The place was packed with the usual suspects. That’s another thing I hate. It’s always the same people at these things. Nothing new, nothing even remotely interesting.
Stephanie
“What’re you doing? The show’s about to start.” I looked at my so-called friend Charlie with the chocolate truffle halfway to my mouth. She looked at me like she really and truly expected me to put down the Godiva goodness. She’s insane.
"Do you know how much these things cost?" I shoved I think it was my third or fourth sweet morsel past my well-painted lips and held still while she primped and poked at me again.
“You sure this thing looks okay? I feel like if I sneeze everything’s going to be on display and you ain’t paying me near enough…”
“Shh, Steph, I told you these people are very particular, keep your voice down.”
She hissed at me like I was a five year old. What is it with friends anyway? She knows very well what kind of personality I am, and yet she invited me here amidst the high society snobs with their fake smiles, and even faker attitudes, and expects me to become someone else in less than an hour.
I keep telling her, and any other of my friends who act this way, if they want that shit they’re gonna have to give me more notice. She caught herself just in time when she saw the storm cloud brewing in my eyes.
“Okay-okay, forget I said anything.”
“That’s more like it. Who came to the rescue when that nitwit chickened out? I told you, didn’t I tell you?” I shook my head and filched another piece of bomb ass candy as I got to my feet.
Charlie, my friend, is some kind of organizer for the rich and clueless. She’s been my friend since I moved to the big city almost five years ago, right out of college and we roomed together for a while.
Our mutual friend, Donna, another roommate at the time was supposed to be here tonight, but begged off at the last minute, leaving poor Charlie in a bind.
I told her that shit would happen, but did she listen to me? Nope! She went ahead and convinced herself that our most conventional friend was going to walk down a runway in her skivvies, showing off her size sixteen ass in front of the rich and artless of Manhattan.
You see, even though we no longer live together, we three have remained close all these years and would bend over backwards to help each other out, especially with our career goals.
Donna, bless her heart, has lofty ideals and can talk herself into anything but when it comes time for the follow through, not so much. And yet she writes the society piece for the hottest magazine and newspaper in the world. Go figure!
I licked melted chocolate off my thumb and eyed that gold box like it had the answers to life’s most pressing questions. In case you were wondering, no, I don’t count calories.
I go by the amount of pleasure I gain from whatever I’ve put in my mouth. That works for me. Pleasure is good, guilt, not so much.
“Oh no you don’t. You’re not going out there with chocolate on your face or worst yet, chewing.” She snatched the box out of my way. This food blocking heifer. Now I know why she’s my only skinny friend.
These bitches would turn me into a serial killer if I had to deal with too much of this shit. One of her is enough. Damn near too much. I don’t know how we’ve remained friends this long. Her lettuce eating ass!
I peeked under my robe one last time to make sure all my bits were well hidden and tucked into the right place in the red silk and lace bra and lacy boy shorts underwear set.
The last thing anyone wants is for one of my triple D’s to get loose in their little million dollar ballroom. They’d probably think it was a blackout.
“You ready? Your set’s next.” I was already bopping to my favorite song in my head. Nothing like the Dog to get my blood pumping and juices flowing.
I’m pretty sure these grey haired mavens and their wrinkled cane carrying counterparts would never expect to hear DMX in this burg. But hey, it’s only for what, a minute and a half at most? They’ll live.
I felt myself going to that place as soon as the first few bars of the rap melody begun. Anyone watching close enough would’ve seen the change. I love to see it myself.
The light changes in my eyes, my skin seems to glow with a healthy dose of inner confidence and my head goes back on my neck, adding a few extra inches to my five foot nine frame.
This music has always given me that extra boost whenever I needed it. An odd mix to be sure. No one would expect me to be into anything so urban as DMX rap, but that was before they got to know me for five minutes.
That's as long as it takes to smash all preconceived notions about the woman I am. And I live to shock and awe. It's the reason I'd left my hometown in Ohio to move to the big apple. One of the reasons was to get out from under my dad's shadow. Not that I don't love the old reprobate to bits, but a girl has to stand on her own two feet at some point.
And the other was to prove to said reprobate that I can indeed stand on my own two feet. I know that if I were still at home, I'd still be living with my parents, mom would still try to cut my steak and I wouldn't have the first clue how to do laundry.
Well, that last might still be true, I just can’t seem to get the hang of water temps and color separation down. But that’s what laundry service is for, and thank heaven my building offers just that.
At least I’ve learned how to cook in those almost five years along with lots more. I’m no longer afraid of my own shadow because of my own preconceived notions about this city, and I’m holding my own pretty well.
I brushed off the unwanted reminder that time was running out. How can five years go by so fast? At the time, when I talked my dad into letting me branch off on my own, I’d used five years as the amount of time I thought I would need to prove myself to him and save myself from a life like his.
As the only child, and one who hadn’t been born a son, I grew up knowing that it was my duty to take over the family firm. Something I hated more than poison.
I didn’t want to spend my life in a stuffy office looking over ledgers and crunching numbers even in my sleep like he did. I don’t think I’ve ever seen the poor man take a nap. I live for naps. So no!
From an early age I’ve always been fascinated with design and fashion. It was my passion from the first skeletal Barbie that I could not relate to at all, until now.
And that brings me to the here and now. I was wearing one of my own designs, in fact the whole get up including the robe had been designed by me. Only the shoes were by Louboutin.
I was very proud of my achievements and wasn’t too worried about the reception. Plus size lingerie was no longer the basement merchandise it once was.
Full figured women were learning to accept their beauty more and more, which was good for me both personally and professionally. As a ‘big girl’ myself, I was proud to see my sisters finally taking their places.
I shook my hands to relieve any last minute nerves and said my little mantra in my head. I’m a bad bitch and all must recognize. Thank heaven for integrated schools.
I had my friend Wanda to thank for my attitude and my taste in music. I have to call that girl for a get together soon. Her behind had gone off to Hollywood and after a few years, was now the new flavor of the year so she’s been hella busy.
This fool started buzzing around me again and I held up one finger. She knew what that meant and grudgingly put the Godiva box back within my reach again.
I took my time and chose a pink concoction covered in coconut and popped it into my mouth. “Umm, good damn that’s some good chocolate.”
The music went up an octave just then and I felt the beat in my blood. I was almost grinning to myself by the time I made my way to the curtain. Let’s go bitches.
JONAS
What is this music? It was the first thing to draw my interest since I arrived almost a half an hour ago. As expected the show was pretty much more of the same.
Ultra-thin girls and women with protruding hip bones, no breasts and a sullen look on their faces. They were probably hungry. For goodness sake Jonas when did you become such a cynic?
I wasn’t sure of the answer to that myself, I just knew I wanted out of there. I felt like I was suffocating and if I tugged at my neckline one more time I’m afraid I might garrote myself. I was giving serious thought to getting out of there and facing mom’s wrath later.
And then that song began. It was so unexpected it drew my notice. Mine and everyone else’s in the place it appeared. There was a sudden buzz in the room. It was the first time I picked my head up or looked away from my phone after taking my seat.
If the urban music wasn’t enough, the woman who came out from behind the curtain was nothing at all like I expected. Far from it! It wasn’t just the fact that she wasn’t waif thin, it was the attitude coming off her in waves.
No sulky sullen look for her. Her eyes and that little half smile she wore, added to the sassy sway of her hips when she walked was in direct contrast to the others that came before.
She has the most expressive face I’ve ever seen on anyone. And right now that face was saying ‘I don't give a shit what any of you yahoos think.'
She walked to the edge of the platform in red death-defying heels and a black short silk robe that showed off her curves but kept the rest of her well hidden.