Wednesday, October 31, 2007

When a queen fell...

Sometimes you hear that someone has thrown in the towel in his/her struggle to have a happy existence and opted to exit their present incarnation. Shock, disbelief, betrayal, accusations, condemnation cannot encompass the breath of the reactions that will follow.

As a child, I always considered such people cowardly. I mean, I would sneer, what could they be going through that they felt they could not solve? Now that I am older and have grazed through my fair share of frustrations and depression, I can imagine why at some point, an unscheduled exit will appear the release one needs.

Still I have held on and with each passing of the 'night' I am grateful for the opportunity to see the morrow.

Once when I was in school, I witnessed what many of us considered an attempted suicide. A girl, in my graduating year fell off the ledge of the balcony of our floor where she had been dangerously perched and warned repeatedly to dismount from.

She had been a slightly odd female; prone to mood swings, sudden displays of aggression and then surprising gaiety. I knew her, she knew me and we were not friends.

As she sat on the ledge, ignoring the warnings of our colleagues, she swung her legs as if she were seated on a swing only but a few inches from the ground instead of two stories up. I watched her from the corner of my eye not because I was concerned but because I was people watching. I would watch my classmates much like an outsider would watch a foreign people.

The next thing I knew, she was no longer there. She had lost her balance and fallen. Two stories to the ground below. Gravel broke her fall. Screams tore through the air as girls rushed forward.

Somehow, the SS1 girls who were on the ground floor responded like lightning and two seconds later, the fallen girl was being carried to the sickbay. Girls somehow had the intuition that at the speed the carriers were moving and with the weight of the fallen girl, they would get tired. They moved like a synchronised machine, moving to the ends of the train to take over the task and move her in one piece to our barely capable medical emergency care. Minutes later, the school ambulance raced out to the hospital.

Then the stories began. She had jumped, they said. She had simply leaned back and let go. She had been smiling. She looked happy as she fell. All sorts of tales. Night prep was a waste of time as no one could calm down. I joined in the talking.

Why would she try to kill herself? What an idiot. If she wanted to kill herself, we mused coldly, why hadn't she availed herself to the ten-stories high staff quarters on the compound?

According to the tales, when she was able to talk, they had asked her if she had tried to hurt herself and she had not denied it. Upon her return the next semester, we avoided her like a plague. I was not going to be the one to set her off and make her kill herself for real. She became even more quiet.

When I told my mother, she was so disappointed in me. She could not believe that I had joined in the common consciousness to scorn the fallen queen. "She was unhappy, why could you not see that?" my mother asked in her quiet voice that sounded much like a condemning yell.

I had been silent. I did not tell my mother that I had understood exactly what the girl had been feeling. I too had been unhappy. I had simply feared surviving an attempt on my own life than anything else and never taken the step.

I wonder where she is now. I hope she is happy. Each day, I choose to be. I refuse to be a fallen queen. I always have to find the strength to do that.

Sunday, October 28, 2007

Lace & Adire IV

I am going through my list trying to make sure that I have got all Tammy needs for her trip.
I think I have.
My phone vibrates on the table. Once. It is a text.
I know who it is from because it is three am in the morning and only one person cares enough to send me something.
Also it is eight am where he is and he sends me a morning text up.
"My woman" it says "guess you are still asleep. I am at the office and I love you."
My whole body springs to attention.
It recognizes him and it yearns.
I have told no one about him.
He is my first blessing in a list of many and I am so elated that I feel like I can have it all and will.
I close my eyes and in my mind's eye, I can see his lips move, the words reaching out to caress mine in a soft kiss.
I quickly text him a kiss.
His reply is almost immediate. "Are you working on a project? Why are you awake?"
"I am. Tammy and school."
He does not like my job with Tammy or maybe, it's what Tammy does that he does not like.
He has not asked me to stop and offer to provide for me because he already knows what my answer will be.
The phone rings. It's an Unavailable number. Long distance. Him.
"Hey," my voice is breathy and anxious. It's almost like my body is drinking in the sound of him.
"Love, you are still awake? I really have to do something about this."
I chuckle because we both know that there is nothing we can do about the hours I keep.
What we are not saying but thinking is that if he were here, I'd be awake and working and so would he as we both brought the other to a release so explosive and earth shattering.
"I miss you." I tell him. I am not going to beat about the bush and have him fish such words out of me.
He sighs " I am counting down till xmas. If you cannot come to me, there is nothing stopping me from coming to you. Either way, I am going to be with you."
I close my eyes. I need him now. Almost painfully.
"Talk to me," I ask of him "Talk to me in whispers. Tell me anything but whisper it to me.

