I’m sitting in Starbucks with my laptop surfing the bloggers of WordPress. Starbucks is not my particular place, but its convenient. This café is close to my home plus the weather is mild and comfortable to my skin. So I figured,”Hey, why not get some fresh air.” I ordered me several oatmeal cookies-which by the way cost me a fortune-but it’s Sunday and I figured,”Hey, why not treat myself to my favorite cookies.” So I did. I placed myself at a table for four. I am feeling somewhat like a humanitarian, otherwise, my ass would be at a table of two being very selfish with my space. Today is Sunday the sun is polite, I ordered my favorite cookies, so I fiqured, “Hey, why not be a little more inviting.” So I did.
I just finished posting on my blog “Too Good To Be True” When a figure decided to sit at the other end of the table. I took a quick glance. Then, I took another glance. This male is shirtless with a black Yankees baseball cap. I did say the sun was polite, not generous. I shrugged my shoulders without the care in the world. I thought maybe he is was waiting for somebody or maybe he was homeless. It’s none of my business anyways, the New York way!
I opened up YouTube on my browser and started playing Arianna Grande’s album that has been leaked. I would buy the album, but this negro is broke until his credit card is clear! I was so in the zone I didn’t see the message my mother left me. “Did you cook dinner like I asked?” my mother texted. My jaw dropped I completely forgot about dinner. I checked the time and it read 6:45pm I am only 15 minutes away by foot which is enough time to cook dinner before my mom comes home.
I closed my laptop in a hurry and gathered my belonging. Before I left I took a quick glance at him. He was concentrating very deeply staring downward at the table. “Yeah,” I thought “This guy is a weirdo.” It’s like why not meditate somewhere else. I forward towards the door quickly thinking of maybe running home. Before I opened the double doors out of Starbucks, shirtless decides to grab my arm. I recoiled suddenly.
This guy face was chiseled with about a two week scruff on his jawline. He looked every eager and intense like I owed him something. Shirtless asks for my name, and, for some reason, I replied. “It’s…Dontae, why?” I said cautiously. “I thought so, I I’ve been looking for you. I need you to come with me now and you forgot this.” He handed me my half bitten oatmeal cookie I left on the table. “Oh my God, thank you this was a fortune,” I said.
“Okay, we must go.”
“Go where, I don’t even know you name”
“I cannot disclose our location yet, just trust me”
“And you name is…?”
“Black,” he responded.
“Black? That is so racist. You don’t even look black. You look Spanish and should change you name to Spaniard”
He made way out the store looking back at me chumping away on this cookie of love, “It means power.”
“I don’t care what it means,” I said “It can mean African-American. It is still racist and you needs to change you name.”
“Look time is of an essence are you coming or not?” he asked sternly. I stood still in front of the doorway as he held the door open. I rolled my eyes and shrugged my shoulders. I figured, “Hey, its Sunday, nice weather, awesome cookies why not follow this stranger to an unknown location. It makes a great story to tell. I’ll have something to write about just in case WordPress makes a Prompt about strangers in a café. Like how rare that would be, right?
He took me to his all black Honda Accord. “You are so racist, its not even funny.” I screamed. “Would you shut the fuck up already with that bullshit!” He blurted. I shook my head in disbelief. He showed me the inside of his trunk. It was filled with baby pictures of me, that I never seen before. “How the hell do you have this, where did you get this from?” I asked, worried. “Luke I am you father” he said in his best Dark Vader voice.
“You are so racist I swear, first you name is black then your car is black, now you pretending to be my dark father. You disgust me”
I awoken with the side my face red hot in a fetal position. It was pitched black and cramp. I think I am in the trunk of his car. I tried to feel around me to see if my laptop was still with me. I started to panic. I squirmed around the tight space into my pocket to call my mother. Then I thought, let me call my friend first. So I did.
“hey dontae, wait you still owe me my metrocard dumbass!”
“Shut up, Taylor, look…I think my dad kidnapped me”
“you have a dad,? he kidnapped you? where are you?”
“Look I don’t really know, just do me a favor. Go to my backyard there is a mat that is going to have my spare key to get in my house. Take it then make dinner before my mother comes home”
“Dontae are you okay?”
“Yes, Girl, Would you just do what I say please”
“I am about to call the police…”
“No! don’t look just do me that favor”
“I don’t know you already owe me a metrocard. I need to get to work….hello, are you there”
“Yes, sorry seems like we hit a bump are you going to do it or not?”
“yeah, fine, what is your dads name though?”
“Oh Lord how racist that’s horrible”
“Right! I know, and his car is black too!”
“A Double whammy racist”
“Yes girl, okay I’m going. I’m going to text you when I can”
“Don’t forget about my metrocard either asswhole!”