Two weeks later
Another typical day filled with interviews. He had one at twelve, three and six. And he knew the type of questions that were going to be asked. The same questions of every interview.
Sometimes he thought they were just trying to torture him by asking him the same questions all the time. After being asked ten times about his past relationship with women, he thought they would've had common sense not to ask again. AFTER the first time.
"There's this rumor going around that you were diagnosed with AIDS." the host mentioned.
"Wow, really?" he asked in a state of surprise. "Well that rumor is one hundred percent false because I practice safe sex. Everytime." he made clear.
"That's the smart way. No wonder you have no kids." he chuckled softly.
"Actually..." he hesitated. "Maybe I should clear something up. I practice safe sex with women I have no intention on spending the rest of my life with. Women I see no future with."
"Oh! So..." he nodded.
"Yes. Beyonce and I are expecting a baby. We've been working on it for a few months now and finally..." he smiled. "...it all paid off."
"Congratulations man." he thanked while positioning the head phones more comfortably over his head.
"I can't wait to see the lil' fella. Hopefully it's a boy." he spoke, gazing at the radio host across from him.
"What makes Beyonce so different from the other women you've been with?" he cleared his throat.
"Well...first I just wanna say that she has a heart. And that's one of the things that most of the women I dated lacked. They were rude and they thought only about themselves. Selfish is the best word to describe them and Bee is nothing like that. She's respectful, caring, sharing and loving. And I love her. And she will probably be the only woman I love for a long time. But, there was one woman who was close to her. The only thing that messed her up was her demanding attitude. Boy..." he shook his head. "She was very controlling."
"I hate women like that. I know she made up for that in the bedroom though. Haha." he blushed slyly.
"I uhhh, I prefer not to talk about that. Ahaha. I wouldn't wanna...get in trouble back at home. Haha." he broke out laughing.
"Yeah. I forgot you were a married man now. Well...engaged." he nodded in agreement.
"I have a question for ya'. What's the difference between black and white women...in bed? What are their differences."
"Damn." he sat up. "You had to put me on the spot. I have to answer this question?" he asked in a baby like manner.
"Just try to answer it the best you can."
"Umm..." he bit his lip in thought. "Well, I just...well first I just wanna say that I'm sorry to my fiancé and I know she's gonna probably kick my ass when I get back home. But um, these are the things I love about white women. Most white women will do anything you ask 'em in bed. If I was to tell 'em to...go down south they would without hesitation." he broke out laughing. "I'm serious. With black women, you have to try and talk them into it. But that's what I love about them. They're strong willed and out spoken. And Bee is definitely out spoken. She won't let you talk to her any type of way. I do...prefer black women though. I'm not saying anything's wrong with my own kind, I just...there's always something you prefer over something else. Like ice cream for instance. I prefer cookie dough over plain vanilla. But both are good!"
"Yeah, I know what you mean. And with boobs...you prefer big or small ones?"
"Hahaha!" he laughed hysterically. "Umm, I'm gonna have to go with big. Well...medium sized."
"Cool. And one more before we go on commercial. Have you ever given a girl head before?" he slammed his fist on the table.
"Next question. Haha. I'm gonna have to pass that one up. Sorry."
"Hahaha!! Okay. No problem."
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