Like many of my days of late. I had a date and only the approaching hour served as motivation to dress before she arrived. Even that didn’t take lon..., a quick change of tops and footwear, a splash of perfume, and I was ready. Oh the perfume… how my hand paused as I reached across my dresser. One bottle calls me, but I pass by it. No, I avoid it. Not because I don’t like it, its my favorite, but it was intended for someone else, it may go to waste, but no matter. I can rarely bring myself to. It was about as impersonal as it could get, almost like it would be to really whore herself out. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t even ask your name. Please forgive me.’ She was uncomfortable with how he was treating her. The expected social expectations weren’t here. This white man was politely treating her as an equal, something she never expected in her life. But, then, she never had much to do with white men, anyway. All she ever heard is that they were the devil’s own and just wanted colored women as. More

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