Girlfriends (Patrick Sanchez) (23 page)

“Shirley, would you behave,” Gina said, laughing.

“His sidekick isn’t too bad either,” Linda said, gesturing toward the young lady who was also going to lead the class.

“Okay, let’s get started,” the hunky male instructor said, trying to quiet the room. “My name is Will, and this is my co-instructor, Carla. We have a lot to accomplish in the next couple of hours. I’d like to start by asking a few of you what you hope to get out of the class. Any volunteers?”

“I was hoping to land me a man,” Shirley joked to the group. “Where are you hiding all of them?”

The instructor smiled. “Unfortunately, we don’t get a lot of men at these things. It’s really a shame. Men are not immune to crime, but it’s hard to get us over that macho attitude.”

“I just want to feel more secure. I live in the city and want to feel safer when I go out at night,” another woman in the crowd said to Will. She had just a tinge of annoyance in her voice—concerned that Shirley might not be taking the class seriously.

Carla stepped in. “Well, that’s what we’re here for. We are going to teach you how to avoid getting into any compromising situations in the first place, and if you still happen to become a victim of a crime, we want to teach proven techniques for protecting yourself and getting to safety. Have any of you ever been the victim of a crime?”

A few women raised their hands, but Shirley felt it necessary to share her story. “I was assaulted at the QuikMart on Twenty-second Street a few years ago.”

“Really?”

“Yes. The security guard thought I was shoplifting. . . .”

That’s because you
were
shoplifting, Gina thought to herself as Shirley continued.

“I was walking out of the market, and this big ole guard grabbed my arm and asked to check my pockets. Well, of course I refused, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer and tried to pull my coat right off me. So I kicked him in the nuts as hard as I could and ran away.”

“Well, that’s not exactly the kind of example I was looking for, but kicking a male attacker in the groin can be a very effective self-defense method.”

The instructors continued for almost an hour about various ways to avoid crime. They advised the women to walk in groups whenever possible and to always be aware of their surroundings. If they ever felt threatened by someone getting into their space, they should trust their instincts and yell “stop” at the assailant while putting their hands out in front of them.

Following the lecture, Will pulled out two large pads, and he and Carla gave a demonstration of what the women should do in the event of an attack. Will played the attacker, and Carla assumed the victim role. For the most part, the demonstration involved Carla thrusting her hand under Will’s chin to distract him and then grabbing his shoulder and kneeing him in the groin. As she shoved her knee into the padding, Carla let out a loud “hijahh!” They ran through the demonstration again and then asked the ladies to divide into two groups and get into separate lines. Will led one line—the one Gina and Shirley made sure they were in—and Carla led the other. Each of the women would take her turn fending off one of the padded instructors. When it was Linda’s turn, she gave a solid performance and seemed to impress everyone. Shirley did okay as well but was more concerned about getting close to Will than fending him off as an attacker.

Gina was one of the last to go. Feeling a little ridiculous, she made a weak attempt at going through the motions but couldn’t bring herself to yell while she slightly kneed Will in the groin. He asked her to do it again and really yell this time. She tried it again, putting a little more strength into it, and letting out a weak noise, but still feeling too silly to really kick him hard or yell very loudly.

As the class wrapped up, Gina considered approaching Will and trying to get to know him better. After all, he appeared to be only a few years older than she was and wasn’t wearing a wedding band. Only problem was, a few of her classmates beat her to it. She looked in his direction and saw two women hovering around him with goofy smiles on their faces. Deciding that she wasn’t eager to join his fan club, she caught up with Linda and Shirley so they could walk home together.

