Obscura
Well-known member
( I told you I'd do it, so here it is. 
)
29 / 5 / 2010
"Bullshit" Gina exclaims, "You lie." The snap of the menu a herald to her proclaimed finality as it slides upon the linoleum table to gather alongside the others.
"Nuh uh, I got proof." I say to her, my typical shit eating grin eclipsing every other gesture as Dave and Nak giggling like school girls in their respective corners of the table. "You shut yo mouf when grown folks is talkin'!" I point to Nak, the giggling continues as we were previously discussing the merits of Black Dynamite upon the black community, though eventually we agreed upon going to a Fried Chicken joint one of these days.
"Peep this shit, yo." The words slip out as the card flutters to the table, three bangable™ Japanese girls sit behind us, I'm not sure how old they are, but they're bangable™. Though later on Nak and myself talk about how they look like our cousins, apparently that's enough to stop him, more for me.
Gina snatches out to grab the card as Dave and myself flinch back, Nak's the only one who remains in place as the two of us have been on the receiving end of Gina's wraith, ". . ." Silence suddenly falls, a vacant stare upon her as silent words leave empty lips, eventually she speaks, "It's in girls writing."
"I told you!" I take the card from her wavering grasp, though we fall into silence once more as the waitress drops off fish cakes and then momentarily leaves before bringing back our Thai iced coffees.
"How the Hell?!" Gina seems to be in more shock than anyone else, even though it didn't happen to her, "Is she blind?"
Dave just smiles and gives me a thumbs up, Nak goes off with his usual, "Way to go Nigga™" remark. I still think he wishes he were black.
"Did she see the knife?" It's a tad difficult to not see the knife, a Gerber LMFII is usually strapped to my right thigh. I justify it as a utility knife and my coworkers who happen to be Police officers for the city of San Francisco just shrug or ask to borrow it when they buy a Coconut from Whole Foods since it has a "Glass Breaker".
"Yeah, I think that's what drew her in." I flip the card with her contact information between my fingers, a full name sits above two phone numbers and an email address. "It was either that or the leathers."
"I think it's because you can speak coherently and make tangible sentences while looking a woman in her eyes."
"I wasn't exactly looking at her eyes, G-Dizzle." This woman has some huge cans, I sure do love me a woman with an hour glass figure.
Dave and Nak do a fist bump, "Fuck yeah Nigga." They say in unison. Nak's pretty dark, so he could almost pass. Dave on the other hand, he's just a honky.
The usual questions erupt from them, does she have teeth? Did she see how much money you were withdrawing from the bank? Was she missing an eye? Did she smell nice? Did she have a peg leg or a hook for a hand? These and many more were thrown down, a testament to their worries.
"Nah, she was wearing some dark blue jeans, a black button down with rolled up sleeves, a white undershirt and some purse thing." Fuck if I knew what purse she wore. I might be FgtNick™ but I'm no Feanor. "Oh, she was pretty cute, everything seemed to be there and she has nice skin?" I only knew that cause I was staring at her eyes, since I'm a guy that meant my peripheral vision was concentrating upon her rack.
"Nice skin?"
"Yeah, nice skin. She's also a red head." I paused to think, drawing up the woman who assailed me with a question that caught me unaware, "I watched her walk away, she doesn't have a limp either." For all intents and purposes, when I go to the bank to withdraw cash for bridge toll, I never expected someone to talk to me.
Though this is more due to how I suit up for my commute on the SV, a pair of weather stained Sidi Combat Tourers, fraying Alpinestar Bat Leather pants, a custom Johnson's Leathers jacket decked out with TPro forcefield armor and to top it all off, one of my old BDU tops from the Army since I need the extra pockets to carry stuff, oh and the knife. It tends to keep people away and I like that since I'm not exactly the social type when I've only been awake for an hour and lacking coffee.
Unfortunately, a woman saw past the groggy sleep deprived veneer and lopsided stomping of a humanoid trying to be people, along with the grunt and hiss that passed for civilized conversation as she slipped me her digits.
I have her number and I'm calling her at six.
