Page 5 of Tell Me I'm Not Dreaming
“You need to leave,” Roc says.
“Yeah, alright man. I was just leaving.” Zombie man rushes away.
These niggas are so predictable it’s sad. They have all the smoke for a group of women but run away like a scaredy cat when men show up.
“Thank you, gentlemen,” Lyric says.
They each nod and walk away. At least Roc and Pete are discreet cause even she didn’t see their gigantic asses until they were only a few feet away from them.
“You okay, L?” Suchi puts her arm around Lyric’s shoulder.
Lyric touches Suchi’s hand and smiles. “I’m good, Sooch. Let’s go eat.”
The ladies are having themselves a time as they devour some of the best seafood they have ever had while listening to the live band.
Bridget picks up her plate and says, “Ric, trade me plates. I want to try your catfish.”
“Good, ’cause I want to try your fried alligator.” Lyric switches plates with Bridget.
“You all are way more adventurous than me when it comes to your food,” Aimee remarks.
The band plays a haunting rendition of Miles Davis’s “Bitches Brew.”
“The bass player is amazing,” Suchi comments.
“Honestly, this composition has always felt like such a mash up of sounds, I could never really hear one instrument above the rest,” Aimee says.
“Suchi’s got those classically trained ears,” Bridget teases, and Suchi smiles.
“What’s next on the list, kids?” Lyric asks.
“Tomorrow Bridget and I are visiting the plantations we mentioned,” Aimee answers.
“Your speech about respecting the ancestors did it for me, Aims. I’ll go with you,” Suchi says.
“What the hell. Me, too.” Lyric adds.
“Thank you. You ladies are in for an intense and humbling experience,” Aimee tells them.
“That’s an understatement,” Bridget says.
“Okay, thanks for the warning,” Suchi replies.
“I’m sorry,but does this tour have to be so sad?”
It’s late in the afternoon, heading into the evening. This turned out to be a day of reflection and tongue holding. They ended up visiting three plantations after Aimee and Bridget found out about a haunted one and insisted they go. Honestly if it weren’t for these dense ass white folks, Lyric would be a lot calmer.
She turns around and stares at the white lady like she’s on something stronger than meth, crack and heroin combined. Because that’s the only way this bitch is asking something so out of pocket on a plantation tour.
The tour guide, a sister, looks at Lyric like, “Sis, did you hear what this heifer just said?”
Suchi looks at the ground, shaking her head while Bridget and Aimee look at each other and smirk, knowing what’s coming.
The tour guide can’t say anything, but Lyric can. “You’re taking a tour of a plantation. A place where enslaved people were brutalized for centuries, were you expecting Disneyland?”
“No, but I wasn’t expecting to be made to feel bad, either.” The white lady snaps. “My ancestors didn’t own slaves.”
“Then why do you feel guilty?” Bridget adds.
