Josie arrived exactly at 10:00 in front of the Montresi restaurant. From the outside, one could tell business was winding down, but inside the fine dining restaurant, he watched as a waiter worked in a corner in something that resembled a Playboy bunny outfit. It almost looked like a one-piece swimsuit, with a very short skirt that left almost nothing to the imagination and a pair of platform heels. Josie wasn't surprised to see the restaurant's clientele was almost all-Black, and somehow it didn't faze him much to see all these women towering over their male partners. It felt normal, like what he was used to seeing.
Josie's reverie was interrupted when he saw a short man—maybe 4'10" or 4'11"—walk out. His presence made Josie smile for no reason. He was appreciating his beauty. His long, dark hair effortlessly cascaded over his shoulders, framing his C-cup breasts. He wasn't wearing the platform heels, which made him high enough so that the women could see his large and perfectly round ass. His skin tone was like a drop of coffee in a cup of milk, giving the clear impression that he was a second generation Cuban boy living in America—maybe with a white mother he never saw.
"Hey," Josie said, not hiding his smile. "You look gorgeous."
"Come on, I'm not that cute..."
"Yes, you are. How was your day?" Josie held his boylfriend's hand.
"Busy, as usual. Had some rambunctious clients today...loud talking women. You know how they are."
"Yep. The usual. On my side, Ms. Moon tried to find her way to my sally and my balls during a conference call with a lot of VIPs." Is this normal? I remember that things should be different.
"That Ms. Moon... She's disgusting. What a creep. Makes me glad we don't live around a lot of women."
"You're lucky. You were born and raised in the Coop, Ramona. I came from Havana, and I wouldn't be in this country if I weren't working for Ms. Moon."
Ramona squeezed Josie's hand. "I understand. Sometimes we have to understand that we're often not the most important people to...the most important people in our lives."
"I know. I just wish I had a chance to be free of her. But the best a man can do in college is to get into a silly class or become a nurse. I hate this ceiling imp
