August 28, 2010

A story written by SKYE BLUE based on a narrative told by ELIZABETH ROSE

Gather round people. Today I’m going to tell you a story about one of the most disturbing of emotions, jealousy, featuring a woman I’ll call Ms. DnJ (that’s short for Desperate ‘n’ Jealous).

When last I saw her, Ms. DnJ she was so anxious to find a mate that her good friends could become mortal enemies in an instant – especially when they were standing between her and a man she desired.

Now Ms. DnJ is a pretty woman. She’s petite with smooth chocolate brown skin and a short bob that frames the high cheekbones of her slender face, with its delicate features. Unfortunately, Ms. DnJ simply doesn’t have the charm or poise to match her good looks, as the story I’m about to tell you will make abundantly clear…

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A few years ago I had a big b-day bash at a friend’s place, and my dear friend Elizabeth Rose offered to drive my girl Anna, who was seeing the one and only Sam Sharpe at the time, and her good friend Ms. DnJ to my party. ER picked Anna up first and as soon as she got into the car, she launched into a story about the pickle she was in now that she was hanging with our boy.

“You see, Ms. DnJ mentioned that she was diggin’ on Sam the night we met him and I even encouraged her to talk to him. But it was pretty obvious that he wasn’t interested,’ Anna explained, ‘And then out of nowhere he called me a week later to ask me out. He and I have been hanging for almost a month now I’ve been afraid to tell her. She gets so weird about shit like this – anything that has to do with men really.’

‘But nothing happened between them right? Sam never took her phone number and she never told him how she felt, right?’

‘No, they only met the time and nothing happened.’

‘You’ve got no worries then. She couldn’t possibly be angry because you’re dating a man who she met once, who clearly had no interest in her. Besides he approached you. It’s not like you went after him behind her back.’

Anna smiled weakly. ‘Elizabeth, I hope your right, because I’m going to have to tell her before we get to the party and she sees me and Sam together tonight.’

Minutes later they were pulling up in front of the subway entrance, where Ms. DnJ was waiting. She quickly dashed to the car and climbed into the back seat.

‘Hi Anna. Hey Elizabeth. Thanks, so much for coming to get me.’

‘No problem,’ Elizabeth Rose said, wheeling the car back into the flow of traffic to head to the highway.

At first, as they drove along the trio spoke about the cold weather, work and other banalities. Then the conversation shifted to all the fun they were going to have at my party.

‘I still can’t believe Skye is having a DJ at her party. I’m so excited,’ Ms. DnJ said. ‘I can’t even remember the last time I went dancing. Anna, I can’t wait to tear up the dance floor with you.’

‘Me too,’ Anna started, turning to look at Ms. DnJ, ‘But…uhm…I need to tell you something. Someone else is meeting me at the party tonight…Someone I started seeing recently.’

‘OMG. Dish! Who is this mystery dude? Do I know him?’ Ms. DnJ squealed, leaning in towards Anna to hear the news. ‘I’m so excited for you.’

Anna smiled and glanced quickly at Elizabeth. ‘Thanks, and yes you’ve met him. It’s Skye’s friend Sam, the guy she introduced us to at dinner a few weeks ago.’

‘Oh…Really?’ Ms. DnJ said slowly easing her body back in her seat, moving away from Anna. ‘Well that’s great. He is cool. So, how long have you guys been hanging?’

Detecting the slight edge in Ms. DnJ’s tone, Elizabeth looked in the rear-view mirror to see her face. Ms. DnJ had turned away from Anna to look out the window. Elizabeth tightened her grip on the steering wheel. Oh God, Anna was right. This isn’t going to be pretty.

Anna who was still peering into the backseat in an effort to make eye contact with her friend said, ‘Well, he called me about a week after we met and we’ve been hanging out since then. I hope you’re okay with all this. I know you were inter—’

‘Oh God, that’s old news. I’m so good,’ Ms. DnJ said, waving her hand dismissively at Anna, without turning to look at her. ‘Like I said, I’m happy for you.’

‘Thanks,’ Anna said again, as she turned around and leaned back in her seat. ‘You’re the best, Ms. DnJ.’

‘Uh huh,’ Ms. DnJ mumbled.

To ease the rising tension Elizabeth Rose turned on the radio. Soon after Anna started bopping and singing along to the music. Moments later she and Elizabeth fell back into conversation about the party. It was only then that Elizabeth Rose loosened her grip on the steering wheel. Perhaps the crisis has been averted?

Unfortunately, my dear Elizabeth was wrong. Just as she was about to exit the highway, Ms. DnJ broke her silence, with this…

‘You know Anna, I remember reading somewhere that Black women have longer vaginal columns to accommodate Black men. Apparently, mother nature created us to be the perfect partners for OUR men.’

A quick aside: If you didn’t gasp in horror or scream something akin to ‘WTF?’ at your computer screen after reading that, I suggest you read that again and again until you do. And I’m praying to God (I’m on my knees, begging him in fact) to make sure that none of you even think about trying to back up her patently ridiculous statement in the comments.

Elizabeth Rose was so shocked by Ms. DnJ’s declaration that she nearly drove the car off the road. Panic-stricken, she looked over at Anna, and saw a confused and pain-filled expression sweep across her pretty face. Oh God. Why isn’t Skye here? What to do? What to do? As Elizabeth wracked her brain for something to say that would lighten the mood, she glanced into the rear-view mirror and noticed Ms. DnJ opening her mouth to speak again. Fearing that she would say something even more dreadful than her previous proclamation, to avert further disaster Elizabeth did the only thing she could…

She shouted, ‘OMG. I love this song!’ and then turned up the volume full blast.

The sound of blaring house music filled the uncomfortable space between them until they pulled into the driveway of my friend’s home. Within seconds of arriving at my party, a harried looking Elizabeth Rose dragged me into a corner to tell me the whole sordid story.

After calming her down and thanking her for preventing a major crisis (and perhaps a fatal car accident) on the night of my birth no less, my only response to her tale was this…

‘When that green-eyed monster jealousy rears her ugly head, it’s always a real bitch, eh?’

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