Wednesday, December 9, 2009


So, the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, I was up late. I tend to procrastinate, and then I rush to get things done quickly. I had already been to the grocery store after work, having come home with the ingredients needed to make the baked macaroni & cheese , pumpkin pie and hazelnut cake that I was bringing to a friend’s house the next afternoon , but I was worried that I might not have gotten everything I needed, and the stores would be closed Thanksgiving morning. So, I went to the kitchen to prepare the baked macaroni & cheese, and I realized I had forgotten one of the two most important ingredients- the elbow macaroni. So I put on a pair of gym shorts, t shirt and flip flops and headed to the store. This was about 2 in the morning.

So, I get to the store, and I get my macaroni, and kind of regret making sure that I hadn’t forgot anything else, and I walk by the produce section, and I see this beautiful black woman. I’m staring at her, and insisting that I must say something. I decided that I was not going to talk myself out of it, but as I took a step towards her, I bump into a stack of avocados, set up in a pyramid formation about 4 feet high. Within seconds the aisle was sea of avocados, rolling in every direction, as I reach down the pick them up. I hear a woman’s voice behind me.

“I’ve knocked down a stack of oranges before, staring at someone,”

I look to my left to see an even more attractive black woman. I’m speechless. The type of women I’m attracted to mostly are as rare in Beaverton Oregon as a barbecue stand next to a Mosque, and I’m thanking God in my silence. So, I smile because she’s trying to make me feel better. And as I open my mouth to say whatever comes out of it, she says;

“She’s gorgeous.”

I respond by saying, “so are you.”

She smiles at me.

Her response?

“Thanks, that’s my girlfriend.I gotta go. ”

Then she scurries off, walking around the avocados, towards her.

I was so jealous. Two black women perhaps in their 30s. Two beautiful black women. In Beaverton. Together.

And me, and this box of elbow macaroni.