That look. Ok, keep playin .. pt. 1

Background noise, another television report of America doing itself. As I motivate myself again. The deliberate setting out in my mind of what actually is my body going to let me do, first. I move around a bit then turn off the news - pressed play .. I’m transported - the quiet storm, sets the mood and is the soundtrack for the day. Here in your garden, ooh ooh - the shower got me sounding like El DeBarge (to me).

The Cerebral Palsy hands do the thing, as I wonder if it’s going to play a role in that never ending quest. Ah, silliness creeping into the quiet - back to the garden. Do the routine.. dry off, deodorant and, cologne. Clothes matched from sneakers to hat. Completed by my, fresh new cut. The age only shows in the eyebrow called, shifty. All done up to roll out. The soundtrack still playin .. Donnie and Roberta, where is the love? Yeah where. Ok world .. the screen door closed off the sanctuary, we outside now.

The standard form of self locomotion ain’t exactly poetry in motion but hey, we gets it done. That thought is a reoccurring one, each time eye contact is made. Yes, the obligatory head nod to acknowledge the obvious. I just keep it moving. Donnie and Roberta faded into Stephanie and Teddy .. forgetting the headphones have me encased, those looks trying to determine if it’s my sanity or the CP - we care not, yall better sang! Then .. you entered the frame .. she bad! You heard that .. you heard me?? Awkward in a prophetic way .. yeah, you bad..

Just like that, I’m looking at “oh my god!”, smiling back. It was as if someone stitched all of my hope dreams and lust. The visual presentation of DAMN! And yet, in the background was that whisper of doubt. Am I too: crippled, short, dark, poor or, any of the standard traits hung on the scaffolding of my humanity. Ah, silliness let me drink in the moment.. damn, she bad! Regardless, it seems our paths will only cross in that glance and smile. Do I even dare .. “Ain’t no good Black Men no more..”

Me and my karaoke - the quiet storm quashed insecurities, that look timed perfectly with Phillip singing “reasons!” Crosswalks and curb cuts did ya mans DIRTY! You caint be smooth when ya wheelchair can’t go up on the sidewalk, without that soundtrack I’d been hot! “Can I help?” Only angels can penetrate the barriers of sound protecting my peace. “Yes, thank you. Appreciate you.” That look .. she BAD! My ass stuck in the curb cut but, the universe has a way of syncing vibes. She is absolutely - radiating, that vibe.

“I hope you have a good day.” EarPod reinserted, a few steps taken. “I can push you if you’d like .. I’m headed that way.” On any other day my response is dictated by a determined independence .. she BAD! No, that’s ok. I don’t want you to go out of your way .. “it’s not a problem. I’d be happy to.” Fuck ego .. Thank you. I think I got it. “You sure? Here, I got you.” All of the things about how many times, badness is a fleeting encounter .. the help wasn’t required. That soundtrack .. Anita belting “sweet love!” I could only imagine..

Fortune favors the bold! What do you know, destiny is on my side today. But before I drift into a never to happen fantasy, “My name is…” I’m Keith, nice to meet you and thank you. “My pleasure. My mom used a wheelchair ..” Not a stitch of pity in the tale just - a dope vibe. We lingered for what seemed to be an eternity.. “Are you from here?” How can I keep this close… I am. “Me too .. I hope to see you again”. Me to.

Damn CP hands! How am I fumbling this opportunity. She is BAD! Deep breaths.. we should get a coffee one day .. “I’d like that. Let me see your phone and, I’ll put my number in. Or give me your and I’ll text you..”

From the outside, the world will damn us for even contemplating riding this vibe. To hell with them. I just texted you. That’s my number. “Oh, let me not be late. I thinks it’s cool you did that with your feet.. impressive ..” I’m dreaming or high because, SHE IS BAD! Annnnnnd she’s digging me? Oh lord, let me not fuck this up! I won’t hold you, you have a great rest of the day. I’ll shoot you a text this evening to get on your schedule, ha! The look. The smile. The tuck of hair behind the ear .. “Don’t have me waiting hun. You have a great rest of your day to.”

Did that just happen? Placing the headphones back on .. “she must be a special lady and a very exciting girl..” A small dose. That’s all it was, a small dose of what my soul needed. Time breezed by. Caught up in a world where badness appreciated me, “Black Men don’t like they women..” Doom scrolling almost derailed the vibe, she ain’t one of those. She was BAD! Do I send it now .. butterflies at my age? What in the actual f*ck is my hesitation?? Experiences that left deeply etched wounds. They usually don’t pick guys like me .. here goes nothing.

Sent.