Blackhumouristpress's Blog

May 4, 2010

Detroit’s Sexiest Cop

Kate saw a poster of Kwame Kilpatrick, looking down with a stern face, pointing his index finger at anyone looking at him with the words, “Detroit Wants You”.  At the time Kate was working with inner city kids in an after school program where she supervised playing and doing homework until it was absolutely necessary for the children to go home.  Kate was the epitome of whiteness with her reddish blond hair and freckles.  She stood out among the African-American children who were part of the after school program.

            Kate had gone to Oakland University in Rochester, Michigan and had a bachelor’s degree in Art.  Kate loved art and had done a semester in Paris so that she could study the old churches throughout France.  Kate found it nearly impossible to find a job as an art teacher anywhere in the metro Detroit area and so resorted to substitute teaching and running an after school program to make ends meet.

            Around the age of twenty one, Kate had married and had a son.  The marriage didn’t last and the father took off never to be seen again.  Kate raised her son Jim alone.  Jim wore sagging stove pipe jeans and skate boarding shoes.  He usually wore several different t shirts related to skateboarding, his hair was long, and he made homemade tattoos and watched a lot of Jackass on MTV when he wasn’t out near the parking garage of their downtown Detroit condominium doing the same tricks over and over on his skateboard. 

            Kate was distraught over her under employment, her teenaged son who hated the world and the void of a man in her life.  She looked at a picture of the mayor of Detroit and said to her, “Fuck it…  I’ll be a cop”.

            Within eighteen months, Kate had become a police officer for the Detroit Police.  Her son told her that he hated cops but didn’t hate her so much.  This was while she tried to show off her smart new uniform to him while he played X-Box and ate a Little Caesar’s pizza.

            Kate had talked to a few girlfriends that were doing internet dating and so she decided to give it a try.  The first half dozen dates were a total flop.  The men were either intimidated by the fact that Kate was a police officer or they were drawn to her only for that reason.  Two stated on the first and only dates, that they wanted to be handcuffed.

            “So um…  Do you have your cuffs with you?”

            “Um…  Do you have your computer with you?”

            Kate became despondent over her prospects but then received a nice message from a fitness instructor from Farmington Hills.  The man, who was thirty five years of age, was in shape and youthful looking.  Tom sent thoughtful messages and asked appropriate questions and had offered to take Kate out to dinner in Greektown and then to a Red Wings playoff game.  It sounded like a great first date for Kate.

            The day of the date, Kate was nervous and preoccupied.  She had detail near Comerica Park where the Detroit Tigers played.  There happened to be an afternoon game and Kate was sent to keep an eye on traffic near the ball park.  People filed in and out uneventfully for the most part.  It was in the middle of the fifth inning that Kate noticed a man pissing on the east side of the Detroit Opera House.

            Kate was sitting in her squad car listening to the Tigers game on the radio when she noticed a man with a Tigers jersey on, running towards the opera house.  In bright sun shine of an afternoon game, a man facing the wall with VERLANDER across his back, pissed for a good two minutes.  Once finished, Kate was standing nearby to make the arrest.

            “With all the shit that goes on in this town, you’re arresting me for pissing?”

            “Sir, if everyone pissed on the opera house, what would that building smell like?  Huh?  Better yet, why don’t I invite everyone from the opera house to come and piss on your house?  Would you like that?”

            “Come on, ma’am…  Cut me some slack.  I never even had a parking ticket before.  I been taking Dianetics for some health stuff and I can’t hold it and there was a million guys waiting in line by the bleachers and so I had to make a snap decision.  It’s my fault.  I met the boys for a few before the game at Chelios’ place and then they kept buying at the park and well with the pills to flush my kidneys, there was no way to hold it.”

            “Did you say Dianetics?”

            The pleading fell on deaf ears.  Kate took the culprit in and he was charged with drunk and disorderly.  After filling out the paper work, Kate went home to get ready for her date.  At first she put on a skirt with a tight blouse that showed her tight stomach and perky boobs and then she changed into a pair of jeans and a loose long sleeved top.  She then put on two dresses and tried to decide if she would wear her hair down or up or use a clip to keep the bangs up.  There was a lot of agony as she readied herself for the date.  Her son blasted songs from the Insane Clown Posse in the next room.

            “Jimbo… can you turn that down.  It’s so loud…”

            “Fuck wine coolers, fuck chickens, fuck ducks, everybody in your crew sucks…”

            Kate tried to curl her hair at the tips slightly and felt that it was looking a little to Mary Tyler Moore and it was getting too late to straighten it.  The fowl language and audio level of the song being blasted from Jim’s room was beginning to compound Kate’s frustration.

            “Turn that shit down or I will fucking break it… Do you hear me?”

            “Fuck your mom, fuck your mom’s momma…  Fuck the Beastie Boys and the Dalai Lama…”

            Kate came into the bedroom and ripped the electrical cord from the wall.  Jim had been laying in bed zoning out after sniffing a rag full of turpentine with some of his skate boarding buddies near Hart Plaza.  Jim had his eyes closed and was picturing himself telling everyone in his life to go fuck themselves as he listened to the song, Fuck the World.

