Excerpt from "My Life Sucked..." by A. Dacosta Brathway

While I was in high school, I suffered through the normal adolescent trama that male teenagers go through. Only the difference between me and a normal male teenager is I'm willing to expose myself to the public, in my blog, while they crawled into the closet and built a cozy nest under their shirts and between their sneakers./ I started to take a liking to girls and there was one girl, in particular, that I was developing strong feelings for. Her name was Barbara (not really her name) and she was smoking hot! She was tall and had a shape that could break an hour glass. She was in a couple of my classes and my sense of humor was good enough to get her attention so I used it to my advantage. We would talk after class and it got to the point where we would walk to the bus stop together. (Later on I found out that she walked with me because I would shield her from the bottles that were thrown during the race riots!) We became close enough for her to ask me to visit her at her house. When I went there, I found out that Barbara was not some ordinary black chic from the 'hood. This chick's folks had some cash! I remember her father being very cool and quiet. He did not look down on me like I was invading his privacy. After he spoke to me, he disappeared to another room in the house and I never saw him again. Barbara's mother was another story. She gave me the once over all night long. Not that I thought that I would even get to first base with Barbara, her mother made sure I that I would never even get to the batter's box-that night. She pelted me with questions about me, my family, and my job status. When she determined that I did not make ENOUGH money to her liking, she told me that I had to step up my game if I wanted to even get a sniff of Barbara! Weeks turned to months before Barbara invited me back to her house. Only, this time, things had taken a turn for the better. Her parents went on a cruise! When I got there, Barbara was dressed in a slinky dress, heels, and a fur coat and matching hat. I was stunned. I remember wondering where she was going dressed like that and why she invited me over in the first place? She took me upstairs to a room where she had a pool table in it... Nothing else. She took off her coat and hat, laid across that pool table, spread her legs, then asked if I could put the black balls in the corner pocket? Hey, just call me "Minnesota Fats!" After some struggle, I got my pants down, pulled out my pool stick... And then it happened... I, prematurely, shot, and missed the pocket! Needless to say, I was never invited to shoot pool with Barbara again! Stay tuned...