few times they’d had sex. Sometimes, she’d open her eyes and look at him grinding into her and it looked like he was making love to his damn self. He was about one selfish motherfucker in bed, getting his shit and out for the count before she got hers. In her numb mind, they were still getting used to one another. He’d learn how to lay it down the way she liked in good time. She just had to be more patient than she’d been in the past.

“A business on the side of your job, you mean?” She laid up against him, her legs all wrapped around him ’cause she wanted more sex to get some satisfaction but when she touched him below, he was softer than a damn pillow.

“That would be the initial plan but long term, I wouldn’t be letting a job hold me back from prospering, baby.”

On that very day, Bootleg Man had pissed his boss off again, dragging in late, taking extra minutes for lunch and swagging around the office holding his dick like he was on the damn street corner selling it. He was on a tightrope and about to fall off, the way he was carrying on.

“It takes awhile to build a business up, baby. At least five years. Have you always wanted to be a business owner?” Desperita felt like her head was about to explode. Just couldn’t put two and two together worth a damn to make it equal up to Bootleg Man being the cause. She’d been eating so little lately, on account of being in love and all, she summed it up to being that.

“Oh, you’re saying you don’t believe in me? That I can’t do it and be successful?” He raised up, mad as hell at this bitch and all the bitches who slapped doubt in his face. Like he wasn’t capable of striking out on his own.

“Of course, I  don’t-.” Desperita grabbed the sheet to cover herself after Bootleg Man got all dramatic on her and went for his pants.

“I can’t even hang around here after this shit. I ain’t with it, man. A woman who can’t be about supporting my dream,” He pulled his pants up and buckled his belt, wanting her to approve his lame ass car wash dream that stirred in his head all of three days ago.

“Baby, don’t leave.” She put one had up to her head, still holding the sheet with the other. “Look, I’m tired from working, my head’s hurting-.”

“So, you’re making this about you now?” He threw his shirt on and tucked the hell outta of it into his pants, wanting her to beg his ass to lay back down but she only sat there. No way he could soften up now. He could almost see a pink slip coming fast at the job and trying to hustle up enough business to pay the lease on his townhome. He shoved his wallet in his back pocket and took one last look at her before leaving slamming the door, for effect.

Desperita was sitting in bed crying, unable to figure out what the hell had gone wrong and battling with the pain in her head. She just didn’t have the strength to say anything to make Bootleg Man stay and wondered what was so flawed in her that she couldn’t keep a man in her life.

Copyright 2011 Totsymae

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