The California Saga Read online

  I swallowed my drink down, and Touch threw out the straw from his Grey Goose and took the drink to the head.

  “Yo!” He flagged down the waitress then signaled for me to order when she arrived.

  I looked at all the different liquors that sat behind the bar. “Let me get, uuummmm . . . a shot of piss,” I said. Then Touch and I burst out laughing at the same time.

  The waitress said nothing. She just stood there with a puzzled look on her face. She probably thought we were already drunk.

  “I’m joking. I’m joking,” I said, noticing the waitress was starting to get a little impatient with our foolishness. “Let me get a shot of tequila, the one with the worm. Matter of fact, if possible, can we get the worm in the glass?”

  The waitress shook her head, as if to say okay, then looked at Touch for his order.

  “Let me get a Long Island Ice Tea.”

  “Thanks,” I said, feeling as though Touch had given me a pass on the first round. I was surprised that he’d ordered it. I was expecting something crazy like I’d ordered for him. I knew he only drank clear liquors, so I was expecting him to pitch a fit right away over the tequila, but he didn’t even seem moved by my order.

  The waitress came back and placed our drinks in front of us. We switched drinks, and Touch downed his first. Then I began to sip on mine. “Whew!” I said after the first sip.

  “Yeah, nigga.” Touch sang. “Thought you was getting off easy, didn’t you? It’s about five different liquors in that shit. Drink up.” He laughed.

  We laughed and joked as Touch waited for me to finish my drink. I was down to my final sips, and I really felt like I could go no farther. I was really feeling the effects of the liquor.

  As a stall tactic, I decided I’d take a little bathroom break. “I’ll be back,” I said. “I gotta tinkle.” I pushed my stool away from the bar.

  I looked myself over in the full-sized bathroom mirror. My eyes were glassy, a sure sign of intoxication. I made my way to the handicapped bathroom. Of course, I was nowhere near handicapped, but those bathrooms were always so spacious. So whenever I had the option, the handicapped bathroom was my first choice. I hung my purse on the hook that was posted to the back of the door. After struggling to get my pants down, I squatted over the toilet seat. That was the biggest challenge of all. I was so tipsy, I couldn’t even squat steadily.

  With the forceful flow of urine, I got pee all over the seat, and even some on the floor. I couldn’t do anything but laugh as I pressed my hands firmly against the walls beside me to try to hold my balance. Once done, I flushed the toilet and cleaned up the area around me nicely.

  As I stepped out of the restroom, an older white lady shot me an evil look as she leaned against the wall, her arms crossed. Ignoring her, I walked right past to the sink and began to wash my hands.

  I could hear her mumble from the restroom stall, “You don’t look handicapped to me.”

  Neither do you, I thought in my head, but chose to respond, “I’m not.”

  I began to fix my make up and straighten my hair when I heard the toilet flush. I rushed to finish touching myself up so that I wouldn’t have to stand next to the rude lady as she washed her hands. Just as I finished applying my lipgloss, the lady came limping from the bathroom, one leg shorter than the other.

  She groaned then positioned herself against the sink so that she could wash her hands. “Well, if you’re not handicapped then stay out the bathroom.”

  “Okay, so I used the handicapped bathroom. Sorry. Write me a fucking ticket!” I then pranced out the bathroom, taking extra-long steps like a runway model.

  Normally, I would have felt bad and been very apologetic, but I’d had my share of rude white bitches for one day, and I think, more than anything, the alcohol was talking. Besides, how many times had anyone really been in the restroom using the handicapped stall and someone handicapped was actually waiting? I don’t know about you, but it was a first for me.

  Touch greeted me as soon as I walked out the bathroom. “Jewel, come over here. I want you to meet someone. This is my boy, Calico.”

  I almost swallowed my tongue as I looked at the person before me, realizing it was the guy I’d seen near the nail shop earlier in the day. “Hello. Nice to meet you. I’m Jewel.”

  I extended my hand, and this flawless man before me grabbed my hand and kissed it. “Hello, beautiful. Same to you.”

  I only prayed that I didn’t look as drunk as I felt. I cut my eyes in Touch’s direction to say, “Help.”

