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Nola Hood Chronicles: On the road with August Love

The windshield wipers swooshed and swiped as heavy sheets of rain covered August’s black shiny GMC truck as if we were in a mile-long indoor carwash. I could hear the big raindrops fall on top of the truck’s metal, but all I could see was darkness and water as we made our way up the dark long two-lane highway to Biloxi Beach.

“What’s that hissing, whistling sound? Do you hear that? You should slow down or pull or, don’t ya think?” I was a nervous wreck, and I knew I sounded like it. August drove with care and caution, but it was terrible out tonight, and I think my attitude may have added to it.

“What you mean pull over? I have been driving for the past 45 minutes we damn near there. Maybe you need to go back to sleeping quietly. I’m sorry, it’s the wind and the tires you hear. What you thought you woke up in the Wizard of Oz?” He said jokingly, trying to mask sarcastic remarks prior. He reached down in the armrest to grabbed his pack of Kools and his lighter with his right hand and rolling down the window to blow the smoke into the atmosphere with his left. ” I’m doing my job to get you there safe my precious cargo. I wouldn’t want your Mama on my ass because I brought her grown daughter home as she left.” He really did sound and looked sorry too, the sudden need for a cigarette was my clue.

Our laughter cut the tension that was in the air. I thought about it and August was right my Mom came down to visit from Minnesota, and she must believe either this is the 90s or I hadn’t aged, because she treats me like she did when I was a teenage mom. It’s funny her tone hasn’t changed either; ‘Take your baby. I’m not babysitting. I don’t want to meet him. Where y’ all going? What’s his license plate? If you not back by the time you said you would don’t worry about me watching my granddaughter anymore, ya hear me?” Lastly, ”Bring me some good food back, I know y’ all gonna eat out.”

“I didn’t realize I fell asleep. How rude of me, I’m sorry for my bad passenger etiquette.” I looked at him, touched his broad shoulder and said, “Forgive me for falling asleep on you and falling so fast, maybe it was for the best, because of look at this rain!” If it wasn’t for the heavy raindrops tap dancing on top of the roof of the truck, I think I wouldn’t have awakened. The truck road smooth and he turned the music down, possibly because I was sleep or so he could concentrate on the highway.

“Are you nervous?” he asked as he grabbed my hand.

“Yes, I am, it’s just the rain is coming down so hard and I told you I’m nervous about riding over that long bridge surrounded by all that water,” I replied sounding nervous. “Where did all this rain come from anyway? There goes laying on the beach tomorrow.” I tried not to sound disappointed, but I love being by the water and it didn’t matter if I was alone or with children or a fine ass man.

“I didn’t check, and this was a spontaneous trip, remember? I called you a few hours ago and booked the hotel minutes into our drive,” he said in a deep stern voice.

It was my first time hearing him sound aggravated, but I was coming off as a brat. I was pleasantly surprised and happy he wanted to spend some time with me. We have been out on several dates, since meeting almost three months ago, but this be our first time spending so many hours together, waking up to each other and I was nervous. Let me correct that statement, I’m dating him, and I’m his FWB. Yes, it’s that way. Well, his definition of what we have is labeled “Friends with Benefits.” Like what the hell is that? I founded that it’s a way to trick your mind that its a step above a ” Booty Call and a step below “Dating” in a 40+ man’s world. He’s single he states after being married to his junior high school sweetheart for most his life which is why I let him use whatever lingo he chooses. But in my world we are dating, date other people, and as of now, we decide to be monogamous with only each other if that makes any sense.

I know it doesn’t but, it still doesn’t help me feel any more secure with spending a whole 48hrs with this man. I haven’t wakened up to a man in years, like a decade and so many factors come into play like my 40yr old body is not what it used to be, though I’m reasonably content I have a small muffin top, my breast still sits up nice, but my butt… Ohh where did my nice booty go, my Aunties used to say it sat up like a horse butt, but now I guess it’s low like a mule? Then there this hair issue, I knew I should have kept my locks! What if my lace front wig shifts in the middle of the night or worse come off! What if he wakes up first and my mouth is wide open with slop trailing down my chin! I forgot about the “What about him’s” and what if he snores?? I put a pillow over my husband’s face on more than one occasion until we found out he had sleep apnea. I could have suffocated the poor loud pig monster grunter. What if he one of those wrap his legs and arms spooning type? I can’t sleep with no one all in my space, I get hot even with my daughter sleeping with me, and I always put her in her bed after she falls asleep. I don’t know how this is going to work out. Maybe we should request a suite or at least double beds. As much as he likes to proclaim he is very single, I love and am comfortable with my singleness too. I felt an anxiety attack come on and he sensed it.

