Smell You Later
My cell phone rang.
If I was a rich girl, na na na na na na na na na na na na na na na!
"Hello," I answered. The caller ID was a number I had never seen before.
"Yo, dis be Paul. If you has a problem wit me then get yo ass outside right now and say it to my face, bitch!"
I was astounded by the lack of grammatical skill and intelligence in his voice. I knew I smelled something rank, like old cheese found in a public urinal. The phone's speaker seemed to be losing its sharpness and became distorted from the putrid stench crawling off the caller.
I hung up and went outside, equipped with a baseball bat. Just follow your nose, I thought. The smell was creating tears in my eyes. There he was amidst the fog of pollution. A fat, black man known as Paul watched me approach, along with two 13-year-old boys. Paul's posse.
Without either of us saying a word, I swung the bat as hard as I could and couldn't have paid any money in the world for a better shot. It was a grand slam, right in the Jonson. That was the hardest thing Paul has ever had between his legs.
"Ugh..." Paul choked but could barely make a sound as he kneeled to the ground and then fell forward. His arms were tucked underneath his weight, hands holding his crotch.
"Yeah, alright!" I exclaimed. Why couldn't I have swung like that when I played baseball in grade school? Paul's two little boyfriends ran off like frightened kittens. "Well, I guess I'll go make a sandwich now," I said to the moaning Paul.
While eating my tuna fish sandwich, I couldn't help but notice that Paul's stench lingered through the premises. What a terrible fume. It was actually giving me a headache. I think I better sleep it off, I thought to myself. I could use a good night's rest.
In the morning my headache was worse. Much worse. God, that smell is still here? It smells like pig's diarrhea mixed with vinegar in a rainstorm of burning bits of pubic hairs.
I went outside and Paul was still flat on the ground, ass side up, face in the dirt and arms underneath. They must have lost feeling by now since they have been under a massive amount of weight for a long time.
"Can you take a shower or something?" I asked the motionless Paul. There was no response.
"Freeze!" a cop jumped out a tree and landed twenty feet below on the ground, almost as tactful as a ninja master.
"Whoa!" I cried and threw my hands in the air. "I didn't hit him in the balls!"
"Stay right where you are!" the cop said. "Stay away from that black man!"
"What?" I asked. I took a step toward Paul to see why I had to stay away from him.
"I'm warning you! He's black! Stay away from him, he's extremely ghetto. He'll try to bum a cigarette off you, even if you don't smoke."
I wasn't sure if the cop was racist or if he was just very experienced. I stared at Paul for a minute and finally said, "Uh, I think he's dead..."
"I'm going to need to see some ID, sir," The cop said.
"Ok, I'll have to go into my apartment and get it." I went inside and when I came back out, Paul was still in the same position except his arms were behind his back. He was handcuffed.
Just then, a man on a motorbike came around the corner, "Yo guys!" It was Kai. "Oh wow, Jon, I didn't know you were into kinky things. I've never seen you at any BDSM events...you should go to my CLICK meetings."
I just paused there, either out of shock or out of annoyance that Kai was here. He's like skin irritation - he shows up in the worst places at the worst time.
"But, Jon," he continued, "You didn't even tie him up!" Kai got off his bike and pulled a rope from the saddlebag. The cop seemed to be allowing all of this to happen without saying a word. I guess letting Kai tie him up would cause less of a chance of an escape happening from this so-called dangerous man. And he tied him up, alright. He tied him up the same he ties his little females up. I'm not sure if it was necessary to remove Paul's clothing, but he did.
"Now that's kink!" He shouted and slapped Paul on the ass. Paul was fully conscious at that point and he moaned.
"Well," I said, "I better get going."
The cop said, "I better take him downtown. Thanks for your help, Kai - you are always so helpful."
"Thanks I know I am," Kai replied. "Wow, I didn't know you'd be downtown tonight too! I'll follow you to the bondage party. Are you coming with, Jon?"
I tried to think of the nicest way to say fuck no, "Um...no."
"Ok, well I'll see you there if you change your mind." The cop drove off with Paul and Kai followed in his motorbike. I'm pretty sure the cop didn't know that Kai is mistakenly placing him in a kink fantasy.
When Paul was released hours later, he never bothered me and hasn't to this day.
