A summer Friday night. A Downtown Orlando bar. Won’t say the name of place because I might incriminate myself.
In the front right corner of the bar, a DJ plays a mixture of 80s and 90s music. Some songs are remixed. Most of the music is hip hop.
The place is packed. All of the bar stools at the counter have been taken. All of the bar tables are occupied. Because of that, I am standing and watching the crowd.
Among the mostly white crowd, I am one of few African-Americans present. A few Hispanics and Asians are present too. So, are a few other ethnic groups I fail to identify. Yet, the crowd is definitely predominately white.
I see her standing at the bar counter. She’s a brunette wearing a blue t-shirt and white shorts. Her back is facing me. I can’t stop looking at her booty, a round and big posterior suggesting an African might be in her family tree.
She’s talking with a friend, a blonde.
As I continue staring at the brunette’s booty, the sickness overcomes me. I attempt fighting it. I even clench my fists hoping the sickness remains inside.
Yet, the sickness wins.
I slowly walk behind the brunette. Suddenly, her blonde friend sees me approaching, looks me in the eyes.
My right hand reaches out and squeezes a handful of the brunette’s booty. The soft behind places me in Booty Heaven.
“Hey!” the brunette yelled.
I start running.
“That guy groped me.”
I continue running.
“That black guy! He groped me!”
Before I am caught, I am already out of the door.
Saturday night. This time a Downtown Orlando nightclub. As usual, I won’t name the place because I might incriminate myself.
Hip hop music plays among the predominately African-American crowd.
Because of the hip hop crowd, I am expecting to get my ass kicked tonight. This adds more thrill, squeezing the booty of a dude’s woman. Then, expecting dude wanting to kick my ass.
Soon, I spot the perfect couple standing by the dance floor. The chocolate beauty wears a tight red dress. Long straight hair touches her shoulders. Dude wears a black short-sleeved shirt and black slacks. A gold necklace circles around his neck.
Slowly, I walk behind the girlfriend. I look at her booty. It is big and round just like I guessed. Actually, her posterior pleases the eye more than the brunette’s from last night.
Adrenaline energizes me. My heart pumps faster and faster.
I walk towards the girlfriend and squeeze. Again, a soft posterior lands me in Booty Heaven.
“What in the world?” the girlfriend says.
The boyfriend looks at me.
I take off.
I hear the girlfriend saying, “That nigga squeezed my booty!”
Then, I hear the boyfriend say, “Say what?! I’m gone kick that muthafucka’s ass!”
Yet, he never catches me. I make my escape through the exit.
Sunday night. Another Downtown Orlando nightclub. Latin night. Again, I won’t the name the place.
I don’t know much Spanish. I failed that class in high school.
My mind drifts back to my younger years. Alone in my bedroom watching HBO. Anaconda starring Jennifer Lopez and Ice Cube was playing. Fell in love with the beautiful Jennifer Lopez ever since.
Collected every magazine with Jennifer Lopez on the cover. Saw every movie starring her, even the ones that sucked. Even bought her albums.
Yet, I never could never stop thinking about that juicy Latina booty. Became obsessed with it. Kept thinking impure thoughts. Wouldn’t have mind being her next husband. After seeing her succession of husbands, I didn’t mind being husband number six.
I spot my target conversing with other Latinas. They’re standing at the edge of the dance floor.
My target owns brown hair and a big ass. She doesn’t necessarily look like Jennifer Lopez. Yet, she’ll do.
Then, I see a big guy walking up to her, a dude wearing braids. They start holding hands.
Still, I walk over to the woman.
Dude sees me approaching and smiles.
“What’s up, bro?” he says.
I reach out and squeeze my target’s booty. Again, the softness places me back into Booty Heaven.
My target yells something in Spanish.
Wearing shocked faces, all of her girlfriends are staying at me.
Then, the boyfriend yells, “I’m gonna kick your ass, nigga.”
Yet, the boyfriend catches me. He places me in a choke-hold and begins pounding me in the face.
Now, a crowd is watching.
Security rushes over and break us up.
Blood drips from noise.
“That nigga grabbed my girl’s ass,” the boyfriend says.
I never liked Hispanics saying the n-word. Didn’t like it when Jennifer Lopez said it in a song. I’m only comfortable with African-Americans saying the n-word to each other.
“He grabbed my girl’s ass. I’m gone kill you, nigga!”
Security holds the boyfriend back.
Both of us are kicked out of the club.
Yet, before the boyfriend catches me again, I run off.
I failed to mention I am unemployed.
I am now sitting alone in an office awaiting a job interview.
A Latin woman wearing glasses enter.
She looks at me. Her face scowls into anger.
“I know you,” she says. “You’re the guy who squeezed my butt.”
Oh shit, because she’s wearing glasses, I didn’t recognize “Jennifer Lopez” from the nightclub.
I guess I’m not getting hired.