Be Careful What You Dream. Sometimes the Ice Cream Truck Stops.
Jeremy pressed his floor and felt the slight rush of blood whoosh from his head as the carriage lifted off. He was late. The package should have been delivered ten minutes ago. His delivery company would have to refund the express fee. It would come out of his paycheck, not that it was his fault. The traffic in the city was murder at this time of day even if he did zip through the traffic on his mountain bike like a crazy man. Still, he couldn’t jump over gridlock with a bicycle, and he was sweating and exhausted from grinding through the heart of Manhattan in the sweltering heat. He checked the delivery notice one more time. He had the right building. He had the right floor. The elevator stopped. He had to wait. The Muzak groaned.
When the door opened, the woman stood there and stared at him wide-eyed, but he quickly got on top of it; he checked his watch, checked the LED floor read-out, yawned, played it cool. He had been here before. The woman got on, pushed her floor, and faced the door. Jeremy never pretended to pretend he was blind when he saw an attractive woman and would not for a minute want to be caught gawking at her, but he had to notice the shapely way she filled her business suit, her stylish hair, the way she gripped her briefcase with determination. Then he noticed, or maybe smelled, what he sensed as fear. He was sick and tired of it, and he thought of all the elevator rides in all the buildings he had ever been in and heard himself saying: Hey lady, you don’t got to be afraid of me. I’m not trying to put my hands on you or nothing.
He was surprised when the woman turned her head coolly, raised an eyebrow and asked: Why not?
He blinked. Excuse me? he said.
I said why not? she said. Why not grab a big piece of this fine ass you been looking at? You were looking, weren’t you?
Jeremy was stupefied, and to his surprise, frightened. Hey, wait a minute lady, I was just looking, I mean, admiring you, that’s all.
The woman turned and faced him. Admiring my ass is what you mean. Why don’t you just grab some?
Jeremy was going WTF. Hey, Miss, look I apologize if…
She stopped him. If what? If you were thinking about sticking that big slab of meat between your legs up my ass?
Jeremy jerked his head back like she had just slapped him in the face. Whoa, hey, look lady.
She stepped towards him. Look lady my ass, she said. Are you not one of those guys always bragging about how you got a dick as long as my arm and you can make a bitch like me happy for days? Well, the ice cream truck just stopped, motherfucker.
Jeremy started popping sweat like What the fuck I just stepped into here? This bitch is tripping her ass off. What he said was: Look Ma’am, I’m sorry. He started punching buttons on the elevator panel. Next floor this thing stopped on he was breaking for it. The elevator dinged.
Look at you, the woman said, stepping closer to him. You been dreaming about me all your pitiful little life and when I finally step out of your dreams and onto an elevator your dick shrinks up like you wearing ice water pants. Let me see what you working with you big dick daddy, or are all you boys just talk and no walk?
She reached for Jeremy’s zipper and yanked it down. Jeremy shot back to a corner like he was struck in the belly. The elevator dinged again. She stuck her hand inside his trousers and leaned into him, whispering. Give mama the fuck of her life and she’ll make it rain like April showers, she said.
The elevator dinged open. Jeremy pushed her aside and threw himself off the elevator, falling to the floor. He leaped to his feet and broke into a dead run. The woman was flushed, but collected herself and watched as he ran, looking back in abject horror, flying down the hall in his brown shorts and baseball cap. She pushed her floor.
Pussy, she said.
