Love, Hell or Right

I got on the plane, spotted my seat and reached for the overhead compartment right above my seat. As I opened the bin, from out of nowhere a man towered over me, whining about the overhead compartment. Talking ‘bout his shit was in there. Didn’t his mother teach him to share? Man! I ignored him and he continued. “Excuse me ma’am, my bag is in there and nothing else can fit.” I turned around to see who was trying to be all up in my face and Oh my goodness! It’s Bling Bling, tall dark and fine as hell. Hold up! Get it together Ky, I almost smiled, but I remembered, he was being an ass. So I just turned away and acted like he was sweaty Paul. I attempted to get out of his way by standing in front of row three, my row, so he could sit his ass down somewhere. So he says. “Ma’am.” Clinching his jaw. “I would like to sit down.” “I apologize Sir but I’m trying to let you by.” I’m thinking to myself, Damn Bling! You’re about to give me a headache! See, these rappers are all the same, acting like they own the world. Tears raced to my eyes. Suck it up Ky. Suck it up. Take a deep breath and give him a minute. I’m just trying to get home to my man and off of my aching feet, damn! “This is my seat, 3B.” He said. “Excuse me. I didn’t know that,” I huffed, rolling my eyes. The man my best friend is crazy about has turned out to be a major ass hole. I knew it anyway. Not to mention, I have to sit next to him the whole way to Atlanta. I found a bin across from my seat and stored my bag. Now what am I gonna do? Oh well, here goes. “Excuse me, I’m in seat 3A,” I said, feeling powerful now. Bling Bling stands up to let me in. My hip touched his leg as I climbed into my seat. Just a brush against him made me shiver. Order your copy of "Love, Hell, or Right" NOW! To Purchase with checks or Money orders Please send payment to: Etta Bertha Publishing House c/o Tami Dash P.O. Box 371192 Decatur, GA 30037-1192