"Open up," I yelled beating on Stotler's door. "It's fucking cold out here." Between the flights of stairs, finding a parking spot in condo village, and the chilly twilight air I just wanted to get into the apartment and stretch out on Stotler's couch.
As I heard footsteps coming toward the door I leaned back and put both middle fingers in the air for a two pronged salute.
"What's up, fucker?" I said as the door swung open.
"Oh my." I said sheepishly as a very attractive familiar looking brunette stood in the doorway.
"I ... I'm ... sorry" I bumbled checking to make sure I was on the right floor. "I was looking for..."
"Your friend's here," she interrupted, laughingly yelling over her shoulder. "You should have seen the look on your face when I answered the door." She said still laughing.
"You are ... Kelly, right?" I asked remembering I had met her and Stotler at a restaurant a few months ago.
"Good memory. Come on in. Dinner's ready."
"Dinner?" I caught the smell of a feast behind her hypnotic perfume.
"You wouldn't happen to have an unattached twin sister with loose morals, would you?" I said as I stepped through the doorway.
"You're funny. Hey, babe," she said to Stotler as he came around the corner, "I have to run back to my apartment to grab the wine. I'll be right back."
She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, grabbed her jacket, and ran down the stairs in one fluid motion.
"She's hot." I said headed for the back porch. Pleasant surprises always require fresh air and yellow American Spirits.
"She looks like Famke Janssen. You know, that chick from the X-men? She played Xenia Onatopp in the first Pierce Brosnan Bond movie."
"Weren't you just beating on the front door complaining about how cold it is out here?" asked Stotler following me out on to the porch.
"That was just to piss your neighbors off." I said blowing the smoke into the crisp night air. I pointed to the King's Feast on the dining room table. "She cooks. She cooks!!" I threw my hands into the air. "Apparently she cooks very well."
"Fuck you," laughed Stotler as he patted his little belly. "We'll talk when your done."
When I came back inside Stotler told me a story of two lonely people talking; discussing divorce, distrust, and distress.
"Sounds like another page for the Stotler file." I finally stretched out on his couch.
"You know you can't write about any of that, correct?"
"Yeah, I know. I know. I do keep a little file for the day you change your mind. The only argument I can make in my favor is that most people that read this don't think you exist anyway."
"Good." He said taking a piece of grilled chicken.
"I can make you look like the phoenix rising from the ashes. This is quality Oprah type shit, man. Rebuilding a broken heart, we can help a lot of people."
He just looked at me and slowly let the chicken melt in his mouth.
"Open up, Stotler. It's not as cold out here as it seems."
That Beautiful Black Man
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