Excerpts from The Best Dressed Intern- The Date With A Stranger

The reason my friends call me the “Black George Costanza”, is because funny shit happens to me that wouldn’t happen to anyone else. I couldn't make it up if I wanted to.

This is a story my friends love to bring up.

One day, a couple years ago I was in the mall doing what I do best- sneaker shopping. As I am passing by Arden B (they always have bad women working in there) I see this tall slim chick. She has pretty unique look; chinky eyes, and strong defines lines on her face. You couldn't tell where she was from Black, Chinese, Dominican, Cuban or Arabian. Now anyone that knows me knows I am great with faces. I can remember someone’s face I went to pre-k with. I am thinking to myself that she looks like my man's, Bradley's cousin Nicole. So I walk in and say "what's good long time no see." She replies "I know it’s been years. WOW!!" Now as she is saying "wow" it isn’t a regular "wow". It is one of those "shit you look a lot better than I remember you wow."
She is smiling dead in my face now. I look at my watch it is about 8, and the mall closes at nine and honestly I don’t like to shop rushed, I recommend that we get together sometime, she tells me she gets off at nine. ( I remember this day clear as yesterday because it was the first time I had ever seen Adidas Rod Lavers in leather instead of mesh- I was so excited I bought the new pair and put them on, and left my old pair right in the middle of the store). So I meet back at Arden B at nine, she says there is a lounge that has poetry night we should go to. Can this day get any better? First new Rod Lavers, and now I stumble upon not just any poetry night, but "Erotic Poetry Night" (I can't make this shit up!!)

So we grab a table, and sitting at the tables next to us are two hot lesbians kissing each other lightly (sweet!!). At this point the truth is I was still pretty new to drinking and barely drank unless on dates. She orders an Incredible Hulk, I tell the waiter I’ll have the same. The conversation is minimal, as we are listening to the erotic poetry (imagine Maya Angelou meet Girl 6). After 3 Incredible Hulks apiece, listening to a couple poets, and sneaking glances at to two young ladies at the next table kissing Nicole nods she is ready to go. So we decide her place is the next move.

What a great night, but of course this wouldn't be a Scottward “B.G.C” story if something crazy didn’t happen. We are on the couch (of course she changed into a wife beater and sweats). We start kissing and she says to me "I always wanted to talk to you in high school, but you dated Michelle." As my hands are reaching to take off her bra, I realize I didn’t go to high school with Nicole, and I never dated a girl named Michelle- EVER!!

I sobered up quick- Is her name Nicole??!! But even crazier, has she confused me for some high school crush!! I start to backtrack to the beginning of the night. We never said each other’s name, I just automatically assumed she was Nicole. We are still on the couch kissing, she is kissing my neck, my chest..I know where this is going. Oh boy!! Now do I tell her I am not who she thinks I am?? By now she is tugging on my belt, and I whisper lightly "we didn’t go to highschool together" She is undoing the zipper. I am thinking what the fuck should I do. Part of me just want to be quiet and see how this plays out. But the part of me my mother raised whispered again a little louder "we didn’t go to high school together" This time she heard me. She jumps up standing there topless and confused. I say "Shorty there may be some confusion, is your name Nicole" She says "yes". Then she asks me "Is your Kev?" Now I am standing there with my pants around my ankle, and we are just staring at each other dumbfounded and I say "no". She quickly puts on her shirt. I start to giggle. Sensing she didn’t find any humor in the situation I stopped. I told her "don’t worry I will see myself out."