Any Way the Wind Blows - E. Lynn Harris [35]
“Bart, did you hear me?” Wylie asked. I found myself gazing into my beer and then looking around the circular wood bar at all the lonely faces.
“I’m sorry. I was just thinking,” I said.
“Why do you think you love this Basil guy?” Wylie asked.
“Let’s just say that since I met Basil the beat of my heart has increased, and it’s made me believe that love can be found in New York City,” I said.
Wylie looked at me and smiled sweetly and then motioned toward the bartender. After he ordered another round of drinks, he looked at me and said, “When you think of Basil, if your heart feels bigger, it could be love. If something else gets bigger … well, I don’t have to tell you what that is. You’ve been to the rodeo before.”
“Yeah, but this time I’m going to make sure the horse doesn’t kick me off,” I said.
The Dirty D.L.
I had just gotten home from hanging out at the Sportsline Gentleman’s Club (a strip joint that Nico and I frequent). Nico was celebrating signing a new client, and I went to have a few drinks with him.
After a couple of private lap dances I felt like I needed a shower, so I came home and washed and scrubbed myself like I had spent the evening in a sewage tank. Either I was getting too old for this shit or I had too much on my mind. Maybe in the past I’d enjoyed strippers because they didn’t require an emotional attachment.
When I got out of the shower, I wrapped a towel around my waist and rubbed some lotion on my chest. I pulled a beer out of the fridge and went into my study to check my e-mail. Another message from SWALZ: Hey Sexyman, So you’re going to ignore me? That’s okay. Just wanted to give you a look at your profile on brothersontheDL.com. I think I hit it right on the head (pun intended): John Basil Henderson—Look for this heartbreaker anywhere around the country, but most likely in New York, Chicago, Miami and Atlanta. Tall (around 6′2″) and still in the prime shape he was in while playing professional football. He’s in his mid-thirties, though he could still pass for twenty-nine. Basil has mesmerizing cat-gray eyes, golden honey-brown skin. He is a card-carrying member of the PBP (pretty-boy pack), so his buddies, although hopelessly hetero, will be good-looking as well. Mr. Henderson is a great dresser, and a “baller” from the letter B. Likes women of all colors, though he tends to date the model-actress-airhead type. You won’t catch him looking at men in public, because he’s much too smart for that. Don’t look for him in gay bars, parks or bathhouses, either. Basil has such a chameleon-like quality that he doesn’t slip with hints of being a switch hitter. His oral skills are said to be among the best, but don’t be fooled. You don’t know where that tongue has been. If anyone has additional information, contact us on the DL.
This shit was getting serious. Who was harassing me? I immediately typed in “brothersontheDL.com” and was deeply relieved to see “Site Not Found” flash across my screen.
Annie Get Your Switchblade
I was at the Scissors New York Salon and hating the fact that I didn’t make enough money to have a hairdresser come to my home. Scissors was so popular for Broadway people and the like that it was always difficult to get an appointment, and sometimes the process of beautifying moved at a snail’s pace. But it was well worth the wait once I got out of the chair and my mane would once again bounce and behave like the white girls’ on TV.
I hated being under the dryer, because it prevented me from being in full eavesdrop mode. I loved hearing people talk about the business: What was happening behind the scenes. What shows were opening and closing. Who had a record deal or a workshop, who was doing who, and who was headed back home in defeat.
Since I knew I’d be tied up in the shop for a while, I brought along a book everyone was talking about, The B.A.P. Handbook. I was having a good old time reading about how we Black American