“I didn’t mean to snap at you, but I didn’t want you to have your hopes all up. It’s just a little time away from New Orleans, the city life. I see you running from event to event, and I remembered you saying how much you love being by the water and I thought to ask my friend if she wanted to join me so that she could relax. That’s all this trip is, babe.” He tried his best to get me with his thick New Orleans accent, and he would have, but he had to add and draw out that word Friend again.

“Look F.R.I.E.N.D, I make a big deal of going to the lakefront,” I added an eye roll and finger snap to let him know, I caught his little friend remark… I’m so tired of telling him I like what we have. He doesn’t act like he’s egotistical, but I hope I don’t have to humble him. I been married twice, engaged three, four, five, ten times since I was 16. If I had had common sense, I could have had an engagement ring online store now, but no I threw the rings in the lake or threw them out of moving cars. I don’t have the time to cook and clean behind my daughter, add a full-time man will not work for me. But the next time he checks me for emotions or asks if I would be mad if he had sex with someone else; I’ll tell him, I’m, already screwing the mailman and see how he feels. He doesn’t understand that’s the emotional part right there. Is there anyone, man or woman who wants to know who the other is screwing, like really?

I’m sitting there with my head on the headrest, eyes closed, biting my top and bottom lip to quite myself. Woosah, inhale, exhale, this man has taken yo ass out of the house and treating you to a weekend at Biloxi’s 5-star resort on the beach. Come on smile chic, smile, y’ all going to have a nice time, just look at that hardworking, tall, caramel colored, fine and intelligent New Orleans man driving you to the beach. That’s my girl, be kind to that man. I reach from my Pepsi and nearly wasted it all over me thinking he could read my mind and laughed out loud. It worked too.

“Look at you, what you were about to say something flip. Weren’t you? Well, I’m ready for Uptown, 3rd Ward slick talking ass. I bet you stayed in the corner and holding your finger over your lip in church, huh? Po thang.” He looked over at me shaking his pointer finger at me while laughing as a huge flash of lightning zapped our attention.

The rain slacked up, but streaks of lightning lit up the dark blue-black sky, followed by crackling booms of thunder that shook the truck. I gripped the sides of my seat tightly and searched the windshield for a clear opening to see the road.

“See what you did.. God doesn’t like people messing with me. You better hurry up and do that cross your heart and kiss your hand thingy’ all did in Catholic school with your bougie prep school behind. I never date boys from the East no way, and I see why now.” I gave him a soft love hit on the head.

August wasn’t the first New Orleans man I met, but he was the first one to have that Nola Boys, well Nola Men pazzazz and wasn’t scared of tools. I love a man who knows how to fix things. August made me feel like home; he even smelled like home. He brought out my like a teenager spirit; the years I missed being a teen mom seemed to take off where I left them at with him. We have fun together until he wants to act like he my Daddy, but then I liked that too. New Orleans boys were raised to lead, love and protect women and girls and from what I heard and seen August was doing a great job at honoring the legacy.

I squinted and said, “I can barely see, and I have perfect vision, Mr. Love. How you’re doing over there seeing the with bifocals grandpa.”

“Oh, you wanna go there? And, Yes, I can see it very well, thank you. I saw very well to get you over Lake Ponchartrain 10 miles back while you were over there sounding like a sleeping snoring chicken, Ms. Nola Chic. Did I say that right? Or is it Ms. Nola Chickenhead?” He was cracking up laughing, and I had to swallow my urge to join him.

“We have jokes Nah do we? And for the record, I don’t snore.” I had to turn away from him to find my mad-sad face, but I couldn’t get my lip to poke out.

