“There is nothing either good or bad but thinking makes it so.”
William Shakespeare
It is inevitable that more than once in a lifetime, a battle will ensue that will leave major carnage behind. In the art of war, the basis behind becoming victorious is to hone the fighting skills, get close to the enemy and to make the opportunities deathly. Luckily for me, this particular battle is one that is usually a draw despite the sacrifice. The virgin tied to a stake as the town watches on peering over the rock so when the big bad intruder comes there is no mistaking who’s the lamb.
The battle began for the same reason as always. Chasity and Tiffany are my sicken competitive roommates. We all grew up together, went to college together and packed up and moved to the big city together. I’m used to them competing over everything but there is one thing I have yet to get use to, their wagers on men. Any man that walked into their vision was a reason to declare war. Warren was no different, when he called all phone lines in the house were picked up. His recently call he decided to pour it on thick with his riddled question, “Win, lose or Draw? What is it going to be tonight?” The question fluttered around the house as my lips pursed together into a ‘look what you started” whistle, I almost missed the reply, “I’ll let you be the judge of that.”
I plopped down in the overstuffed armchair and took some deep breaths as the two ran around in a whirlwind. Unfortunately, this was a normal occurrence that we had dealt with all our lives. We were childhood friends that had made the big move to New York City with hopes of making it big. I was interested in being a writer, Tiffany wanted to be a socialite and Chasity was researching speed dating.
Tiffany kept the house buzzing with something at all times and Chasity was our resident “Suzi homemaker”. I was the observer to the madness of it all. The ear for the stories, the shoulder for the tears and the hand to slap sense into them as needed. I had a feeling tonight would be one that the hand would be used. They were always arguing about this or that.
“What color underwear should I wear?” Chasity yelled from her room.
“Who cares about the color? Eliminate the obstacle and don’t wear any like me!” Tiffany threw her head back in loud laughter.
Chasity scoffed at the idea. “That’s so not ladylike but why should I expect anything more.”
“You are so funny! Don’t get high and mighty sister prude! Don’t any man want a frigid lady.” Tiffany walked out of the bathroom and stood in the hallway with her hands on her hips.
“So, you think Warren will respect you if you had sex with him on the first night?” Chasity leaned against the dresser.
“Girl, I could care less about his respect. I want something that will make me speak in uninvented languages.”
“Well, I will make sure that doesn’t happen.”
“Oh, will you now? So, Miss prim and proper the best way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, what’s on the menu?”
Chasity and Tiffany went into the small yet sunny kitchen. Tiffany opened the refrigerator to present the wilted celery, too ripe tomatoes, a bag of onions, a clove of garlic, a tub of extra firm tofu and some hummus. A blind man would have thought that was a house of herbivores however we knew that Warren liked meat on his plate and his women, so that wouldn’t cut it. Chasity found some spaghetti sauce in the cabinets but not the noodles and wasn’t sure if she wanted to lie about the mystery meat in sauce.
Chasity sighed loudly and threw her hands up in defeat, “Ok, ok, I need to make a quick run to the store.” She grabbed her purse and keys and stopped just briefly to enforce her motherly ways on me. “Evette, please keep Tiffany under control.”
I rolled my eyes and shook my head. Tiffany overheard her request and as always had to put her two cents in, “Vette, ain’t my mama. I’ll be good cause I want to be! Now go and get us some snacks.” Chasity huffed and walked out the door before the door could slam behind her Tiffany was in my ear talking about her, as usual.
“Vette, we need to Chasity a man cause she stressing me out with all her sexual frustrations.”
“I know but you know she was raised with old fashion morals. I mean she believes that black underwear are only for special occasions.”
“Hmph, she is too by the book for me. I can’t stand that, you would think that I would have rubbed off on her a little bit.”
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