Brief Encounters

Chapter#2-Pinto or Kidney

I've been frigid for two years.

For 104 weeks, my vagina has been in complete hibernation mode; not reacting to a single kiss from the most lustful of men, staying dry in the most heated of second base encounters, and refusing to respond to my own fingers and imagination-- leaving me to assume that I was done with sex for good. That all the horoscopes, birth charts, and astrology books were right in labeling Virgo arguably the most difficult sign to date in the zodiac (Not as friends though, we're fantastic supporting characters).

My vagina had made the decision for me to go permanently abstinent –and part of me, was like good riddance because heaven knows she's gotten me into enough trouble. The wet panties always leads to broken hearts anyway, the good sex never becomes a great relationship, and Aunt Flo is bound to play hide and seek when it's time for her to show up for work. This time; my heart, mind, and body had a meeting that neither told me about:  this recent relationship left me a little more broken then the others, extending my usual self repair process. Somewhere down the line, my body decided that this repair was the last repair , staying stagnate against physical and mental stimulation from the opposite sex.(Or the same sex, and those in between, God ).

And then I saw him.

It wasn't like the movies where the camera zooms in and everything becomes slow motion, -- like the universe is giving you a minute to get the best first impression of your soulmate-- but more like that feeling you get in the pit of your stomach. Standing in the midst of Arizona's generous golden hour, blunt in hand, the shroom tea that you drunk earlier swirling in your abdomen making its way to your toes and fingertips. The kind of feeling that makes your skin feels like the sunshine itself from the inside out, and to move would break the spell, and to answer your friends distant voices would bring you back to reality, so you're stuck in this feeling of serotonin and sunshine that only allows you to look up, smile; and breathe.

Later, I'll tell him I felt him before I saw him. That his presence reached out to me before our eyes ever met, and maybe mines reached towards him as well, because why else would he lock eyes with me, standing in separate lines in a Target of all places?, Why else start making a beeline towards me, like fate whispered into his ear "Yeah that jawn right there"? Before standing in front of me suddenly, looking down on me curiously, smile hanging from one of the prettiest mouths I've ever seen on a guy, full and wide like he was daring me to kiss him.

"Pinto or kidney?"

I stare up at him dumbfounded. Partly, because looking up to guys is still very much a new thing for me and partly because there's no way to answer a question like that without another probing question.

"What?"

"Pinto...or kidney?" He asks again, slower this time, motioning towards the two cans of beans that he held in his baseball mitts of hands, twirling them to show me the labels. That smile still hanging on his lips, curiosity still lingering in his eyes.

"What are you making?" I ask, trying to feign interest in his question, and not in the sudden kick start to my heart.

He shrugged, a movement that brought my attention to his broad shoulders, definitely a former football player, no doubt. Asphalt colored skin, mahogany eyes, and a wisp of a dimple in his left cheek; it was clear that either my sexual frustration had somehow manifested itself into an actual being and I was drastically hallucinating or the universe herself had taken pity on my eternal dicklessness and decided to throw me a bone.
Pun, unintended.

"I haven't decided yet," he answered. "What would you suggest?"

"If it's for a comfort meal, like beans and rice or for a taco night, I personally would do pinto, but if you're making something soupy, or chili even then I would do kidney."

He nods, and turn his attention to the two cans again, seeming to consider the options that I gave. After a couple of seconds he looks at me, before casually leaning over and looking into my cart, before pointing out,
"You don't have either in your cart."

"Yeah its Friday, more of a pop something in the oven, kind of night for me," I laugh nervously, waving my hands over the plant based junk food that I had thrown in my cart, hoping that he wouldn't notice that almost everything could count for a pop in the oven kind of night.
He nodded, again before smiling brilliantly.

"I'll be honest I saw you in line and came to talk to you not about beans, but because I can't help thinking that we would look good together. Is it ok if I give you my number and you can decide on whether or not you want to call me?"

I nod stupidly, my heart in my throat preventing any eligible sound to escape. I step back to allow people to get in front of me in line, as I pull out my phone and type in his number. When it comes time to add a contact name, I take a breath and dive right back into those mahogany pools, hovering my thumb over the keyboard expectantly.
He does not disappoints, and instead of answering me right away, he holds out his hand for me to shake.

"Abeo."

I place my hand in his and marvel how easily his encloses mine, giving it a tight squeeze, holding his gaze and choke my name out.

"Kanzi."

"Kanzi." That beautiful mouth of his parts again, taking its time as his tongue rolls over the two syllables, and his grip tightens on mine. Not enough to hurt, just enough to get my attention, and I see that the curiosity is no longer in his eyes, now replaced with something more stern, more tangible, more...sexy.
"Beautiful."
He says like it's a fact, And I'm drowning in his mahogany pools again, my heart beating so loud in my chest I can hear it in my ears, and I feel my neck and cheeks get hot. I nod, and I hope he knows that it's a thank you, not an act of vanity. I snatch my hand from his, grabbing my cart, wheeling it towards self-check out. Scanning my own stuff is much better than this constant gasping for air, and although I feel him watching me as I leave, I do not turn around. I just breezily walk up to the next scanning station, so I can focus on something other than the tingling on my hand where he gripped it. It isn't until I'm outside in my car, that I'm able to breathe again, sparking my blunt before pulling out of Targets parking lot. Stopping at a red light, I remove my suddenly soaked panties, using them to wipe off excess moisture between my inner thighs before shoving them into my backpack on the passenger seat.
The light turns green, and I ash my blunt out the window before driving off, chastising myself silently for being such a horn ball.
Stupid fuckin beans.