Confessions of a Marriage Robin Hood . . . Part Two

After he sent me the instructions for how to get into the hotel room and everything, I headed to a wig store and purchased a long black hair piece to cover my auburn afro. I was tempted to get some of those cosmetic contact lenses, but I wasn’t ready to put my eyes in danger for something that might not work. Still, when I'd looked at my checking and savings accounts and saw that I had about enough money to make it through the month, I knew I had to make this scheme work. 
Now, I like to think of myself as a shapely woman. I have hips and strong thighs. But my booty. Well, let's just say Bootylicious is not my theme song. And there was no way I could fool Wendell without help. So that's why I called Beth. Let me be clear, Beth had nothing to do with anything I did. All she did was help create my ass. Let me explain, Beth is a costume designer. She's worked on Broadway but when her mother got sick, she moved back to Charlotte to help out. She is innocent. 
I lied to her. Told her that I was going to audition for a role in a play that a new Queen City acting troupe was developing. So, she made butt pads and as me to get her a job on the wardrobe crew. And of course, I told her that I would. When I put on the pads, my spandex cat suit and the wig, I barely recognized myself. 
This was going to be epic. Heading to the hotel, I had a camera, a ball gag and blindfolds. My plan was simple -- get Mr. Family Values in pictures that he'd pay handsomely to make sure they didn't end up on the Internet. And maybe he'd be smart enough to take his profile off that website. After all, today was going to be a cautionary tale. 
      The keys were at the front desk as he promised. The desk clerk didn't even give me a second look when she handed me the envelope. I guess this was second nature to her. It made me wonder how many men in Charlotte were actually cheating on their wives in this hotel right now. 
     Let me be real clear right now,I love love. I believe when people take vows it should be forever. But. . .if you're stupid enough to log on to a website to have an affair then I think you get what you deserve. Someone like me.

   I walked into the room and there was soft jazz, more specifically Kenny G, playing in the background. Really? Kenny. Damn. G! You'd think a man with an ass fetish would've had some 2 Live Crew or Lil Kim going on. 
    "Hello." I added a husky timbre to my voice. My camera was in my hand and when Wendell walked out of the bathroom -- naked and holding a jar of Vaseline -- I couldn't have been happier. 
    "What the hell are you doing?" he growled.
     "I bet your wife will ask the same thing when she sees these pictures. And the board at the bank. What do you think they're going to say?"
   "Who the fuck are you?" he stammered.
    "That depends on how much this memory card is worth to you. For the right price and you deleting that profile, I could be a figment of your imagination. But if you don't give me what I want, which is money, not that flabby thing under your belly, them I'm going to be your worse nightmare."
      It was that moment when I really became a criminal.


Popular posts from this blog

The case of Serena Williams and the body shaming of black women

Unapologetically Dope . . .Dr. Nicki Washington's love letter to black women in tech (and everywhere else!)