dante

It was a typical Saturday afternoon. I was just sitting around my apartment feeling slightly bored but relieved to not be working or thinking for just a minute. Interrupting the silence, my cell phone began to ring and the call came up as 'Private.'

Since my mother's cell phone number is blocked and is displayed as a private number, I didn't think a whole lot of it and answered expecting to hear the shrill sound of my mother on the other end. I couldn't have been more wrong. Instead I was greeted by Dante, a 22 year old African American young gent, looking for his brotha who owes him money.

Politely, I respond that I don't know what he's talking about and tell him that I am no longer in Syracuse. I have since moved to Chicago.

Dante, always the opportunity-seeker, takes this as a way in. As we progress through conversation Dante inquires what I look like by asking, "Yo... so wut chu look like?"

Just to egg him on, I decide to ask him what he thinks I look like.

Dante's response: "THICK. You know... a nice ass and some big ol' titties."

Once confirming my obvious thickness, Dante was hooked, and I began to feel slightly uncomfortable with the direction that this conversation was headed. After Dante suggested that we make things a little "more interesting," I told him that it was still daylight in Chicago, and such things needed to wait for nighttime.

Just before shaking Dante loose and getting him off the phone, he asked, "So you got a picta phone? Can I send you some pictas?"

The obvious answer was, "Yes." (In all honesty you would have been disappointed if I said anything else.)

What happened next cannot be posted here. Use your imagination. Dante wasn't joking around.