Ms. Perspective

Once again my eyes target the doors, Where are my girls? They KNOW I hate waiting… I wonder why they are so late, but then again they’re always late so I’m not completely surprised.  As I lean back into the worn leather booth, the waitress hurriedly says “u havin anotha tea? iz busy so i cant keep runnin back ova here if u aint havin nuffin.”  I respond with “of course I am. Another long island, please”.

By this time it’s 11:20pm, and my girls have officially gotten on my nerves. I mean, I’m used to them being 10 or 15 minutes late- but 45? That goes WAAAAAAAAAAY beyond C.P. time, I mean not even if all the slow drivers in Chicago ambushed them at the same time would they be that late! Ugh! Right as I’m pulling out my Blackberry to start sending the “Where the hell are you” texts, the waitress brings me the long island, and I force myself to take a sip.  I’m not usually a drinker but hell it’s been a rough couple of months. Between work, family, ex’s, and my friends’ drama, I KNOW I deserve a break.

I’m observing the club, as I feel the glass sweating in my hands. This place is one of my favorites; everytime I’m home I beeline straight for this jazz club. I mean… It took me forever to find a place like this. With the 1920/1940’s vibe, real laid back, live band-sometimes its soul or r & b, but it’s mostly cool jazz.  I gaze longingly at the microphone, “one day” I reassure myself.

“why don’t you grace the mic” in a smooth baritone that sounds all too familiar. I continue to sip my tea and wonder if I simply don’t speak…if he will get the hint to just leave.  “It’s been a long time Lexi” the baritone whispers.  Once again I glance to the doors, praying that my girls are going to walk in and save me from this…. I mean, I knew eventually I would have to see him again, but why? Why now? I just wanted to have a nice, quiet dinner and catch up with my girls. I’m never in Chi anymore, and honestly I just missed being able to hop on south shore and walk the lake.  I wanted to clear my mind, figure out what my next step-”Lexi? Come on Lexi, please don’t be like that” slices through my thoughts.

Once again I take a sip of my tea, and I can feel the his carmel eyes on my lips as they wrap around the straw.   Sometimes I swear men are too predictable. We both knew that he wanted to know why I haven’t been returning his calls or why I didn’t tell him that I was in town.

How could he not know that we had changed… he changed…or maybe it was me who changed? I don’t really know, and I’m not sure that I really care. I mean the sex was great and the conversation was even better. I guess I just got caught up in the moment… in the dreams that I thought he was selling. But I knew from the beginning that it could never work… He was in Chi…and I traveled too much to really be anywhere. So we made it a sometimes thing, and I know it’s not his fault that I began to look forward to his calls or the conversation.

But how could he not know? I mean… nevermind I don’t know what I mean. “Lexi, you’re going to have to talk to me sometime…. We need to talk about this… about…” the baritone barks. I can hear the cushions groan as he plopps into the seat across from me. As my slanted green eyes meet his carmel ones… a shiver slides down to the small of my back. I’m not ready for this…. Quickly I stand up, and I bolt toward the door. The waitress snaps “I know you aint leavin here widout payin…” So I grab the first bill I see in my purse and place it on the bar for Joe.  Joe knows to keep the change, and I’m sure he’ll tip the waitress appropriately.

A burst of cold windy city air hits me as I bust through the front door. I swear I’m not going to forgive my girls for this… I should have known it was a set up. They’ve been trying to get me to talk to him for months.  The shrill “beep, beep” of my Mercedes car alarm sounds in the distance, and the engine starts.

“Ahhh” as I exhale. I’m almost there, then… I’m headed straight for the Lake. Yes… I’m going to my spot. I just need some time to think. I quickly pull out of the parking lot and make a right. Jill Scott’s sultry voice follows out of my windows.  Speeding down south shore, singing along with Ms. Scott. One day… I reassure myself. One day.

I whip my baby into the first parking space I see… grab my purse and break for my favorite spot on the Lake’s shore. Cool midst from the lake caress my face and hair, and the weight on my heart and mind dissipate. Just the isolated waves rebelling against the shore and the sounds scribbles against paper can be heard.  Finally… Just me and air. I can finally breathe….

fingers gripping my shoulders break my concentration. I whip my head around to see who dares to disturb me at MY SPOT…..

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