As they crossed the street, Gina thought about the two women in the class that flocked toward the instructor after it was over. They were like piranhas moving in for the kill. The two looked so pathetic, standing next to him and smiling, trying to stick their boobs out and suck in their stomachs. What was even worse, the only reason it wasn’t Gina standing there doing the same thing was that the two others beat her to it. Was it that bad all over? That attractive young women had to virtually tackle one another as soon as a decent eligible man was within range? The whole spectacle made her think of David. It had been about a month since she had met him at Rio Grande, and she had pretty much given up any hope of hearing from him. She knew it didn’t serve any purpose to speculate why he had never called. She had no way of knowing the real reason, but she couldn’t get him off her mind. During their brief encounter something between them just sort of clicked. He seemed like a genuinely nice, normal guy. She felt so ridiculous the day she drove by what may have been his house on her lunch break. The more she thought about it, the more she knew it was in her best interest to just let it go and forget about him. Yes, that’s what she needed to do—forget about him. If only she could do that.

Welcome to the Hood

“A
nother Saturday Night and I Ain’t Got Nobody” was blaring from the car stereo as Gina drove out to Arlington. She bought the cassette a few months earlier. She already had “All by Myself” and David Lee Roth’s “I Ain’t Got Nobody.” They were all good tunes for Saturday nights spent by herself, languishing in loneliness. Generally, Gina would have spent the evening with Linda, but she was on a date with Rosa. Gina hadn’t even met Rosa but already had a plethora of ideas about why she didn’t like her.

At least it was summer. Not that being alone in the summer didn’t suck, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as being alone in the winter—the cold drives home from work, waiting for the car heater to warm up, knowing that she had only the dog to cuddle up with when she got home. Gina loved winter and the cold weather when she and Peter were dating. She loved coming in from the cold, heating up some hot chocolate or Irish coffee, and snuggling up with Peter to keep warm. Lately, winter nights were spent curled up under a blanket with the dog, reading
Cosmopolitan
or watching television. Yes, the summer was much easier to get through without a boyfriend.

She had taken a nap earlier that afternoon and was now full of energy and raring to go. She didn’t have anything else to do, so she loaded Gomez into the car and headed back to the town house in Arlington to try to catch a glimpse of David, the guy she’d met at Rio Grande weeks earlier. She couldn’t explain it, but she had become infatuated with this guy she had spoken to only briefly and was determined to see him again. He just seemed like a decent guy. His only flaw seemed to be having Griffin as a client. She was considering actually getting out of the car this time, and she figured Gomez was the perfect diversion. She might even be able to get up close to the house and peer in through a window or two. No one was ever suspicious of anyone walking a dog. Any neighbors would just assume she lived down the street and was taking her dog for an evening stroll.

Gina had no clue what she would do if he did turn out to live there. Maybe she would follow him and engineer some sort of reunion—maybe she would
happen
to be at the grocery store at the same time he was, or the bank, or the dry cleaners....

If he saw her again, he was bound to remember how well they had hit it off, not to mention her hair was back to normal. Gina decided that maybe he didn’t lose her number. In fact, more and more she was convinced that the yellow locks she was sporting the day she met David were the major reason he hadn’t called her.

She pulled into the exclusive community and drove up to the address she’d gotten from the GW alumni directory. She backed up and stopped the car a couple houses down from her stakeout point. After turning off the ignition, she muttered to the dog, “Okay, Gomez, I’m officially beyond pathetic now. My score has blown off the pathetic scale. If he’d wanted to see me again, he would have called.”

Gina had been waiting only about ten minutes when the door to the town house opened.

“Oh my God,” she whispered. “It’s him.” David was walking down the steps to his car.

“Gomez, it’s him. Oh my God!”

She felt a wave of excitement and sank down in the car, hoping he wouldn’t notice her. Gomez must have felt the excitement as well. He stood up, resting his paws on the door to see what all the fuss was about.

“Get down,” Gina crooned to the dog as David drove right by them, oblivious to the whole thing. Gina started the car and caught up with David while keeping a safe distance until they got to the first traffic light. She stopped about twelve feet behind him. Then, deciding she would probably draw more attention to herself that way, she pulled up closer. Anyway, what were the chances of him recognizing her or even looking back at her in the first place?

“This is so ridiculous, Gomez. Your owner is a freak. I’ve finally lost my mind,” Gina said to the dog.

