The Art Of Seduction (a love story)

He's really making me uncomfortable.

I don't know what perverted ass shit he has planned for me either.

You know when you're not at all interested in someone, but they won't stop complimenting you?

Telling you how good you look, how smart you are, how underappreciated you are?

How much they want you?

It's obvious he wants me.

I see him everywhere, staring me right in the face, trying to act like he's not watching.

Closer.

Everytime.

Sometimes in disguises, sometimes in cars,

Sometimes in the parking lot when I'm smoking at 4 AM.

Fuck it, right?

Might as well say something to the nigga, he's always around.

We must have a lot of shit in common, right?

Ha.

Turns out, he's an old friend of the family or something, I wasn't really listening.

Says he's coming back around now, he just wanted to check up on me.

You know.

Make sure I'm "OK."

I'm like, that's all well and good, but FUCK a handshake, I'm not TOUCHING dude.

He says he's hurt.

Then he says

"You always were a pussy."

I take the bait.

How could I not? I'm engaged in the conversation now.

But halfway into my first word before I would have taken my shot at him, I stop cold.

I can't even see his face, but I know he's smiling.

Not even smiling, fucking grinning ear to ear like suburban white high school kids that snuck into a gun show.

He knows how to get to me.

The fuck is this guy?

He tells me everything I want to hear.

I don't cry with laughter though, I cry until I'm just laughing at how absurd this whole shit is.

...

We're walking.

I'm cool now, genuinely smiling and enjoying myself, "high on life" as they say.

And my $1 (one dollar) county prescribed pills of course.

Reminiscing on jerk shit I did to good girls, petty things to shake my family's trust, and dirt done to people that thought I was their friend simply because I can get along with anybody if there's something in it for me.

But you see, amongst friends, these are the things you speak on anyway, and I'm comfortable with him now.

He breaks it all down to me precisely, I think.

I'm begging for it by now though, and he can sense it.

For the first time, Death looks me dead in my eyes.

But I leave him standing there, and he lets me go.

I know he gets his pleasure from the chase.