That Grin

Thanks to Facebook, we now have unheard of access to other people's lives, to stalk and be stalked. In less than thirty seconds, you can find someone.  Or in a surprise moment, their picture can pop up in the right hand corner as a "suggestion" or a "request."  And there it is.

Well over 7 years passed. Not one word, not a text, not an email. And it's better that way, for everyone. 

Oh, he was a bad boy.  Brown skin and a grin that just called for trouble. And a body to match.  Pursued by women, flirted with by me.  And all of a sudden, I had him.  Oh no, not for good. I had him, no more than any of the many women had him.  Occasionally.  On his terms.  And his times. 

One minute we were the best of pals.  The next, the best of pals, but with benefits.  And we both liked it that way. No strings, and I knew better than any of his girlfriends that his time was fleeting.  But oh, what a fun time to be had!  The bars, the beers, the late nights down the street at this hang out or that dive.  The calls to meet him and his girlfriend here or there, or to come to his fiance's house for a cook out. We would hang out for a week as the best of pals.  And then the fun time, completely out of the blue.  And that was fine with me. 

And there was his picture.  I admit, I clicked on the album.  I looked at the picture of his wife.  Noticed a tattoo that I did not know, and I knew every tattoo.  And about 5 minutes later, after I'd looked at every picture and gleaned what I could of his life, I scrolled the cursor to the far right and hit "block."