Hunz knew I didn’t do bars, but I missed my friend, so I drove down to Chattanooga. We hadn’t had that time to catch up and just talk as men yet. There was always an extra party around us, whether it was granny or his wife Belle Air. Don’t get me wrong; I loved my granny and liked Belle Air, but I just needed some brother time.
I walked into the bar, looking for Hunz. I caught a few stares from the women in the room, but they weren’t what I was there for. All of them were ignored. Hunz wasn’t in sight, so I took a seat at the bar and shot him a text letting him know I was there.
“What can I get you?” the bartender inquired.
“I’ll take a water.” Her left eyebrow rose to my response. “I don’t drink. Just meeting a friend.”
She placed the bottled water down on the counter. “That’s two dollars.”
I gave her two singles and thanked her for her services. Hunz slapped me on my shoulder as soon as I opened the water, causing it to spill on my shirt. If he had a few shots already, then he was tipsy. Hunz had a low tolerance level for alcohol. I brushed the excess water off my shirt. He’d better be glad I wore black.
“That’s my fault, Gills. You need a napkin or somethin’?” I shook my head. “A nigga had to piss. What’s been good, dawg?”
“Everything been good. After college, I went to Ohio with my aunt. You know she’s a minister, so to get this righteous path at least eighty percent right, I had to be around someone who’s been doin’ this for decades.” I sipped on the water.
“I feel that. Since you been back, I haven’t heard you curse or use a derogatory word yet. Pastors can’t still be themselves and live for the Lord?”
The look I delivered was ayou can’t be serious. Hunz wasn’t dumb, so for him to ask that really had me puzzled. He probably thought I would still be that person he met in high school, but that was nowhere near the truth.
“Hunz…”
“A’ight, a’ight. I got it, bro. You got a lady yet?” He redirected the conversation.
“Nah., I ran into this beautiful melanated queen at the mall the day after I touched down though. I wish you could’ve seen her. I regret not getting her number. I wouldn’t mind courting her,” I responded to his question in an amazed tone.
“Nigga, did you just say ‘courting’?” He shook his head and laughed. “It’s plenty of women in Tennessee. I’m sure one will make you very happy. Aye, Rose, let me get a Heineken.”
“I don’t want nobody but her. When I looked in her eyes, I saw my future. Ineedher.” Every word I said to Hunz, I meant. She held some pain in her eyes, but once I got past that, I saw pure happiness. I believed she was on my mind the way she was because I felt the need to remove that pain I saw.
“What she look like? I might know her. And if I don’t, I’m sure Belle Air done came across her before. She can’t remember a name, but she can remember a face.”
I started to describe her, and that man actually jotted down everything I said. Who was he supposed to be… InspectorGadget? I laughed as he put on a show. He went around the room asking every male in there if they knew her. Stopping him was a no-go. His shenanigans were actually entertaining.
He came back with a look of defeat. “My boy, I’m baffled at these niggas. Don’t nobody know shorty.” He scratched his head and said, “Belle Air my last resort, then after that, you gon’ have to put up some flyers.”
That darn Heineken had to be the one that took him from tipsy to drunk. He wasn’t slurring or stumbling, but he was in there cutting up. He knew better to act like that in public. I always said if you gon’ get drunk, do it in the comfort of your own home. I wasn’t one to judge though.
Time passed by as we clowned around. Hunz had always been comical, but drunk Hunz was downright hilarious. Being able to laugh with someone I was close with, I barely got. Those moments were cherished.
Prayer, privacy, and peace basically outlined my life. People didn’t see too much of me unless it was church related. My aunt called me an introvert pastor for years before I started to believe her.
“Can you walk, or I’m helping you up outta here?”
“Nigga, I’m not a child. I can walk. You gon’ have to take me to my wife though, fam.”
I nodded and helped Hunz from the bar to my car, despite what he said. As he was tryna get in the car, he hit his head. “My bad, Hunz. I thought you had it.”
“Nigga, take me home so my wife can nurture me back to a sober mind. You gon’ make me box yo’ ass. That’s payback, huh? Nigga, it was just water.”
I shut the door, shaking my head. Inhaling a deep breath, I prepared myself for the long drive ahead. Hunz stayed about twenty to thirty minutes away, but the conversations we were about to have made it that much longer.
When I say Hunz tested my hand on that ride, he tested my hand. He started singing Shai on the way, and I tried not to laugh. He swore he had a voice like a R&B singer from the ’90s. Next time, he was gon’ have to take an Uber or something.
A twenty-minute drive turned into an hour. I pulled over on the side of the road for two reasons every ten minutes. He either had to call Earl, or he had to pee. My patience was hanging on by a thread.
We pulled up to his crib, and he was still running his mouth. Before I let him get out the car, I went to see if Belle Air was still up. She answered the door with a confused look.
“Gills, Hunz isn’t here. Is somethin’ wrong?”
