Food for thighs.

Tennis Court Confessions

“You can start walking now, I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

Blood flows with anticipation; my mind wanders into sexual abyss.

He stumbles over his words, he’s just as nervous as I am.

I can see his throbbing member peeking out the zipper of his Levi’s. 

A couple more exchanges of words and we transfer to the darkest area of the courts.

After a number of “Are my hands cold?”, “Let me take this off, it’s getting in the way”s later, we know exactly what positions we are supposed to play.

Bare ass laid onto the concrete of tennis shoe debris and athletic perspiration. 

Occasionally peering out onto the street and the entrance to view the cars passing by and any possible late night tennis players.

Paranoia diminishes into euphoria.

My two front teeth sinked into the flesh of my bottom lip; my hands gripping tightly onto the small of his back. 

My. Eyes. Closed. His. Body. Up. and Down.

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A gentle breeze strikes the back of my neck causing the bumps on my arms to rise. I close my eyes and begin to imagine the wind as cold fingertips brushing my neck softly in intimate time intervals. The idea leads me towards reminiscence of you, and I. Wet, cold, fresh out of the shower and feet on the cold tiles of your bathroom floor. Padding ourselves down with our towels as quickly as we can so that we could make our way to your bed. We lay there, shivering in wait of warmth, bodies pressed against each other the way toes do in shoes that don’t fit, in hopes to form body heat. Your hand as cold as ice wrapped around my brittle neck. You push your body forward. Our lips meet. We are warm. I am warm.

A car alarm brings me back to consciousness and a gentle breeze strikes the back of my neck causing the bumps on my arms to rise.

I am cold. 

I don't wanna hear it!

I know I haven't posted anything in a while, so here's a new segment I'm going to try AND! I'll give you two!

Welcome to I don't wanna hear it! Here, I will be informing you of the idiotic things I hear throughout my day. Oh, what fun!

First idiotic thing I heard today happened while I was getting my haircut. While my barber and I were catching up on some gossip, here comes some douche bag who gets into the chair next to us. In between the buzz of the clippers and the snips of the scissors, I can hear him talking about how he's a barista at a coffee shop. I listen a little closer and he's getting real passionate about being a barista - how it calms him down. He says something along the lines of, "You know how painters feel each time they stroke their brush on the canvas and it just soothes them," he obnoxiously rambles, "That's how I feel every time I make a latte and hang out - It's just so cathartic!" 

OH, GOD, KILL ME NOW! I was 'bout ready to vomit onto my drape. I swear I almost saw my brain, that's how far back my eyes rolled. Please, Mr. Douche Bag, go back to your recycled aircraft furniture, exposed brick walls, and listen to Mumford and Sons. I don't wanna hear it!

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This second idiotic thing I heard actually didn't happen today, but a few days ago. I was at work hanging out with my new coworker and this girl LOVES to talk, but she only has so many things to talk about. She's that person at work that you don't really want to talk to because all they ever have to say is so uninteresting and dragged out, but you have to be cordial and not tell them to shut up 'cause you need to collect that paycheck. 

Anyways, a few days ago she ACTUALLY shut up and gave me the opportunity to talk. She asks me about my family background and when my parents met. I tell her I'm Filipino and that I'm second generation American, blah blah blah. Now, my mother has four children and two of them were born in Saudi Arabia, because before coming to America to be a nurse you might have gone to Saudi Arabia. As I was trying to explain this to her, the only words that were able to come out of my mouth were, "My mom needed to move to a different country to take care of her first child, so she - ". That's when this ignorant, IGNORANT, little girl cuts me off and screams, "CAME TO AMERICA TO FIND A WHITE MAN!" 

WHEN I TELL YOU I ALMOST LOST MY SHIT.... but that paycheck slapped me straight in the face and said, "J.R., don't you go off on this idiot, that rent due soon!" And some of you may already know how I feel about that whole White-Asian interracial shit (possible future post) and how my inner Kanye might have came out. 

I stayed; cool, calm, collected, I kept my inner Kanye in, and went about my business. 

I DON'T WANNA HEAR IT!