Dapper Carter's 8 Rules of Dating (21 page)

I prepared Rain's plate and placed it in front of
her. Serving someone else was actually something new for me since I was used to
sitting back and letting someone serve me. But serving Rain felt good. After a
few bites, I put my fork down and looked the butterscotch beauty straight in
her eyes, intent to tell the truth for once.

"Look, I'm going to be real up front with you. I've
been divorced for a couple of years and this dating game hasn't been nice to
me. There are certain things I expect and if the person I'm with can't
accommodate them, then I don't need to be with her."

"I agree. We all deserve to be treated exactly
the way we want to be."

I thought about what she said. This woman had wisdom
way beyond her years and I couldn't have said it better myself.

“Go get two pieces of paper,” she ordered. She wanted
to try something different.

I complied, knowing that her assertiveness/bossiness
was a quality that I respond to.

“List seven things that you want out of your
relationship and I will do the same.”

"Why seven?"

"Why not seven?"

She was right.
Did I have another Caesar on my
hands?
I was beginning to wonder.

"If five of those seven match up on each of our
sheets, we'll have a second date. If not, "C’est la Vie!""

I shook my head in agreement. She was lucky she was so
cute. “Okay. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.”

“The bigger the risk, the bigger the reward.”

“If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.”

“You can’t win ‘em all…”

“Six in one hand, a half-dozen in the other…”

“Paper or plastic?”

“Credit or debit?”

She had to have the last word and I found her wit
and charm infectious. I wrote feverishly, finishing my list in half the time it
took her to finish hers.          

"Tell me your top seven picks."

I took a deep breath then swallowed hard.
Here
goes nothing,
I thought. Honesty. But not brutal honesty. Loyalty. Passion.
Compassion. Camaraderie. Sex at least once a week. Three would be better,
though. And I'd like two children and a bulldog named Shaft.

Rain seemed to have that maternal instinct that I
was looking for and she could possibly be the one to bestow the greatest gift
any man could ask for upon me…a son. I would do things differently than my dad.
Not that his way was wrong, but I’d just do it differently.

I looked up from my paper. Her features had changed.
They had become softer. She slid the paper across the table saying nothing. I
read her picks aloud.

Number one, Honesty. Number two, Loyalty. Number
three, Friendship. Number four, Sensitivity. Number five, Communication. Number
six, Great sex. Number seven, two kids.

I put the paper down and thought to myself how
spooky that was. Almost borderline creepy with the birthdays first and now
this.

“We only match up on four. It was nice meeting you, Dapper
Carter.” She stood up and began to retrieve her things, determined to make good
on her promise.

"But wait a second. We both have honesty,
loyalty, sex, and two children. We're close."

"Close only counts in horseshoes and hand
grenades."

She was right. I had to re-examine. I scanned the
list maniacally trying to find some loophole in it that would allow a second
date for me. After several scrupulous seconds I found it.

"Here it is. Friendship and camaraderie are
synonyms."

"You sure?"

"I'm a walking dictionary. Trust me, it means
the same thing. So we're straight, right? We can kick it again?"

"Sure. We can hang out again. You get a second
date."

Now that's what I was talking about. I had to use
the restroom, so I excused myself. While I was in the john, Rain collected the
dirty dishes and placed them in the kitchen sink. I cooked and she cleaned. We
were already falling in sync.

While in the kitchen, she noticed my notebook
sitting on the counter. Nosily, she picked it up, opened it, and began to read.
A few moments later I returned to the kitchen to find her standing there with
my deepest thoughts in her hands.

"This is really good."

"That wasn't for anyone to read."

"Why not?" she asked.

"It's kind of like therapy for me."

"Well, I like it. You want your second date
right now?"

"Sure. What you got in mind?" 

Choose Love

Rain wanted to take me to an outdoor poetry reading
at a small park off of Atlantic Avenue in Ft. Greene. I was a budding poet in
her eyes, although I'd hardly call what I do "writing poetry." But I
figured that I would go. At least I was spending time with Rain, which is what
I really wanted anyway.

The reading was at a small park off of Atlantic Avenue and Fulton Street. We caught the C train to Lafayette Ave. and walked over
two blocks.  It was outside and under the moonlight with a mixture of all
kinds of Brooklyn people. It was a Rainbow Coalition of black, white, brown,
and yellow people.

I called Caesar and Khalil to tell them to meet us
at the poetry reading. They beat us there since we had train signal problems at
the Nostrand Ave. stop.  The subway was still the most reliable means of
transportation in the City. It’s not the driving in New York that will drive
you crazy, but rather the parking, or should I say the lack thereof? It forces
you to pay for parking because the $18 it costs you to park for an hour doesn’t
compare to the $100 ticket you will probably get.

I spotted Caesar across the park with his "sofa."
They looked nice together and he was right, she was about a size 12, but she
was eye-catching.  She wore her hair in a flip, choosing to go away from
that fat girl asymmetrical cut that makes them look old instead.  She
could easily slim down to a love seat (size 8) if she wanted to.  But I
had a feeling she was comfortable in her own skin and she was making my boy
Caesar more comfortable in his. 

He was decked out in one of his many Ozwald Boateng
combinations, forest green jacket with rust slacks topped off this burnt orange
silk ascot and hounds tooth fedora. 

Caesar introduced Rain and I to Cheryl (Shurrrl).  He
told me in confidence that she might be Mrs. Jenkins.  She’s not the type
of girl I’m accustomed to him being with, but they say God don’t give us what
we want necessarily; he gives us what we need.  He’s seemed relaxed. 
He showed us a smile that we normally don’t get to see because of his usual
“the best bitch is an unstable bitch” persona.

