An hour after returning home from Washington, Shannie and I were on our way to Atlantic City. Two hours later, as the sun set over the Intracoastal Waterway, I stood behind Shannie admiring her butt as she knocked on Genise Gray's apartment door.
"Maybe she's not home." I looked over each shoulder. Across the narrow street a woman, a white woman, walked a dog. Besides Shannie and myself, she was the only other white person I noticed.
"She's got to be. She said she would." Shannie knocked harder.
"If she ain't home, she ain't home. Let's get out of here."
"Give up this easy? Are you out of your mind?"
I wasn't out of my mind, I was out of my element. I didn't like being a minority. We were in a desegregationist's wet dream, every known ethnic group lived in the section of Atlantic City we'd come to know as Lower Chelsea.
"Baxter that best not be you. I told you to stay the fuck away, unless you have my fucking money! You don't have my money I'm done with yo smelly ass."
"It's Shannie Ortolan," "Who?" The cagey voice asked.
"Shannie, Shannie Ortolan. I'm looking for Genise Gray. I talked with her on the phone earlier."
"Oh, you the one." The catch on the lock slid open. The heavy wooden door opened. I had an idea what the owner of the vexing voice looked like, and when the voice stepped from behind the door, I was reminded how wrong I could be. A short athletic beauty with smooth olive skin and shoulder length raven hair stood before us. Her eyes dark coals that charred anything they touched. My jaw dropped. "I didn't know what to expect, I just didn't expect exotic," Shannie said later.
"Yeah?" Genise asked. - oblivious why two white people stood speechless.
"Ah, Yeah. Hi, I'm Shannie, you must be Genise."
"That I am."
"This is James," Shannie nodded towards me. I immediately got off on the wrong foot. Genise busted me studying her low-cut top.
"Um, Hi," I grinned. I extended my hand.
"Listen, I have pigs leering at me all day, I don't need that shit now."
"Sorry," I mumbled.
"Bullshit, you loved every second of it. Don't say you're sorry." Genise pointed her chin at me.
"Ah, Sorry."
"You thick or something? I told you not to say you're sorry when it obvious you ain't sorry. Damn men are all the same. You're just like those drunken assholes I deal with day and night. If they ain't grabbing, they're staring."