Erlinda Goes to Harlem

Last Friday morning, I made an appointment to visit my dentist. You gotta take care of your teeth!

I do take care of mine, so I thought I was just making a visit for a cleaning. Twenty minutes later, I was chewing a piece of Dove (c) chocolate - a simple piece of milk chocolate, nothing crunchy, kind of soft because the weather was warm. Suddenly, something wasn't quite right. In my mouth. Along the right side of my jaw. Lower jaw. I managed to crack a tooth and loose a filling in one fell swoop!

My appointment wasn't until Tuesday, and all day Saturday, Sunday and Monday, my tongue kept scraping against the jagged edge of the cracked molar that was missing a part and a filling. I was sure the side of my tongue would be calloused by the time I got to the dentist. Oddly, my tongue didn't brush against that cracked molar that was missing a part and a filling when I chewed on that side. So I made sure I chewed on things softer than chocolate - like processed American cheese, peanut butter, and Wonder Bread. Yuck.

Today, I went to the dentist. He fixed the tooth, admired his work, and let me admire it. (I have a great dentist. He is nice and very cute. Having a cute dentist dulls some of the pain of visiting the dentist. Three shots of novacaine...) They gave me a cute little kit with samples of dental things, and I left the office.

Anyway, I decided to save some money and walk to public transportation rather than take a taxi back to my office.

I walked down Lenox Avenue, and admired the kinds of scenes you just don't see on the Upper East Side of New York City. There is some gentrification going on, but a lot of the flavor of the neighborhood is intact. I passed a lingerie store; backed up, and went in to buy leggings. I passed Carol's Daughter, my favorite beauty supply store, and got some stuff for my hair. I must have been acting funny, because the store manager kept asking me if I was OK. I explained I had just visited the dentist and was full of novacaine. I didn't realize I was acting strangely. She gave me some samples of hair stuff, and body lotion. Gotta support my Peeps!

Back on the street, I bought some incense and charcoal. Nearing the bus stop, I kept looking around at Harlem. Lots of colors, lots of aromas. I waved at babies. I listened to people cuss each other out. I watched young people flirt. One man was howling at the moon - and it was just 2:30 in the afternoon. School kids were running in and out of bodegas, buying quarter water. Street vendors were selling all kinds of stuff that nobody needs to buy. I wondered if it was going to rain...

Suddenly, I noticed a man giving me the once over. He wasn't totally unattractive. He kind of looked like Keb'Mo - but he didn't look like he could sing the blues and play the guitar. ( Just LOVE Keb'Mo'. This man bore an ever so slight resemblence to Keb'Mo.) I love it when men give me the once over. It doesn't happen very much in my neighborhood. He asked if he could walk with me. I said, "No, I am going back to work!" He responded, "I don't want to take your time, but I sure want to suck your toes!"

Freak!

Now, anyone who has seen my feet would not imagine that they would objects of desire for a foot fetishist. My feet are bit on the large side. My toenails are funny looking. (There have been occasions when I have walked into a nail parlour for a pedicure, to hear the nail technician say, "Oh no!" Now, this could be the only phrase the technicians know in English, but I doubt it.) My arches don't exist, and I tend to pronate. I have had two surgeries on one foot - and while it is structurally "perfect" - it is not what I think would bring out a lustful cry from a fetishist! A normal person who looked at my feet would think two things: 1 - "Hammertime!" and 2 - "She should carry butter, salt and pepper for those corny things!" Hell - most of the time, I wear "sensible" shoes. You would see my feet on the cover of "Paws" before you would see them on "WhateverFootFetishistsStoptoRead"...

In my own defense, my feet were clean, and the "Hot Tamales" nail polish helped give the appearance of a woman who cares about her appearance. But - a foot fetishist?!?!?!

Anyway, Mr. NotKebMo kept my stride, and asked if I would wear pantyhose while he sucked my toes. I said, "I don't wear pantyhose." (I don't know why I carried on this conversation...) He said, "I'd put you in [garbled] fishnets and suck away."

At this point, I'd had enough and went angrymiddleagenewyorkblackwoman on his natural brown behind! I called him a freak, (using an adjective that begins with the letter "f") and told him to get away and leave me alone.

His response, "I don't know what crawled up your @** and bit you! I just want to suck your toes!"

I hailed a taxi.