He gently took my face in his big hands turning it to him and said, “Let me see your face because I know you were holding back a laugh. Girl, you weren’t snoring with your sore ass.” I busted out and laughed as he pulled my face to his cheek demanding a kiss.

“Bruh, can you like drive with two hands and leave me alone, geez you know I don’t like to drive in this weather,” I said seriously but with a big kool-aid smile on my face.

“Don’t worry my precious cargo, and I’ll get you to your destination safely. Plus, We almost there. You’re going to love this resort there’s an indoor pool and jacuzzi, so if it rains, you can do that. We will walk on the beach before we leave, regardless of the weather. Well, I’ll watch you walk in the sand from the truck.” He laughed.

“Really?? Wow!” I was hurt and mad, and he knew he hit a nerve.

“Let me stop teasing you. I have something that will take your mind off the rain, and it will help you relax. You want it, Nola? Just say yes, and I’ll hook you up real good,” He said slyly.

“What, you were were talking about, boi” I was curious and a little to wiling for my comfort for some reason.

” I need you to lean back to get it, so lean back, relax, and I’ll give it to you, ok babe?” He looked at me licking his LL Cool J lips.

I gave him a side eye, laid back as he wished and said, “I’m not taking off no clothes, and your and your hands are to stay on the wheel, it’s raining to risque things like that.”

“Look who’s talking, get yo mind out the gutter, Ms and relax.”

Yes, I embarrassed myself and but managed to ask “But what else were you talking about. You’re the one saying you have something for me and lean back, etc. It’s not like you have a gift for me or do you?” The grin on his face answered my question, and he wasn’t talking about no flowers and a wrapped gift. He just doesn’t know who he is was messing with. I had a little something for him too. I reached over and rubbed his sexy shiny perfect round brown head, ran my fingertips down his muscular, tattooed arm, dropped my hand on his thigh and was surprised to feel his sweet, thick meat was laying so far down his leg. I traced along the length of it with one finger, stroking it as if I was performing a hand job through his jeans and whispered, “I have something for you too, Boo, so give me what you got for a pork chop!” And we both busted out into a tearful laugh.

“You always have to try to be a comedian, don’t you? Lil goofy girl, this not the time to tease me like that. You will have a heart attack if was to pull this damn truck over and let you finish what you started. So sit yo ass back and relax and let me get your fine ass to this damn hotel. I’m hard as a rock because you want to play a massage therapist this not funny. This shit hurt, babe. How about you just kiss the tip? That will make it stop hurting, and I promise to keep my eyes on the road, please.” He looked and sounded serious then he laughed and said, “I can wait, but I’m gonna get you real good, yeah perfect” His perfect eyebrow raised, and he winked his hypnotizing dark brown eyes at me, and I knew he meant it too. August Love certainly knew how to pull me in, but I wasn’t sucking on ca chocolate popsicle in his truck, well not while he was driving anyway.

He was right, I can be a freak in the sheets, but I most defiantly can’t hang in the streets and the highways don’t know my ass. “You’re lucky I like you, Mr. Love. I’ll take care of you at the hotel, ” I said seductively as let out a sigh, leaned back and watched him searched in the glove compartment for my stress release. My mind wondered if he had one of those lil bullets that Pleasure Quest sells?? He better not pull no damn vibrator out on me. I found myself getting mad at the thought. A woman may have a vibrator stashed here and there, but a man shouldn’t have anything but some lotion, a towel or some wipes and condoms in his car as it relates to sex. Wait I may have given him a few of those vagoogles, silicone vaginal messages that fit over one’s fingers or penis that Mistress Natchez gave away at her “Do me right” Lady’s Conference?? She gave me about a hundred of those things to give away to promote her business. I didn’t see any harm with giving them to him then, but now… Yes, my mind was gone and so was I if he pulled out a damn vibrator.

My arms were folded tight across my chest, my heart was pounding, and I was taping my foot on the floor of the truck.

“Alright, I found it! And from your body language, you look like you need it bad, but this will help for now” he laughed and tapped my nose with the shiny CD before he put it into the dashboard.