  In his best drunken mannerism, Touch tried to find out what was wrong. “Jewel, are you feeling okay? Do you need to sit down or something? You look crazy.”

  “Shut up,” I said softly between clenched teeth as I got comfortable on the bar stool to his right.

  Touch directed his attention to his friend that sat on his left. I couldn’t believe my luck. I didn’t know what to do. I wanted this man, but I was so drunk, I hadn’t a leg to stand on.

  I snatched out my cell and sent a mass text message to all my girls. I had a special distribution list for emergencies just like this one. I needed some advice, and fast. I sent them a quick message that read:

  OMG grls I need hlp! I’m drunk & there’s a dude here I’m tryn 2 impress.Wht do I do? Dnt wnt 2 make fool of myself.

  It took less than a minute before the responses started rolling in. The first text received was from Sasha. It read:

  Do nothing. Leave. Guys come dime a dozen. U got enuff on the team. Besides, I need 2 c u neway.

  I thought to myself, Typical response. That’s why you home with the broke-ass boyfriend right now.

  I went to delete Sasha’s text just as fast as I had opened it, but before I could even hit the erase button, she sent another message.

  Ur @ a bar every 1 is drunk. Just go talk 2 him. He’s prob drunk 2.

  That was two strikes. The final text was from my girl Shakira. I prayed this was the answer.

  Is he there w/friends? If so u have 2 stall. Drink a RedBull and order food 2 try 2 sober up then talk to him. Or on ur way out have waitress send him a drink and your #.

  Finally, some advice I could use. I began to text Shakira back when Touch grabbed my phone. “What you so busy doing over here?”

  “Nothing that concerns you. Now can you kindly give me my phone back, Touch?”

  I reached for my phone.

  “Nah.” He put my phone in his pocket then stood up.

  “Damn, you that drunk just off two drinks?” I said, observing how childish he was acting.

  “Hell nah,” he said loud enough for his friend to hear as he headed to the men’s restroom. “I had two more shots while you were in the bathroom.”

  I noticed his friend was laughing. “That’s so not true.” While Touch was in the restroom, his friend came over to chat with me.

  “Oh shit,” I said to myself as he came over. I didn’t get the chance to order a Red Bull. I saw an unopened can sitting in front Touch’s stool, so I grabbed it, opened it, and took a big gulp.

  “I didn’t catch your name,” he said as he sat next to me.

  “I didn’t throw it,” I snapped back. What a corny response, I thought. I need another gulp of Red Bull. I felt like an idiot as I took another gulp, nearly finishing the whole can.

  “Well, you may want to throw it, because I don’t wear the catcher’s mitt for too long,” his friend said, completely throwing me off.

  Hold up? I know this nigga ain’t coming out his mouth sideways. Does he think he’s flier than me or something? “Excuse me,” I said, trying to make sure the liquor didn’t have me tripping.

  “I’m saying. I’m not the type to chase a broad—”

  “Broad? You obviously don’t know who the fuck I am. Please, baby, check my resume. I don’t wear the ‘broad’ title, boo. But since you think you’re fly, let me kick something to you. Yeah, no doubt, I was interested. I was even gonna put you on the team. But you wasn’t even gonna be the star player,
baby. Sad to say, you were gonna ride the bench. But don’t worry, I would have pulled you off when another nigga was injured—well, his pockets, that is.” I looked at him like he was a li’l bitch then pulled out my American Express Black card.

  I then called for the waitress. “You can wrap the tab up, baby,” I told her. I handed her the card then gave Touch’s friend a condescending smirk.

  Just then Touch walked up. I don’t know if it was the fumes rising from my head that sent that nigga a smoke signal or if he saw tears in his boy’s eyes, but as soon as he walked up, he could tell something was definitely wrong.

  Touch stood beside me. “What the fuck going on, bay?”

  “Ask your disrespectful-ass friend.” I looked his boy straight in the face.

  “Gotdamn, Calico, what the fuck you say to her?”

  “Man, it’s this area. I can’t kick it with these East Coast bitches. They just don’t see it the California way.”

