Aquarius vs Scorpio Ch. 01bySamuelx©
I don't know when I started to like her. Or why. I remember when I met her. I had seen her before. She was a cute girl walking around. I saw cute girls all the time. So, I wasn't interested. Not really. At the time, I had other things to deal with. I was a young black man in college. It had just begun to dawn on me that I might be 'different' and I wasn't okay with that. I was born and raised in a Christian household and I was a tall, somewhat good-looking, big and tall black man.
I came to college and there were so many cuties around. White girls. Black girls. Latin girls. Haitians. Jamaicans. Puerto Ricans. Cape Verdeans. African-americans. Indians. Asians. So many hot babes a guy could get dizzy. And when you're me, more than one will give you the eye in a day.
So, I was walking around, minding my own business when I saw this mofo. His name was Hank. He was a tall, somewhat chubby white guy. He was also a flamboyant homosexual. Hank was always surrounded by a bunch of girls and he acted in an overly effeminate manner. I didn't hate gays or anything but I was no big fan of the fem guys. Back in those days, I had a lot to learn. I saw Hank and the sight of him immediately pissed me off. There he was, the fem guy. The flamejob.
The asshole who made it a point to annoy people and you couldn't do anything about it because he would accuse you of being homophobic and the school had a strict no-discrimination policy. It's times like these that I hate America. The land of the free had become a playground for a bunch of fools. It seemed playing victim was the way to go in America. Black people did it. They were always blaming all their problems on the white majority. Racist hillbillies from the heartland blamed their problems on blacks and liberals. Women blamed their problems on men. We lived in a culture where male-bashing was extremely practiced and tolerated. It was all " men this" and "men that."
Don't get me wrong, men did their share of bad things but women were unwilling to take responsibility for anything. They always appeared as victims. If a woman killed her husband, somehow she was seen as the victim in all this. Geez. Women in America liked to hit their husbands and then call the cops on him and make phony accusations. The Courts always sided with the woman. I found all this extremely unfair. The Feminist movement started out wanting to promote equal rights for women but these days they were doing more harm than good. They were breaking up families. If someone falsely accused you of something terrible and got you locked up, why would you stay with that person? Geez. Often, women didn't make sense to me. I respected women. But I can't say that I trusted them. I'm sorry. I didn't consider "playing victim" to be empowering. I think the current feminist groups are hurting women.
In an ideal world, men and women should be equal. There are shelters for battered women. Well, men get battered too. There should be shelters for battered men. But there aren't. Men are always seen as the bad guys in any situation involving a woman. When people talked to me about marrying a woman, I looked at them like they were crazy. Why marry a woman? At any given time she can call the cops and accuse me of some shit I didn' t even do, take my house and kids from me and divorce me. She will go to Court, play victim and get the kids plus half of what I got. Marriage? No thank you. Slavery was abolished in the 1860s.
So this was my mindset.
I walk down the street and I see men and I don't have a problem with them. I don't have a problem with women either. But too often they play victim in order to have their way. Sheesh. I mean, a lot of women will falsely accuse a man of anything from assault to sexual abuse and the courts, judges and prosecutors seem unaware of it. Innocent men get sent to jail all the time. That's why I take all news with a grain of salt. False accusations can and do get made. I am tall and cute but when a cute girl approaches me (that happens fairly often) I can't help but wonder about what she is. Is she a good person or not? Does she want my money? Is she a Misandrist who will make a false accusation against me? Or a man-hating psychopath? Those are the thoughts that go through my skull.
It's sad the world in which we live. At some point, the abuse I saw men endure in America got me to feel a special kinship with all men. We are suffering in this country. All men. Whether gay, bisexual or straight. Black, white, Asian, Latino or biracial. I read articles online about battered men. I read about the hidden side of domestic violence. I grew to respect my fellow man. I respected all men. I didn't care about their backgrounds or sexual orientation or anything of the sort. I still respected women, though. There are a lot of women in America who hate men. Some men deserve it. Most don't.
If most men were hate-filed, this world would be far worse. I see the good things women did. Raising children by themselves. Taking care of others. Going into the military to fight side by side (instead of against) their men. I respected women. A woman who truly wants equality for women and men would encourage the law to be fair to both. Such a woman would be held in high esteem in my view. But the hate-filled misandrists don't belong on earth. They belong in someplace hotter and darker...where demons roam.
Back to the tale...
I was walking down the street near the school when I saw Hank, the annoying gay guy. He blew a kiss at me and almost made me feel physically ill. I walked away quickly. I went to the store and bought some chocolate to eat. When I came back to school, Hank was gone along with his faghag Jennifer. I was distraught. Hank made me feel very uncomfortable. More than once he touched me and I hated it. I felt unclean. So, here I am. Just walking around, talking to myself.
"I'm gonna kill this fag."
I see this girl walking. She was kind of pretty. Dark brown hair pulled into a bun. Pale pink skin with a hint of bronze. Beautiful brown eyes.
"Hi." I said. " Hello." she said.
She extended her hand. I shook it. She had a firm handshake.
"I'm Lauren." she said.
I told her my name.
"Has anyone ever pissed you off so bad?" I asked.
"What do you mean?" she asked. " Was there a fight?"
I looked at her. " No." I said.
By nature, I am not violent. I started telling her about Hank pissing me off. I was really distraught. Telling some girl I didn't know about some gay dude who was harassing me. Basically I was telling a girl my secrets. That's not something I ever do. We arrived at the school.
"See you later, Lauren."
I said. "Bye." she said. I went back out. My classes hadn't started yet. I saw my friend John Frank and we walked together.
"What's up?" he asked.
"Nothing, man." I said.
John Frank was a tall black dude. Like myself. We talked and stuff. He was a cool intellectual like me. We went to eat at BK. The next day, we went to the school library. There, surprise surprise I saw Lauren. Apparently, she was the librarian's assistant or something.
"Hello." I said.
We started talking and that day, I learned a lot about her. She was a real cool girl from a town only a couple of hours away from Boston. A rather historically oriented kind of place. This was the beginning of a remarkable friendship. She epitomized everything that I liked in a human being, whether male or female. I would grow to respect her as a human being, as a woman and as one of my fellow college students. She was real bright, easy on the eyes and had that assertive yet not bitchy thing going on that you only see women show in movies.
Later, I would learn who and what she truly was. I am what I am. A black person. A male. A bisexually inclined individual when it comes to the sexual spectrum. I have my secrets and I guard them closely. No one knows who or what I am. Not even my family. When it comes to lies and deceit, I am rather adaptable. I don't like lying but mine are good and believable. As for my behavior, the ultimate in straight acting.
I thought I was " da shit" as black teenagers say. I was nothing compared to Lauren. She could teach Judas Iscariot about lies, deception and betrayal. That's a story for another time.
To be continued...