            “I swear I will send you to a military school if you don’t show me some respect very soon, little man.  I’ve about had it with your sulking, angry attitude.  What the hell do you have to be so upset about?  I’m out busting my ass to provide a place for you and all I get is grief.  Keep it up and see what I do.  You’ll have some sadistic former drill instructor with his foot so far up your ass; you’ll swear you can taste leather… Keep testing me, son.”

            And with that, Kate slammed the door.  She wore a cute pair of pumps and a tight dress that showed off her figure but did not come across as slut like.  Kate grabbed a cab and was at the restaurant in Greektown in minutes.  Kate sat on a bench in the waiting area and prayed that each man who came through the door was either her date or not.  After a few minutes, Kate was blind sided.  Her date approached from the opposite direction.  He had camped out early at the bar so that he could see her walk in first.  He walked up and smiled at Kate and extended his hand.  Kate felt that her date looked better in person than in the photo on the dating site.  Kate kept looking at the man who looked so familiar to her as they dipped their French bread in olive oil and waited for their wine.  Kate’s hair was down and she wore make up and lip stick and looked very much like a lady than a female cop.  Kate listened to the man speak and studied his face until it all came together for her.  She posed a question while they toasted their glasses of Greek red wine.

            “So how do you feel about the opera, Mr. Verlander?”

October 10, 2009

Women in Bars

Filed under: Short Story — blackhumouristpress @ 4:02 pm
Tags: , , , , , , ,

Sarah and Angela made plans for two Fridays in a row to leave their homes in Grosse Pointe to have a drink in Hamtramck which is a little island of a town encompassed by the city of Detroit. After a few cancellations, they met at Small’s. In the main room was a noisy garage band. Sarah and Angela found a table under a television where Fox Detroit was agonizing over the unravelling of the Tigers in the last days of the 2009 baseball season. Neither of them was interested in that nor anything else going on in crowed bar that cool autumn night. Catching up was all that they really hoped to do.

Sarah was the mother of four children and was married to a second generation Greek man who owned his own garage. Demetrius inherited his father’s garage that was started back in 1959. Demetrius made a good buck and lived a fairly simple life.

Angela was the mother of two children, one of which played ice hockey on a team with Sarah’s son. Angela and Sarah became friends immediately and carpooled to hockey games and practices and eventually became each other’s confidant.

Sarah ordered a Long Island Ice Tea and Angela had a Corona Light. A young fat man with mutton side burns, many tattoos and a backwards Lions hat on, put ten dollars in the juke box and played every Ramones tune available. Sarah blinked hard and shook her head.

“Have you figured out when boys become men? This little cherub probably still lives at home and plays drinking games in his parent’s basement in between X Box tournaments with his equally unmotivated friends who are living at home with their parents,” stated Angela, while leaning her chin on the palm of her right hand.

“Um my loving husband is sitting right now in my living room with his brother and cousins, watching a Red Wings game on a seventy two inch television. Four fat Greeks wearing Chelios jerseys, eating wings and drinking beer. I could walk naked in front of all of them and they’d never notice. His fucking brother is such a goddamn pig too. He makes that sound when you’re sucking snot up from somewhere in your throat. It is so damn gross and then he swallows it.” Said Sarah.

“I hate it when his parents come over and the wives of his cousins and brother. Everyone is Greek and they all speak Greek and I’m just running around making coffee for the old people who are ripping on me in Greek because I’m not Greek. Thank god I’m not Greek. Something happens when those Greek chicks have kids. Their hips expand and they grow moustaches. I shit you not. Even the good looking ones get fat asses and facial hair. When I first met his parents they assumed I was Greek and then they wanted assurances from me that the kids would go to Greek school on weekends to learn to read and write in Greek. My Greek god turned into just a fucking Greek. Him and his cousins, brothers, their wives, his parents and their Hellenic hip disease… Honest to Christ almighty. I’m immersed in the fucking white sauce of life.” Said Sarah, while Angela laughed uncontrollably.

Sarah was short with brown hair and carried a few extra pounds. Sarah’s inspiration unbeknownst to her was Angela. Angela had her last child a few years back and began to work out religiously. Angela’s husband had told her that he could not get aroused since she had become more matronly than he had anticipated. Angela signed up for spin classes, Pilates and swam. Everyday she tried to get in between a half hour to an hour of exercise. Within six months, Angela had lost forty five pounds and looked and felt better than she had in years. Angela’s husband still criticized her one too many times. Angela had found more than exercise to occupy her time.

“I have something I have to get off my chest,” said Angela after taking a swig of her beer. “I’m seeing a Polish poet who works during the day as a plumber”.

Sarah laughed as though Angela had told a joke. Angela wasn’t laughing. Sarah reached across the table and grabbed Angela’s forearm.

“I want to hear about this and don’t leave a fucking detail out,” said Sarah.