  “What the fuck he say ’bout me?” I asked, when I heard him say California.

  “Is your name California?”

  “Yes, the fuck it is.”

  Touch noticed the stupid-ass look on his boy’s face. “Yeah, it is, for real, man. California is her first name. She just go by Jewel. Look, I’m ’bout to order another round. Everybody cool out and have a drink,” Touch suggested, assuming liquor was the answer to everything.

  “Let me get this one. What you having, Miss California Jewel?” Calico said, offering me a truce drink.

  “I don’t accept drinks from people I don’t know,” I said with a slight smile.

  He began to say, “I’m sorry—”

  “Oh, I know you sorry . . . sorry-ass nigga.” I just had to take that. I owed him one. “I’m joking, sweetie,” I said, seeing the wrinkles of disapproval in his forehead. “Okay, let’s start from the beginning.”

  “I’m Calico,” he said as he extended his hand.

  Now just being a spoiled-ass little bitch for the hell of it, I folded my arms and refused to shake his hand. I wanted to be sure I had the upper hand.

  “Come on, don’t do this to me,” he begged.

  I still refused, pushing it a little further.

  “Yo, you just make a nigga wanna . . .” He paused and took a deep breath, as though he was trying to refrain from doing something terrible. He added, “You just make a nigga wanna hug your little ass,” then grabbed me tight.

  Totally surprised by his actions, we all laughed together.

  Damn, I’m glad this nigga hugged me and didn’t haul off and hit me, I thought, realizing I would have been caught totally off guard and probably knocked the fuck out.

  Now that things were back on track, I figured I’d better wrap things up. I needed to get his number and get the hell out of dodge. I started a little small talk as I waited for the perfect time to execute.

  Meanwhile, Calico ordered a round of Cuervo 1800. The last thing I needed was another drink, but I didn’t want to take the risk of insulting him by turning it down. So, on the count of three, we all tapped glasses and threw the drinks down.

  “Okay, that’s it for me, fellas,” I said as I attempted to stand up.

  “Oh no, you don’t.” Calico grabbed my purse. “Friends don’t let friends drive drunk,” he said between laughs.

  “Whatever! I’m not your friend, so it’s okay to let me drive,” I said sarcastically.

  “Damn, are you always this vicious or just when you’re drunk?” Calico asked.

  “I’m a Scorpio, baby. We never stop.”

  “Well, Scorpio, I’m not letting you drive. I’ll take you home.”

  I looked at Calico from head to toe. I thought back to the first time I’d seen him. Boy, you just don’t know. If you came home with me tonight, you’ll be handing over the keys to your Benz tomorrow. As horny and drunk as I am, who knows the tricks I would turn tonight? My thoughts were interrupted by Touch’s call.

  “Jewel, come on, I’m taking you home.” He pulled my hand with his right hand, and my purse sat comfortable on his left wrist, just like it belonged there.

  Calico followed behind us as we walked to my truck. Touch unlocked the door and threw my purse and cell phone on the driver’s seat.

  I climbed in the passenger side and began to fumble with my iPod as I waited for him to gather some things from his car.

  “Oh shit,” I yelled as Calico tapped on my window, nearly scaring me to death.

  He opened the door. “Let me see your phone.”

  I reached over and grabbed my phone from the driver’s seat and handed it to him without hesitation. I’d been a bitch enough for the night. Now it was time to settle down and handle business.

  Calico entered and stored his number, called his phone, then handed me my phone back. “Can I get a call tomorrow?” he asked.

  The words, “You sure can,” slurred from my tongue, as my head began to spin.

  “Cool. Have a good night, sweetie.” Calico buckled me in and closed the door.

  Touch hopped in and gave Calico a wave as we pulled out of the parking lot.

  As quickly as we pulled out, I was knocked out. When I opened my eyes we were in front of my home.

  “Come on, drunken monkey.” Touch dragged me from the truck and into the house.

  As soon as I opened the door, I was met by a ringing house phone. My head still spinning, I couldn’t make it past where Touch had laid me on the couch.