Wednesday, October 24, 2007

Lace & Adire III

I am trying to concentrate.
Ms Cesare knows my mind is not with her.
Still, I am taking notes without missing a beat.
I want to be with him so much, my whole body is tingling
I don't know how much longer I can wait.
It doesn't help that Tamara house a home that is softly lit.
The hues cast by her expensive Neimann Weeks lamp makes me think of skin slicked with sweat.
The fragrance of her pot pourri makes me imagine what his sheets would smell like.
My thighs are aching just to clamp down, trapping him inside of me.
"Catwalq?" Tamara's voice is soft but full of caution.
I am not paying attention. She is not finding it funny.
"I am sorry...?"
"Would you like to leave?"
I swallow. How can someone who says so little have the power to make me hear all?
"No, I am very much with you."
She nods. Her head turns slightly, a graceful and effortless return of her gaze to the paper in her hands. We are planning her trip to the Hamptons. A "meeting" with one of her clients.
"It's all so consuming, isn't it?" She says, her words seeming to float towards me in my daze.
My ears spring to attention.
"I am sorry?"
"It's all so consuming. Isn't it." she repeats, impaling me with her now green eyes. She changes her contacts so often, it is amazing. Green for her is the most disconcerting. And pretty.
"I am not sure I follow..." I stammer.
"Something tells me he is not an average man. Now, is he?"
It takes me all of three seconds to decide whether to lie or allow her some insight into my life. I mean, it's not like I don't know what she does for a living. But we are not friends. She is a courtesan and I am her assistant.
I nod. He is very non average. I am petrified to have anyone see just how he is making me feel, so I look at my feet. Tamara chuckles.
"You are a sly one, you. " she sighs "Enjoy this. You don't know how hard it is to have that feeling and keep it."
I look at her lowered head as she returns to her writing. Who is she really? How did she become this woman? This woman, men and in some cases women pay thousands of dollars for her company. This woman, with whom I have never seen a companion...a partner. This woman who in her silence appears so unbending, formal, and yet so sensual and vulnerable.
"I know." I tell her, because I do know how long I have waited for this.
"Tell him that if he misbehaves, I know a guy who can make him swim with the fishes."
I laugh out loud because the way she says it is so deadpan that it is hilarious.
She smiles at me and I can see why all want her.
"Pay attention."

Tuesday, October 16, 2007


Every touch
imprinted in my brain
Every single inch upon my skin branded by you
All I want
Is to be with you again
Wait for the time, I'll return to you

As season's change
Summer burns with passion
I'm restless, I am hot
Waiting for you
Falling apart
Going insane
Hopelessly waiting

Lyrics to a song I wrote and had performed. Dedicated to you. You know who you are.

Saturday, October 13, 2007

Lace & Adire II

She lives in Friendship Heights. In a condo that was converted from an old apartment that was once inhabited by a famous DC socialite. I guess that is interesting. I am only interested how much it is going to cost my derriere to get to and from her place in the rush of a working day.

It has been agreed. I will come once during the week. On Wednesday. So her weekly schedule will run from one Wednesday to the next. Then on Saturday, I pick up dry cleaning, drop off the next batch, make sure the maid does the clean up like she likes it, cross check all appointments ("work related" or otherwise) etc. I am kind of a glorified maid but at the amount I am paid, I am considered an "assistant". And I am loving it.

I think the concierge at the apartment knows what she does or at least has an idea of what the nature of her job is. And I think he imagines me to be her protege or something. He looked at me funny when I went and I looked at him funny, right back. Caucasian Negro. Mssstsststhw!!

I have to go to Sensuale to pick up her package. From what I know Sensuale to be, I guess we have a new shipment of "accessories".