Gomez had lost interest in the chase and was sound asleep in the passenger seat. Gina continued to follow David, and it became obvious that he was bound for D.C. When they finally got into the city, Gina only faintly recognized the neighborhood. It was somewhere in the dark recesses of Southeast. The only time she’d been there was when her hairdresser, Dennis, dragged her to some warehouse party. The farther they drove, the more run-down houses and boarded-up buildings Gina saw. She thought she might be in Anacostia, the section of the city often referred to as the “other side of the river.” Gina had lived in D.C. her whole life and had heard about Anacostia but had never been there.

David finally pulled his car into a small strip of dilapidated shops and parked in front of one of the remaining open businesses. The sign out front read “Myers’ Books and Magazines.”

Why would anyone come into the hood to buy a book? Gina wondered as she watched David walk into the store.

There were a few other cars in the parking lot and a fair amount of traffic coming in and out of the store.

“What the hell, Gomez,” Gina said with conviction, and unbuckled her seat belt. Now was as good a time as any to “accidentally” bump into him. Not that she had any idea how she would explain what the hell she was doing in a seedy-looking bookstore in Southeast D.C.

“Stay, Gomez,” she called to the dog, and got out of the car.

When she opened the door to the bookstore, she stopped in utter amazement. The walls were covered from top to bottom with porn magazines, videos, dildos, vibrators, and every other sex toy imaginable. Gina gulped and took a deep breath. She didn’t see David anywhere and really didn’t want to run into him in the local Smut Hut. As she turned to go, a small Asian woman behind the counter called to her, “You the new actress?”

“Excuse me?” Gina said, wishing she’d just ignored her and walked out.

“Are you the new actress they’re waiting for? The cameraman has been waiting for more than an hour.”

“Actress? No, I’m not an actress.”

“Aw, no use getting cold feet now, blondie. Come on into the studio in the back. David takes great care of all his girls.”

“His girls? Does David work here?”

“Of course he works here. He manages all the actors. You shot porn before, sweetie? You seem like a newbee.”

“Ah, there’s a mistake. I have to go,” Gina said, and turned to leave. Just as she was about to walk out, one of the videos on display caught her eye. On the cover was a naked young woman on her back, squeezing her silicone-enhanced breasts. She had her legs pressed against a fat man as he inserted his swollen organ into her with a look of ecstasy on his face. The fat man was naked as well—naked except for a ridiculous baseball cap with “The Big G” printed on the front of it.

Girls Night Out

“I
’ve been working for the bank for almost ten years,”

Linda said to Rosa. They were seated at a corner table at the Mercury Grill just off trendy Dupont Circle. It was a quaint little restaurant in a converted row house—the perfect place for a romantic evening. This was their second date and they had talked on the phone a few times since they met, hitting it off better than Linda could’ve dreamed possible.

“Gosh, that’s just unimaginable to me. I’ve had so many jobs since college. I just seem to get antsy and always need a change.”

“Well, I guess that keeps things interesting.”

“I suppose, but I’m thirty years old now. I think I’m ready for some stability.”

“We should be perfect for each other, then. My friend Gina always tells me how stable I am.”

“Gina?”

“She’s a good friend of mine.”

“Did you guys used to date?”

“Oh, no, nothing like that. She’s straight as an arrow—your typical I’ve-got-to-find-a-man-before-I’m-thirty heterosexual woman. I love her dearly, but sometimes I wish she’d realize there’s more to life than landing a man.”

“How do you know her?” Rosa asked.

“Oh, God. I’ve known her for years. I met her when I transferred to Tenley High School. My parents had just gotten divorced, and my mother moved my sister and me down here from Pennsylvania. Gina was a godsend. I lived two houses down from her and she saw me walking to school and offered me a ride. We drove in together every morning after that and just hit it off. She introduced me to her friends and showed me around and really made me feel at home. I can’t imagine what my last year of high school would have been like if it hadn’t been for her.”

“Do you have a crush on her?” Rosa asked mischievously.

“No, no, not at all. She’s my best friend, and I’d never do anything to screw that up.”

“Is she pretty?”