Call Bullshit all you want, but I have three witnesses. :laughing
)29 / 5 / 2010
"Bullshit" Gina exclaims, "You lie." The snap of the menu a herald to her proclaimed finality as it slides upon the linoleum table to gather alongside the others.
"Nuh uh, I got proof." I say to her, my typical shit eating grin eclipsing every other gesture as Dave and Nak giggling like school girls in their respective corners of the table. "You shut yo mouf when grown folks is talkin'!" I point to Nak, the giggling continues as we were previously discussing the merits of Black Dynamite upon the black community, though eventually we agreed upon going to a Fried Chicken joint one of these days.
"Peep this shit, yo." The words slip out as the card flutters to the table, three bangable™ Japanese girls sit behind us, I'm not sure how old they are, but they're bangable™. Though later on Nak and myself talk about how they look like our cousins, apparently that's enough to stop him, more for me.
Gina snatches out to grab the card as Dave and myself flinch back, Nak's the only one who remains in place as the two of us have been on the receiving end of Gina's wraith, ". . ." Silence suddenly falls, a vacant stare upon her as silent words leave empty lips, eventually she speaks, "It's in girls writing."
"I told you!" I take the card from her wavering grasp, though we fall into silence once more as the waitress drops off fish cakes and then momentarily leaves before bringing back our Thai iced coffees.
"How the Hell?!" Gina seems to be in more shock than anyone else, even though it didn't happen to her, "Is she blind?"
Dave just smiles and gives me a thumbs up, Nak goes off with his usual, "Way to go Nigga™" remark. I still think he wishes he were black.
"Did she see the knife?" It's a tad difficult to not see the knife, a Gerber LMFII is usually strapped to my right thigh. I justify it as a utility knife and my coworkers who happen to be Police officers for the city of San Francisco just shrug or ask to borrow it when they buy a Coconut from Whole Foods since it has a "Glass Breaker".
"Yeah, I think that's what drew her in." I flip the card with her contact information between my fingers, a full name sits above two phone numbers and an email address. "It was either that or the leathers."
"I think it's because you can speak coherently and make tangible sentences while looking a woman in her eyes."
"I wasn't exactly looking at her eyes, G-Dizzle." This woman has some huge cans, I sure do love me a woman with an hour glass figure.
Dave and Nak do a fist bump, "Fuck yeah Nigga." They say in unison. Nak's pretty dark, so he could almost pass. Dave on the other hand, he's just a honky.
The usual questions erupt from them, does she have teeth? Did she see how much money you were withdrawing from the bank? Was she missing an eye? Did she smell nice? Did she have a peg leg or a hook for a hand? These and many more were thrown down, a testament to their worries.
"Nah, she was wearing some dark blue jeans, a black button down with rolled up sleeves, a white undershirt and some purse thing." Fuck if I knew what purse she wore. I might be FgtNick™ but I'm no Feanor. "Oh, she was pretty cute, everything seemed to be there and she has nice skin?" I only knew that cause I was staring at her eyes, since I'm a guy that meant my peripheral vision was concentrating upon her rack.
"Nice skin?"
"Yeah, nice skin. She's also a red head." I paused to think, drawing up the woman who assailed me with a question that caught me unaware, "I watched her walk away, she doesn't have a limp either." For all intents and purposes, when I go to the bank to withdraw cash for bridge toll, I never expected someone to talk to me.
Though this is more due to how I suit up for my commute on the SV, a pair of weather stained Sidi Combat Tourers, fraying Alpinestar Bat Leather pants, a custom Johnson's Leathers jacket decked out with TPro forcefield armor and to top it all off, one of my old BDU tops from the Army since I need the extra pockets to carry stuff, oh and the knife. It tends to keep people away and I like that since I'm not exactly the social type when I've only been awake for an hour and lacking coffee.
Unfortunately, a woman saw past the groggy sleep deprived veneer and lopsided stomping of a humanoid trying to be people, along with the grunt and hiss that passed for civilized conversation as she slipped me her digits.
I have her number and I'm calling her at six.
Call Bullshit all you want, but I have three witnesses. :laughing
