My date rants about her ex and “typical male dishonesty.” So I tell her the truth: I have been practicing this conversation in the mirror for eleven days and I still don’t know what to do with my hands.
Woke up sore this morning. Asked the Bull if he had any cream for coffee. He said yes but as I started for the fridge, he grabbed me by my wrist and stopped me. He squeezed his BBC and said “this your creamery, nigga.” My knees start to tremble.