Comfort of My Man

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Comfort of My Man

I tell these stories primarily because I can’t believe that they’re happening to me. It’s like a scene out of a mushy love story and … when have I had THAT? (well… before my Earl?)

Last night I did it again. I made myself crazy with work. I planned to stay late into the reaches of the night because I have enough work for… i dunno… a whole department? Anyway… at some point during the night it dawns on me that leaving late now puts me in the same position I was the other day when homeboy decided he wanted to follow me into my building. I mean… the chances of that happening again may be slim but who knows? Some folks are just unscrupulous. Anyway… the idea of having to combat that again on my own made me sad — but I had already sent my brother home and my baby had itenerary of things to do. I was going to have to suck it up and deal. My baby called me around 7 to let me know that he was getting out of the gym and “how late are you staying there?” I sighed and said, as long as it takes. Quickly changing the subject, I asked him if he was heading home now. He said yes. For a quick second I had a pang like… okay… so everyone is home safe. That’s nice. Some extra feelings from the other night carried over where I felt like, maybe I’m the only one that was really concerned. And maybe that statements all wrong. I think I just felt like my baby… of all people… my protector… my knight in shining armor… was a little less concerned than I would like for him to be. Oh well… no matter. Suck it up, I said to myself… So I hastened off the phone with him to get back to my work.

I’m workin away listening to the sounds of one of the jocks voices that absolutely hate. But this is my charge – to prepare his show for streaming on line. And I’d been lacksidasical for a minute with it. So it was time to play catchup. I looked up from my keyboard about 9:30 and sighed. I contemplated sleeping there. Because… a) I’d get all the way caught up and b) I was really afraid to go home alone. As I was coming to the realization that I’d have to stay there, I get a phone call — it’s my baby’s number. Probably calling to tell me he’s home safe. That’s good.

Me: Hey baby.
Him: I just wanted to let you know that whenever you’re finished with your work, I’m waiting for you downstairs in the car.
Me: (mouth agape)
Him: Babe?
Me: (mouth agape)
Him: Sweetie? Are you there?
Me: *stuttering* You’re downstairs from here?
Him: Yes baby. I’m in front of your work building. So take your time and I’ll be here waiting.
Me: (mouth agape)

Here he came to save the day!!!! I offered him to come upstairs and sit with me instead of sitting in the car (I’d go stir crazy). He said it was probably fine. He’d listen to the game on the radio and read his newspaper. I thanked him profusely and hung up to finish up my work. I didn’t want to leave him waiting too long. About 20 minutes later I got another phone call, “I’m in your hallway.” I ran (literally) to fetch him from the hall. And there he was, standing with a a small bag from the deli. “I thought you might be hungry.”

*sigh* I won’t even bother to tell the rest in detail. Know that for the rest of the night his name was Superman. My hero who stood 10 feet tall who swept in and saved me from thinking he cared less than I thought he should.

I must have done something right… Thank you God.



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