  Touch grabbed a pillow and blanket for me and placed the pillows beneath my head, and the blanket over my body. “You need anything?” He grabbed a Heineken from the refrigerator and popped it open.

  I noticed my cell phone was now ringing off the hook. “My purse.”

  Touch passed me my purse then headed to my bathroom to relieve himself yet again.

  By the time I’d pulled my phone from my purse, I’d missed the call. I looked at my list of missed calls. I had ten missed calls, seven from Sasha, and three from a private number that I was sure was Sasha as well. Damn! I forgot to give her that money I promised. I immediately called her back.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Sasha said as soon as she picked up.

  “Cut this bullshit right now. I’m drunk,” I snapped back.

  “Obviously,” Sasha stated. “When are you going home?”

  “I am home.”

  “I’m on my way,” she said, as though I’d invited her to come over or something. Then she hung up.

  Touch sat an empty garbage can next to me and finished up his Heineken. “You straight?”

  “Yeah, I’m good. Sasha is on her way.”

  “Good. ’Cause ol’ girl is blowing my phone up. I’m out, bay.” Touch gave me a hug then set the alarm to the house and locked the door behind him.

  “You stink!”

  I thought I was dreaming, until I opened my eyes to a tiny blurred butter pecan five-foot frame with curly hair that stood before me. As my vision cleared, I saw Sasha standing in front of me, her hands on her hips. Not wanting to be bothered with her nonsense, I immediately grabbed my purse and pulled out my wallet. I didn’t say a word to her as I counted the cash in my purse. Seeing that I only had three hundred in cash, I pulled out my checkbook.

  “Uh-uh.” Sasha shook her head. “Don’t write me no check.”

  “All I got is three hundred on me, Sasha. I figured if you came all the way out here in the middle of the night, you would expect to leave with the entire amount.” Personally, I figured it wasn’t that serious and she could have waited until the next day.

  I guess she thought the same thing when she replied, “I’ll just get it tomorrow,” and then walked into the bathroom.

  I could hear the water running from the bathtub faucet shortly after. Sasha yelled from the bathroom, “Who the hell been here?”

  “How the hell you get in here?” I answered with a question, realizing I didn’t let her in.

  “I used the spare hidden beneath the rock. Now back to my question, please.�
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  “And the alarm?”

  “One, two, three, four. You use the same pass code for everything, bank account pin number, voice mail, alarm.

  I mumbled loud enough for Sasha to hear, “Umph. Note to self, change all pass codes tomorrow, especially voice mail.”

  “Jewel, I know a nigga been here. So who was it?” she asked again.

  “Why?”

  “I know you ain’t bring that nigga home from the bar.” Sasha walked back into the living room.

  “You think you know so fucking much, don’t you?” I sat up on the couch and headed into the bathroom.

  Sasha was right on my heels. “So who was it, Jewel?”

  “Gotdamit! It was Touch.” I realized Sasha wasn’t gonna let it rest. “Is this for me?” I touched the water that filled the bathtub to test the warmth then turned the faucet off.

  “Yes.”

  I got undressed and slowly stepped in the steaming hot water. Once I got comfortable in the tub, I rested my head against the bath pillow and closed my eyes.

  A few minutes later Sasha returned. She reached over me and grabbed the shea butter body wash and loofah sponge. She lathered the sponge and began to wash my body.

  Five minutes later I was rinsing the soap off and wrapping my bath up. I dried off, threw on a robe, and gave my teeth a much-needed brushing, and rinsing with Listerine. Now it was definitely time for bed.

  I walked into the bedroom and took off my robe, sliding in bed beside a naked Sasha, who wrapped her arm around me and began licking the lobe of my left ear.

  I grabbed her arm and gently placed it beside her and rolled over. I did it for a few of reasons. One, I was drunk as hell and not in the mood. We had gotten down like this once before, and it was good, but I really didn’t prefer the girl-on-girl thing. And, two, I was no trick. I didn’t need a fuck to give her that money she asked for.

  “What’s wrong with you?”

  “Nothing. Go to sleep, Sasha.”

  “Go to sleep? Do I look like a child to you?”