Ohhh music, you big dummy I thought to myself as I sank into the seat and turned my face towards my window so he wouldn’t question why I had the look of relief across my face. There was complete silence between us as he selected his playlist and I was able to heat the car whistle as it moved against the blue-black night when I noticed a sign: Biloxi 20 miles. He broke our silence and said, ” Did you see the sign, we almost there, but you will be coming out those panties in the next 3 miles gurllll.”

”Let’s see because my Mama has the key to my chastity belt I’m wearing.”

I’m trying something new with my writing. I typically write in memoir and non-fiction form, but I needed a distraction and wanted to share a part of my life I never speak of unless it has to do with domestic abuse. I had some really nice men in my life, and I want to spotlight some good fun times I experience dating in New Orleans. I have changed the names for privacy and may have embellished some things. Let me know what you all think.

Thank you for reading! Chic Nola 💞⚜️

Here’s Mistress Natchez’s info: HTTP://myzonepleasurerequests.weebly.com

Via googlele

A native of New Orleans, who left her beloved New Orleans to spend twenty years of living in the land of Minnesota Not So Nice. Minnesota was full of opportunities but would learn that the soul of the state and the people who made it was just as icy cold as the temperatures. After the years and my 40th birthday flew by, I decided it was time to pack up my youngest child and come back to my roots, my birthplace the city that not only birthed me but gave me life. I would not be who I am without my New Orleans beginnings. I am all things that would challenge the belief of growing up in New Orleans. I was a 16yr old teen mother of a premature baby born with a severe medical disability. And only With the help of my mother, was it possible for me to BE! I was able to endure and survive the obstacles laid before my child and me. In a city that was built by my family, but did not allow for us to reap the benefits I overcame. Charity Hospital was my second home — a building filled with miracle workers who made it possible for my daughter to have life. I have lived a life of rainy days with peeks of sunshine, that are my children, including those not of my womb. I'm the proud mother of three and a grandmother of three. My dream was to live the life of the nursery rhyme of ”The Old Lady Who lived in a shoe,” and for the most part, I did. I cared for several children over the years as a special needs foster parent. I would learn that my love was not enough for some children, but I loved them through their pain. I'm not sure if I ever had a case of true love or came close to what love looks like on television, but I had my share of men and the mirage of love. I survived two abusive marriages. Though I longed to return to New Orleans on a daily bases, I must admit my move was one of the best decisions made for me. I am a college graduate; I was a successful entrepreneur. I coowned a soul food restaurant and catering company in Minnesota for 12 years. I developed the talent of creating custom cakes after the murder of my beloved cousin Melvin Paul. He survived Katrina only to go to Minneapolis six months later to be murdered over a parking spot dispute. But with the challenge of creating a simple wedding cake, I was able to find healing. I created the House of Cakes in honor of him. Minnesota life had me pretty materialistic. I worked to the point I do not remember much, but work and handing my children love money. I thought by having the big house on the hill, a husband, having a family, the ultimate provider and being involved in all things that matter, plus having the funds to match would cure me of what I was told was a generational curse of lack of everything from money, love to even self-love. But for the most part, that life poisoned my heart and soul. I was blinded by visions fed to me by the media. I was told I wasn't anything unless I was better than the Jones's. I lived being ok with a broken, bleeding heart. Life like this did not exist in my family while living in New Orleans from what I viewed with my eyes and soul. We may not have had all the things I acquired over the years, but we were happy, we were together. Family outside of New Orleans wasn't family anymore. We lived separate lives and had awkward moments when we bumped into each other in public. I hated living in Minnesota even though life their helped me in so many ways. I felt deep down the only way to repair it was to get back to my roots, my soul, my home, myself, my New Orleans. I'm here, and I love it. Even being in the so-called Blighted Area of New Orleans and not having all the financial and material security, I'm happy. I am determined that She, yes, New Orleans is a woman is just like me; together, we will overcome and will rise from all that tried to kill our spirit. Nothing like starting from the bottom and making your way back up!. I just know in my heart that New Orleans will provide for me. There's a bank account with funds in it owed to me by way of back pay for my ancestors. And I will receive my inheritance, and I will continue the traditions and customs of the old to keep the heartbeat of New Orleans beating. I'm down in the boot, living the life that feels right to me awaiting my destiny...

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