"I can't believe," said Derich pouring himself a cup of coffee, "you deal
with Paris. She gets on my fucking nerves. Coffee?"
"Naw. I'm good with the Spirits. I don't let her get to me." I replied
crashing out on the couch. "I treat her advice like I do everything, take the
whole, only use what I need, and dismiss the rest."
"That sounds like the best way to deal with her, take the hole and dismiss
the rest."
If I am correct Derich had either met Paris in the past or had a friend
that dated her. For some strange reason he had no time for her. I always
wanted to see what would happen if they were trapped in a room together for a
day or two.
His condo was a huge three level monstrosity, not counting the two car
garage. He had let his brother's boyfriend go to town on the decorations and he
came up with a very classy minimalist concept. The rooms were sparsely
furnished but comfortable, quiet yet lived in, peacefully hiding the conflicted
conservative that occupied this space. The only thing out of place was the
grand flat screen TV.
"She doesn't get it. I've done the whole dating thing. I've done the man
whore thing. I just need to find out what I want right now."
I pulled out a pack of American Spirit Blues. "You don't mind do you?"
"Naw, go to town. It's still warm enough to keep the windows open. So
what the fuck was up with just blowing out of the restaurant the other night?"
"I was hoping Connie was working but at the same time I was hoping she
wasn't. I haven't seen her since May... ahhhh. That's the shit I mean." I said
taking a deep drag. "I need to get the rest of my shit together before I can
worry about her.
"I need to cleanse myself through Raheed's Five Levels and then I can get
back to the business of business."
"You can't just fucking do simple stuff like get laid can you? Everything
has to have some type of 'meaning' lately. Please tell me this isn't some
psycho cult wack job bullshit. I'm not gonna hear about you being found in a
room wearing a toga, chanting like budda, and smelling like stale feet am I?"
"This is all about the hook up. Raheed's five levels are the five levels
of physical intimacy most people go through."
"Ooooom, ooooom, ooooom," he said plopping into his chair.
"Fuck you."
"Level One is Making Love. This is the level many would like to achieve
but is just so difficult. Both people have to be on the same emotional page.
It's like a joining of two souls. Almost never happens."
"No shit," he said shaking a Spirit free.
"Level Two is Having Sex. This is where most people are they care for each
other on some level but one always cares for the other more and the other one
tends to use that to their advantage."
"Been there." He took a deep drag and choked. "How the hell do you smoke
these things? I feel like I'm inhaling tar!"
"Level Three," I said ignoring him, "is Boning. This is the friends with
benefits category. Comfortable if both of you know what's going.
"Level Four is Doing It. I.e. that girl who just left here as I was
driving up. What was her name anyway?"
There was a blank look on his face. He took a deep drag and stared deeper
into space. "I have no clue. I know she's the Operations manager of a
children's hospital but...no clue...I think she left her card here some..."
"Who cares, that's level four."
"Level Five is Fucking. Meet at a club don't know each others name. Don't
even make it out of the parking lot; or the bathroom for that matter."
"I'm a straight level four guy. I got a few threes but level four's my
speed. You used to be a four/fiver." He crushed the cigarette into the ashtray.
"Yeah I know that's what I'm trying to change. I'm gunning for a two/three
but I don't know."
"See you make even the simple stuff difficult? Why bother? Live this life
for what it is."
"I just want to try something different. Besides it's a whole lot better
than chanting in a small room smelling like stale feet."
That Beautiful Black Man
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