He was the first person I saw when I walked in. He had a familiar face, one that could easily be forgotten, but it was something about him that was unforgettable. I’d spoken to him a few times before, but never took an interest in actually conversing with him. He would not hesitate to greet me whenever I would enter the club. I guess it was just his way of letting me know he was there. I knew he was interested in me, I’d heard the talk amongst mutual friends, but he wasn’t the man I’d been looking for.
“Hey,” he said, “how ‘bout a game of pool?”
He knew exactly how to get my attention. I hardly ever turned down the offer to shoot a good, competitive game of pool. Besides, I was no rookie. I had become pretty skilled at wielding the cue stick; in fact, I prided myself on being able to hang with the “pool sharks,” locals who had mastered the art of billiards.
“Sure, I’ll break!” I responded, “I could use the practice.”
As I approached the wall rack that held the pool sticks, I could feel his eyes upon me. As I turned around, he attempted to look away quickly, you know that I wasn’t looking type of look. Yeah, I saw you, I thought. Don’t be embarrassed, Boo … I am looking sexy, ain’t I? He’d only ever seen me in jeans, a casual shirt, and sneakers … just the every day “kick back and chill” outfit. But on this day, I was wearing a cute, above the knee, black stretch denim skirt that clung to me like second skin. It had four gold vertical zippers that started at the waist and went the entire length of the skirt. I purposely left about four inches of each zipper undone, just enough to show a subtle hint of lower thigh. I wore a black tank top that accentuated my frontal, upper torso area quite nicely (if I may say so myself). I accessorized with black and gold sandals and jewelry. To complete the ensemble, I had on gold and black prescription shades that always looked good on me.
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