Khalil also showed up with a “friend” of his. It
wasn't what we were expecting, but we love Khalil anyway. He introduced us to Blue. 
He was six-five with a baritone voice and looked like he should be playing
defensive line for the Big Blue New York Giants. He didn't look gay at all, not
that there's a specific look. I badly wanted to ask him how come every gay guy
who comes out of the closet his voice goes up two octaves all of a sudden, unlike
his. But I chilled. It would be inappropriate as well as embarrassing.

We quickly grabbed some seats on the grass. It was a
summer night and you could see the stars flicker in the cloudless sky. We were
just getting over a deluge of rain spanning a little over two weeks, so
Brooklynites were itching to get out and stretch our legs without them getting soaking
wet. A waitress came along and took our order, so we were finally set to hear
some spoken word. Little did I know Rain had something in store for me.

The show started and after two or three urban poets,
the emcee called Rain to the microphone. She attended regularly so everyone
already knew her.

She rose and mischievously smiled at me.

“I’ll be back.” 

Every time she looked at me I felt more and more
peaceful inside. I couldn’t believe things were happening this fast, but it
really wasn’t because I had been longing for this woman for almost a year. 
When she reached the stage she cordially hugged the emcee.

"Hi, everybody. What I'm going to do tonight is
not very conventional and frankly I hope my friend doesn't mind." She
pulled my notebook out from behind her back and asked me if I wouldn't mind her
reading it aloud? I signaled that it was fine, then buried my head in my hands
and waited for the worst to come.

"This beautiful man has some interesting
thoughts and I think he should share them with the world. And since he won't, I
will.

It's titled, ‘Letter to Mrs. Carter.’

Beloved...Mrs. Carter... Let me tell you what I
think about love. Love is not something to be afraid of. Love has gotten a bad
rap. Love is not a disease that you catch. I love LOVE. It’s what we're put on
this earth for. Not to be alone. Not to struggle. Not to be loveless. I believe
love is a conscious choice and we can choose love. Love is an action
asking  to be  proactive. I can do all of the things that you're
supposed to do when you love someone. Be consistent. Be affectionate. Be
understanding. The operative word is BE. Be attentive, be concerned, be
interested, be a friend. If I do all these things, then I will be loving you
.”

I couldn’t believe the words I was hearing coming from
her perfect lips were mine.  She continued as I sat enthralled on the edge
of my seat.

“I want to wake up with you more than I want to
sleep with you. I want to wash your hair. I want to give you a warm towel when
you step out of the shower. I want to rub your feet. Yuck! And I hate feet
.”  That was
the truth.  You could keep your socks on in bed with me and my feelings
wouldn’t be hurt.
 

“But you'll be the first. Because I love you. I want
to make love to you so bad that I can no longer articulate my feelings
verbally. I'll have to express them. For once I'll be speechless. I want to
make you cum! Over...and over...and over…and over again.  For the first
time in my life, I don't need another person. I want another person. And that
person is you.”

I stood up and wandered toward the stage, lured like
a moth to a flame
.

"We'll be alike, yet different. Where I'm weak,
you'll be strong,"
she continued. Then something magical happened and I
began to recite my work verbatim from the text I had written, finishing her
sentence.

"You antagonize me constantly, but it’s
cute."
I was now standing face to face with Rain, looking into
her frosted blue eyes. An awe-stricken hush fell over the audience. My Rain
stood teary-eyed falling in love with my words, with me. I spoke right to her
soul and she dangled on every word with anticipation.

"I'll say yes to whatever you want to do, nine
times out of ten. You'll understand that I'm the visible head of our family, but
you run the family. If you're not happy, nobody's happy. I just want to love
you. Choose love
."

Caesar and Khalil ran up onto the stage like a
couple of kids proud of their friend. The crowd was in a stunned silence, as if
the oxygen had been sucked out of the room.

"Now that's my boy. You almost brought the
bitch up out of me," Caesar said.

Cautiously, I stepped back over to Rain. We ached
for one another and it was unmistakably apparent. Then she took a step forward
and kissed me. She tasted fresh like a ripe peach.

My belief is that there is only one first kiss and
you can never duplicate it. The excitement, the nervousness, the awkwardness of
when to dive in could never be replicated. I noticed that I would always be in
the middle of some stupid sentence to mask my nervousness, then out of nowhere
I would interrupt the sentence and dive in for the kiss.

This kiss lived up to its potential.  She used
just enough tongue, as she sweetly probed  my mouth and sparred with my
overzealous tongue.   She kissed like a dream and I was hoping there
was more where that came from…

Nice, Dapper Carter!

…And there was! A light rain beat against the radiator through the
open window as the curtains blew lightly from the breeze. I sat on the edge of
the bed while Rain stood in front of me. She took the lead, aggressively
removing the white V-neck tee she was wearing, revealing her perky mosquito
bite ta-ta’s. All that remained were the black boy shorts she was wearing that
clinged to her racetrack curves.

I stared at my love intently before hesitantly,
reaching out to touch her, not wanting to disturb the perfect vision before me.
I handled Rain gently like a porcelain figurine.  I rubbed my hands tenderly
over her shoulders, upper back, and smooth hips, I also made sure to pay
attention to her arms and backs of her legs not just the traditional arousal
regions of the female anatomy.  She shuddered with expectation.  The
anticipation was driving us both crazy.  Eventually I grew tiresome of the
foreplay, so I wedged my thumbs into the elastic band of her boy shorts and
removed them from her hips, sliding them over her scrumptious booty, around her
silky thighs and off her ankles in one sweeping move.