“I told Tom for weeks to fix the P trap under the sink in the kitchen. I thought he had done it and I open the cabinet to get cleaning solution to clean up a spot where the cat has taken to pissing over and over and the cabinet had fallen apart totally. I could see the foundation through a hole where there used to be wood. I was so pissed. I go into the den and he was looking at porn or something on the internet. As soon as he heard my feet stomping towards him on the hardwood floor, he turns off the monitor… So fucking childish… Anyway I ask him why he never took care of it. He shrugs like my other kids and says he forgot. I was so mad that I went to the hardware store to get the parts myself. I connect it all up and water is spraying everywhere and I’m about ready to cry. There I am under the sink with a pipe wrench and I have whining kids asking for pudding pops and Tom gets upset because he’s trying to watch football and the kids are yelling. He gives them each a granola bar and tells them to play downstairs. Mind you, I’m under the sink with black shit all over my arms and he never attempts to stop watching football which he could tape if he wanted to and help me with something that he should have done. Instead he tells me that I’m going to fuck it up and sure enough I do. Instead of crying, I put on my running shoes and took the kids to the high school track with me and they walked while I ran. I ran three miles and came home and made cookies and never gave another thought to the damn leaking pipe. Tom runs the water and it’s now spraying all over everything under the sink. He says with his smug assed smile that he knew I would fuck it up. My sister tells me to call this handy man named Marek and he comes over the next morning. This guy walks in and I just knew even before he said one word that we were going to connect. He disconnects what I put on and adds some Teflon tape and it works perfectly. Marek tells me that I did a good job except for the tape and he gets ready to leave and doesn’t charge me. I force the guy to take a fifty and I’m thinking that’s that. A week later, I’m right here in Hamtramck at Trowbridge having coffee one night and low and behold my plumber is reading poetry. He’s wearing a pair of jeans and a t shirt and nervously reads his poetry in English with his cute Polish accent. There were maybe a dozen people there and I waited until he was done and bought his book of poems and had him sign it. Well one thing leads to another and we get together and he reads my poems and I his and then one night we go to dinner and wind up back at his place for hours. I can’t tell you how many times we made love. It was love. You know when you’re fucking and when it’s actually the act of love making. Every time is so good and I can’t wait until the next time,” said Angela.

Sarah had her mouth open as if someone had poured cold water on her. Sarah asked the obvious question.

“Tom? Tom understands that I’m there but I’m gone. He can smell it on me that something has changed. He had the balls to say to me the other day that I act too good for him now that I got in shape. I told him that I’m the same person I was when my ass was too fat for him. There’s just less of me than before. Have you started running yet? Are you doing the 3K with me at Thanksgiving?” Asked Angela.

“I’ve been begging Demetrius to let me have a dog. I want a dog that will jog with me. Maybe a Doberman or something that’s built to jog. I’m up to a mile a day. It takes me twelve minutes but I’m getting better.” Said Sarah.

“So if you want a dog just go buy one,” said Angela.

“It doesn’t work that way when you’re married to a macho Greek. He says if I blow him once in a while, I can have the dog. I’m blowing him twice a week now and last week I wind up getting a cold sore and he’s so sure that he’s going to get herpes on his nut sack that he makes me give him a hand job. Can you believe it? Like junior high, honest to god. I get olive oil and am jerking his cock while ESPN is on the gigantic television. He’s just about to cum and Stavros calls for me to bring him a drink of water. Demetrius gets so pissed and then I gotta start all over again. My damn right arm was cramping and I offer to go in the shower with him since I’m on the rag and he’s horrified that I suggested a little shower sex. I told him it will be fun kinda like mixing a porno with Psycho. He could watch my blood go down the drain. Anyway he tells me to shut up because he can’t concentrate. Finally he cums and I make sure it goes straight up in the air and lands on his precious Red Wings home jersey. He jumps up and mops the come off like it was fucking ink. He thanks me and I tell him I better be getting a team of mush dogs like they have in Alaska,” said Sarah.

At that moment a young cocky guy walks up holding a beer. He had longish blond hair and wore a Fedora with ripped up jeans and a sleeveless shirt. He lifted Angela’s purse up from the stool next to her and sat down uninvited.

“What’s up, ladies?”

Sarah liked the attention but Angela did not appreciate it. The young man could not hold a blow torch to the Polish/plumber/poet and she let him know in so many words.

“Um Kid Rock… You may not have noticed that we have chosen this table away from everyone else because we wanted to be alone. We don’t want you to go away thinking that we are going to crawl out of here and into a bed with each other because we don’t play for that team. Had you been in tuned to clues, you may have noticed too the rings on both or our ring fingers which is a symbol in our society of marriage. Now marriage may not matter to you and that’s cool but we really don’t want or need the company right now. I’ll buy you a drink if you go away,” said Angela harshly.

The young man walked off and Sarah and Angela continued to share details of their day to day lives. They shared things about their children, things they wanted out of day to day life and the physical changes they hoped to make in their homes. They shared intimate details of their lives and cherished the time they set aside to check in with one another. The speed and demands of day to day life made their meetings a necessity for sanity and order. They hugged as they got to their cars and promised to meet the next Friday. The next Friday did not happen nor the Friday after that. It would be a little more than a month before their next opportunity to connect. You can be sure that they’ll both have something they’ll want to discuss. They always do.

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