There’s a beautiful African American girl often seen on the Avenue. She’s a willowy, 6 foot gal with loping legs and a runway model’s leanness dressed as if she popped right out of Vogue.
You can’t help admiring someone who emerges like a well-heeled swan on a daily basis.
I found myself standing behind her at the newsstand. She had an O Magazine, and I a Hershey Bar with nuts (figures). The man at the register was selling someone Lotto tickets so I had ample opportunity to see this woman up, close and personal.
I couldn’t help noticing her Adam’s apple aptly covered by an Hermes scarf when it billowed a bit from the breeze via the air-conditioning. My first thought was…her gland must be swollen…hey…I don’t immediately think of smoke and mirrors…she was stunning despite her enlarged, concealed apple.
And who knows, anatomically her apple just might be bigger than average…like with other parts of the body.
I still wasn’t with the program until the store owner, after she left, said with a sly grin, “He’s a beauty, isn’t he?”
I must say excuse me at least twenty times a day. You would think someone leaving her 5th decade would have some savvy beneath her Prada belt by now, but truthfully, I’m shocked on an hourly basis.
“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
And now I can chant…you know what they say about someone with a big Adam’s apple don’t you?
He’s certainly better looking than any girl I know.
Let’s hear it for him…
I mean her.