I have homework. I have to learn to drive. This is going to be an interesting couple of months.

Sunday, October 7, 2007

Lace & Adire

"What is your name?"
"Catwalq". I answer trying to hold her gaze. It's her eyes you know, they bore into me unflinchingly, like she is trying to impale me with them.
"How old are you?"
"Where are you from?"
"Lagos, Nigeria"
"Interesting...and how long have you been here?"
"Four years now."
She uncrosses her fabric clad legs. I try not to marvel at the fluidity of her movements. Her pants are expensive, I can tell, the colour is rich and it suits her. I am thirsty but I do not reach for my drink.
"Why do you want this job?"
I pause because I am thinking whether or not to be honest.
"I need a position that will pay me well and does not include the hassle of paperwork."
She smiles. She knows what I mean. I need a job. I am not allowed to work off campus. There are no jobs on campus to hire me and I am running on an account of red with bills piling up left, right and center. She needs an assistant. I am here.
"How did you think to get in touch with me?" her voice is as warm as the tea she sips. I feel cold. Why, I don't know.
"It just occurred to me."
What was I to say? That I had emailed more than twelve others after having perused the internet for weeks and that she was the only one to get back to me. She was my first actually. I try not to think about the fact that she might have simply asked me here for her own amusement. I don't want to walk out of the cafe with a croissant and a glass of juice as my reward. I want a job. I want to work for Tamara Cesare. I want this job. I need this job.
"I was not looking for an assistant, " she begins and then adds when she sees my expression"But that is not to say I don't need one."
I have to be careful to curtail my facial expressions. She is reading me like a book. She needs someone as mysterious as she. She needs me to be as elusive as she. She needs me to be as private as she. She needs...
"I am sorry, can you repeat that again?" Shit! I wasn't listening.
Her smile is not amused.
"How much of your time can you give?"
My answer is rehearsed.
"I can work ten to fifteen hours during the week and my weekends are optional."
"Where do you go to school again?"
"On the Hill"
"What do you study?"
"That is pretty believe you can make it work."
"I am capable of balancing the responsibilities. In fact, I..."
"Very well," she interrupts "I will put you on a temporary basis...we'll see how that works out."
I nod.
"I expect the highest form of professionalism. I do not joke with my business."
I nod.
"You have to be discreet....And I will not tolerate slip ups."
I nod. Dis she expect me to comment?
She peers at me from behind her tea cup.
"I don't know about you...but at least you don't have that wide eyes innocence that one would expect but you are not that sharp either."
I am silent. Why is she insulting me.
She reaches into the flat purse that has lain in on the table between the two of us since we met. She pulls out a card, a pen and begins to write. I am thirsty.
"You haven't touched your juice...or your croissant for that matter."
I give her a weak smile.
She chuckles. "You honestly think that slurping liquid or chewing out loud will dictate whether or not you get the position?"
I don't know what to say, so I nod.
She hands me the card.
"Tomorrow at seven thirty. Can you make that?"
I quickly browse through my schedule for the next day in my mind. Seven thirty is late but it's good.
I nod.
"Do you drive?"
"No" My heart catches in my chest. Oh no.
"Can you drive?"
I shake my head. She looks at me for a long minute.
"Don't be late."
She rises as she speaks. I try to rise with her so that I can shake her hand before she leaves. She walks away before I can say a word; my hand hangs extended.
I look at the card. It is a local address. I hope it is metro accessible. I can't wait to get home and check the internet for the directions.
If all is well, I might have a job. As an assistant to one of DC's highest paid female escorts.

Saturday, October 6, 2007




TIME: 7.00- 8.30 PM






Wednesday, October 3, 2007

23 is the new 16....

Today I am 23. Oct 4th. Officially
Don't know how the post shows yesterday when I did it this morning.
I am optimistic about this new year of my life.
In so many ways, when I was younger, where I am today is not where I thought I would be.
It has all been a blessing sha and I am grateful.
Imagine all those that never got a chance to see their tenth birthday not to talk of their twentieth.
I guess I am now counting down to 30. Psyches.
Have a great day all.