They wait for me to react, and I wait, too, because I’m tempering my reaction. I know exactly what I wanna say, but if I wanna be friends with these girls, I’m gonna have to be nice. As nice as possible. For me. Within reason.
The waitress brings my water, and after a few sips, I clear my throat and say, “Did you like that?”
“It was cool,” she says. “Why?”
“I mean…if you like it, I love it.”
They exchange glances.
“Come on out with it,” Katrina says, laughing. “We’re not sensitive.”
I chuckle at that. “If you like bowling, cool. Has he taken you to dinner yet?”
“Um…not yet. Our first date was coffee—“
I can’t help the noise that comes out of me.
“What?” Tiffany’s eyebrows raise.
“Coffee?Girl.”
“But I like coffee.”
I shake my head. “Yall gotta stop letting these niggas get over on you. You’re, what, twenty-five years old?”
“Twenty-seven,” she corrects.
“Bron is at least thirty, and he’s gainfully employed. I bet your fucking lip gloss costs more than a raggedy ass cup of coffee, right?”
She nods slowly.
“Look, you might like grabbing a latte on a date, and yay for you and that. But allI’msaying is that I’ve never had coffee on a first date, because every nigga that’s ever suggested that shit has ended up taking me to dinner, because I’m not getting all dressed up and looking all fine to go sit in a fucking Starbucks.” I pause to calm myself down. “And do you know what they tell me?”
They both lean forward slightly.
“They tell me, ‘Usually I just do coffee for first dates, but I had to come correct with you.’ Which lets us know one thing: These niggas can’t takeeverywoman they wanna fuck to dinner, but they’re willing to takesomebody. Is it gonna be you, or the next bitch?”
Tiffany sits back in her chair, her mouth hanging open. “You just fucked my head up a little bit.”
“Good. I wanted to slap you, but we just met.”
They burst out laughing at that, which feels kind of good, to be honest.
When the waitress returns to take our order, I tell her I want the shrimp po’ boy with truffle fries. And a lemon drop, because we’re vibing a little bit.
“Yall be wanting to fall in love,” I say. “That will come, maybe. But dating? Dating is a game. You gotta play to win, and you ain’t winning over coffee. Trust me.”
Tiffany nods, and the topic changes to our outfits. Apparently these girls are in Shein from head to toe, and I find that very impressive, because I can never manage to find anything on there that doesn't look cheap. Maybe I should just order some shit and style it high low. I like to think I can rock anything.
The food comes, and I'm drinking, and I don't know…maybe having friends is cool after all.
“So what’s it like being married?” Katrina asks.
“It’s cool. I’m in love. He’s in love.” I smile a little at the thought of it. “It’s pretty simple. I keep him on his toes, he makes mine curl.”
“Period.” Tiffany bites into her catfish sandwich, makes a face, and sets it down. “That’s cold.”
Cuz you’ve been yapping, I think to myself, but I turn to flag down our waitress. My new friend shouldn’t have to eat cold food.
