Prohibited (bwwm)

11

*

We arrived at a small unpopular Harlem hotel owned by blacks. As we walked in we had weird stares. Pierre dropped his luggage at the entrance.

"Bring it Mae," He demanded even though the valet was going to do it.

"Pierre , the man should do it-" I tried to protest it but he cut me off.

"You need the muscle though" he replied as he took a 'Gar out of his pocket and lit it.

I groaned and struggle with the bags as we finally entered. You'd think even after what happened earlier he'd have some type of sympathy for me. I suppose not.

"Look a negro flapper. I bet I could've done better than her if i was a flapper. Too be quite honest shes' not even attractive", A black women said loudly from the lounge as we walked by.
Her friend clicked her tongue as she put her ciggy out. I looked away quickly because I dont want to make much contact. Especially, not with these folks. If I ever saw them on the streets I'll be all the talk, I'm sure.

I struggled with the luggage as Pierre walked freely. As he talked to the man at the counter i looked around and saw more stares.

Pierre turned around and showed me his keys to the apartment. We took a elevator to the top room and we enter the suite.

"lay the bags there", pierre pointed at the closet. He sat on the bed and took out a bottle of wine he managed to sneak in and a small plastic baggy with some type of baggie smaller than the palm of his hand.

I laid the luggage down and sat next to him , he glared at me.

"What?"

" I feel bad for you," he said as he undid the small baggy which contained a dark green leaves.

"Why? Why do you feel bad for me?"

"You're a negroe" He replied simply, "You'll never have much opportunities as me , and you'll probably work as a maid the rest of your life. You'll get married to a black man that'll probably abuse you and your children. And no one will care." He took out a Gar and put a slit in it taking out all of the tobacco and putting the herb inside it.

What the fuck is he talking about all of a sudden. "What." I couldn't even think of response because of how blunt and rude he is. "Don't try to tell me my future and don't worry about it pierre."

He glanced at me and didn't say anything, instead he got up and walk into the kitchen and grabbed two wine glasses.

"I apologize Mae, that was rude of me. Tonight, Just for tonight, i'll let you talk to me as your equal. Let's drinks and smoke."

"Pierre, I don't smoke."

"Its not a Gar, mae, its good ol' Mary", he litt it and handed to me. "Ladies first."

"Do I.... Do I do it??"

"Yea, Yea." he replied as he poured two glasses of wine.

I inhaled the Gar, and my chest suddenly began to burn and soon I started cough up my lungs. I felt like I was going to die.

Pierre began to laugh and took the gar away from me. "lightweight."

"I'm going to the bathroom, I'll be back." After using the bathroom and washing my hands I looked at myself, I don't feel right, My hands feel like gloves , almost like i couldn't feel them , and my nerves felt tingly. Is Pierre tying to kill? Am I dying right now? I ran out the bathroom and straight towards Pierre he was still sitting on the bed with his glass of wine.

"YOU'RE KILLING ME!" I yelled.

Pierre stared me, "What the hell are you talking about Mae."

"YOU TOLD ME IT WAS A GAR PIERRE, GARS DON'T DO THIS!"