If I was a rich girl, na na na na na na na na na na na na na na na!
"Hello," I answered. The caller ID was a number I had never seen before.
"Yo, dis be Paul. If you has a problem wit me then get yo ass outside right now and say it to my face, bitch!"
I was astounded by the lack of grammatical skill and intelligence in his voice. I knew I smelled something rank, like old cheese found in a public urinal. The phone's speaker seemed to be losing its sharpness and became distorted from the putrid stench crawling off the caller.
I hung up and went outside, equipped with a baseball bat. Just follow your nose, I thought. The smell was creating tears in my eyes. There he was amidst the fog of pollution. A fat, black man known as Paul watched me approach, along with two 13-year-old boys. Paul's posse.
Without either of us saying a word, I swung the bat as hard as I could and couldn't have paid any money in the world for a better shot. It was a grand slam, right in the Jonson. That was the hardest thing Paul has ever had between his legs.
"Ugh..." Paul choked but could barely make a sound as he kneeled to the ground and then fell forward. His arms were tucked underneath his weight, hands holding his crotch.
"Yeah, alright!" I exclaimed. Why couldn't I have swung like that when I played baseball in grade school? Paul's two little boyfriends ran off like frightened kittens. "Well, I guess I'll go make a sandwich now," I said to the moaning Paul.
While eating my tuna fish sandwich, I couldn't help but notice that Paul's stench lingered through the premises. What a terrible fume. It was actually giving me a headache. I think I better sleep it off, I thought to myself. I could use a good night's rest.
In the morning my headache was worse. Much worse. God, that smell is still here? It smells like pig's diarrhea mixed with vinegar in a rainstorm of burning bits of pubic hairs.
I went outside and Paul was still flat on the ground, ass side up, face in the dirt and arms underneath. They must have lost feeling by now since they have been under a massive amount of weight for a long time.
"Can you take a shower or something?" I asked the motionless Paul. There was no response.
"Freeze!" a cop jumped out a tree and landed twenty feet below on the ground, almost as tactful as a ninja master.
"Whoa!" I cried and threw my hands in the air. "I didn't hit him in the balls!"
"Stay right where you are!" the cop said. "Stay away from that black man!"
"What?" I asked. I took a step toward Paul to see why I had to stay away from him.
"I'm warning you! He's black! Stay away from him, he's extremely ghetto. He'll try to bum a cigarette off you, even if you don't smoke."
I wasn't sure if the cop was racist or if he was just very experienced. I stared at Paul for a minute and finally said, "Uh, I think he's dead..."
"I'm going to need to see some ID, sir," The cop said.
"Ok, I'll have to go into my apartment and get it." I went inside and when I came back out, Paul was still in the same position except his arms were behind his back. He was handcuffed.
Just then, a man on a motorbike came around the corner, "Yo guys!" It was Kai. "Oh wow, Jon, I didn't know you were into kinky things. I've never seen you at any BDSM events...you should go to my CLICK meetings."
I just paused there, either out of shock or out of annoyance that Kai was here. He's like skin irritation - he shows up in the worst places at the worst time.
"But, Jon," he continued, "You didn't even tie him up!" Kai got off his bike and pulled a rope from the saddlebag. The cop seemed to be allowing all of this to happen without saying a word. I guess letting Kai tie him up would cause less of a chance of an escape happening from this so-called dangerous man. And he tied him up, alright. He tied him up the same he ties his little females up. I'm not sure if it was necessary to remove Paul's clothing, but he did.
"Now that's kink!" He shouted and slapped Paul on the ass. Paul was fully conscious at that point and he moaned.
"Well," I said, "I better get going."
The cop said, "I better take him downtown. Thanks for your help, Kai - you are always so helpful."
"Thanks I know I am," Kai replied. "Wow, I didn't know you'd be downtown tonight too! I'll follow you to the bondage party. Are you coming with, Jon?"
I tried to think of the nicest way to say fuck no, "Um...no."
"Ok, well I'll see you there if you change your mind." The cop drove off with Paul and Kai followed in his motorbike. I'm pretty sure the cop didn't know that Kai is mistakenly placing him in a kink fantasy.
When Paul was released hours later, he never bothered me and hasn't to this day.