This is a loser story.
He sat at the table. The wrinkles engulfed his face. He was married to his pride. He had nothing to offer. Nothing but stories. Stories that no man should be proud of.
At about thirty – he saw a girl, a black girl, one resembling coal – exiting the bus. It was a hot summer night in St.Kitts. The black beauty walked the streets every night as her profession would entail. A beautiful sex worker. He saw her and like a panther noticing his prey – stalked her for a moment. Driving in the lap of luxury, his Cadillac; he made a u-turn and picked up the black beauty.
Her Caribbean accent enticing for anyone as she said, “hello.” She said hello to his… pecker – now perpendicular. The married man entered an empty parking lot with the black beauty. Not knowing each other they had a carnal embrace.
When he was through he sat in silence, his conscience affecting him. The black beauty saw a briefcase in the back, in her experience silence usually meant being close to death or arrest. This man was well put together, suit and tie, briefcase and his mystery.
“Are you a police?”
“Are you going to arrest me?”
“No. Leave the car.”
He let her out of the car with no payment.
“Okay officer. See you around,” the black beauty said.
When asked why he didn’t pay her, he said, “She was too black anyway, if she was light skinned I would have paid her. Black girls don’t deserve payment.” He never saw her again.