Oh Lord, Help Me Keep My Panties on - By Lynda Burton Page 0,41

front door.

I looked down the street I spotted chocolate man and his friends heading down the street toward Hudson Street. Luckily, my car was parked across the street from the club; I jumped in and headed for the corner. I noticed him entering the grocery store on the corner so I pulled up to the front door and parked my car. Perfect, I said to myself. I fumbled around inside scrounging up loose change to purchase a bottle of water and bag of chips. After counting out $3.00 in loose change, I was set and shut off the ignition. As I reached for the door handle, chocolate man was walking out of the store. He looked at me then my car and flashed those pearly whites at me and walked over to my car leaving his friends. “Did you enjoy yourself this evening?” he asked. “I sure did, how about you?” I replied. He laughed and gave me a devilish grin. “As a matter of fact, when I get a chance to get out and come to the club I look for you. I like how we dance together,” he said. I felt kinda silly to have a conversation with this guy and not to know his name. I figured if he gave me his number, he would not only write his number but also his name! So I played it cool and acted like I was in the know. Then he bombarded me with a series of questions. Was I single, was I dating anyone, where I lived? Then, just as fast as he asked the questions; he flipped the script and volunteered his personal info to me. He told me that he was an architect, owned his own business, and was single. He also stated that he lived uptown and in the same sentence asked if I would go out to dinner with him? I replied to his invitation. Yes! We noticed that his friends were getting impatient and starting to walk off. He turned to me and asked me for my phone number. I reached into my car and pulled out a pen and piece of paper to jot down my number. Then I handed him some paper to jot his number down. Call me Tuesday, and maybe we can set something up for this weekend.” He said. He gave me a quick kiss on the cheek and a long hug then rushed down the street to catch up with his friends. I ran in the store, purchased a bottle of water and some chips and walked back to the car to program his number in my phone. I turned on the ignition, reached for my phone, and turned on the interior light. I unfolded the paper and gazed at it in amazement, I could read the phone number, but he wrote his name in hieroglyphics! What the fuck! I pulled out my glasses and that didn’t help, then I turned on all the interior lights; and I still couldn’t make out. Damn, I still didn’t know his name! Well, I figured that when he called on the following Tuesday I could play it off and he would never know the difference. So I tucked the paper safely in the glove compartment and made my way home.

The following day the World Trade Center was bombed and New York City was in shambles! No phone service, train service was suspended, and the roadways were a disaster! It was nonstop chaos all over the city and all over America. When the phone service resumed, I called family members and friends, making sure everyone was accounted for and those who I didn’t call called me. I contemplated on calling Jordan, to see if he was okay but took the chicken way out and e-mailed him and prayed that he was okay. Two days later, Jordan responded with what seemed to be a generic response, “Thanks for being concerned I’m okay,” and that was it. Well, at least he was alive and okay, I thought to myself. After hearing about the thousands who were missing, my thoughts turned to Chocolate Man, and I picked up the phone to call his number but the call never went through. Was he okay? Was he hurt? I refused to have negative thoughts about him and prayed for his safety.

A couple of days later as I was stepping out of the tub, I received a call from Cory. “Hey Haley, I was reaching out to