Tomorrow: ? ( continuation of: I'll have a Love to go please by Guadalupe Gonzales

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It has been very difficult for me to forget about the events of the last few days. It is still fresh on my mind. How could I think that a mere escapade could be anymore than just that, an escapade. There was no talk of love, commitment, or even a second date. There was no love at first sight for him. To him, it was time away from the hunger, thrist, cold, plus a temporary relief for his addiction. But that Saturday had meant the world to me. I felt wanted and youthful again. I was in the company of one younger than I. It was magical to me, four wonderful hours had erased a grouling seven year stretch of romantic drought. It hurt me so much, because, what had been to me the most wonderful time in many many years, was just another day, another job for him. How comfortable I felt with him, and he with me, or so it appeared. I would have been understanding if he had told me that it had only been that, an escapade in which, we had entered knowing that it would end there. Of course, it would have been devastating to me, but I would have known. But he made me believe that there was hope for me to continue to see him, yes, even if I had to pay for his attention, there, I've said it. Has anyone out there ever seen Denzel Washingtons' portrayal of the young T-shirt wearing, womanizing Malcolm X. Well, I met his spitting image Saturday night in the role of my ebony warrior. I fell, and fell hard for him, and now, I am being tormented by his memory. I felt so betrayed by his treatment of me, the day after, that I wanted to do something to get even. You've heard the expression, "I don't get mad, I get even". As much as I like to think of myself as being a fair and decent person, I had so much anger festering inside of me that I knew that I must vent that anger out before I exploded on someone innocent, that had nothing to do with my torment. Since it is my day off, I knew that I would be going out tonight, and because of his cold demeanor toward me when I went to search him out earlier today, I decided that I would devise a plan to get even. I would get a friend to pose as my date, and of course, just happen to pass where I know he would be, trading and strutting his wares. I would flaunt my friend in front of him as I passed by in my car and make sure that he saw I was not alone and hapless as I had been earlier that day. It would be the performance of my latter years. A performance in which I was hoping would make me seem interesting to him. I knew that failure would only be a extension of what he had already expressed to me earlier that day. If there was any hope of awakening in him some interest for me, I knew this was it. The result would justify the means.


Well here I am at the bar sitting here trying to look interested at the going-ons which I have seen over and over again. The same couples, the same people, the same place. I am just killing time until I muster up the courage for the upcoming performance. As I sit here sipping my drink, I am having second thoughts about my plan.

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