Tangia


Chapter 1

Mmm...This sure tastes good, almost like my grandma's... Ralph Burton dug into his plate of spicy barbecue pulled pork, collard greens, macaroni and cheese, and hot water cornbread. With each bite he was transported back to a time when such indulgences meant nothing more than a full belly and satisfied appetite. OK, so the doc said to lay off the fatty meats, cheeses, whole milk, and butter. But this is just one meal, and he promised himself to be good the rest of the week. He just couldn't resist the tantalizing aromas emanating from Dinah's Soul Shack, a downtown diner Ralph passed everyday to and from work. However, due to dietary restrictions, Ralph would pass up all that good down-home, butter and lard-laden, cream enriched food for more healthier sustenance. Ordinarily he would bring his lunch to work, usually a brown bag meal his wife fixed for him the night before. What was in that bag? Sensible but tasty fare consisting of water-packed tuna or sliced turkey breast on whole wheat bread (no mayo!), a salad, some fruit, and a bottle of water. However, last night, his wife forgot to pack his lunch due to tending a sick child. So Ralph was on his own for lunch. Oh, he could have stopped in his office building's cafeteria and grabbed a salad, but he felt like getting out. He passed up the Chinese joint (healthy veggies and steamed rice), the many fast food places (again, a salad in lieu of burgers and fries), and headed right for the soul food diner. Something about the place beckoned to him, so he took a chance. No way would he tell his wife where he lunched. If he did, she would make him eat water-packed tuna and rice cakes for a week. It was a comfy, homey diner, not too ostentatious and totally lacking in pretentiousness. Just your average diner complete with plain, unadorned tables and chairs, a counter with stools. On the walls there were numerous paintings and photos depicting African American life and culture. In the corner by the door, there was a jukebox from which flowed the sounds of old school soul and R&B.

The staff – what there was of it – was very friendly, which made Ralph feel as if he was almost back in the old neighborhood, before he went off to college, before the career, marriage and kids, suburbia and commuting to the city...

The waitress, Sadie, was pleasant enough but Ralph detected something familiar about her. He knew he hadn't met her before, but there was something about this woman that touched him deeply. As he savored his food, she approached with tea pitcher in hand and a smile on her face. And it was a lovely face. Sadie's youthful good looks belied her years – fifty-four to be exact. Sure, the body was a tad heavy, but that pronounced hourglass figure perhaps hinted at what she may have looked like ten, twenty years ago. Her skin was flawless, the color of satiny smooth caramel. The eyes were still had the spark of youth, and they suggested beyond the usual, "More sweet tea, honey?"
That mouth, those plump, full glossy lips seemed ready to deliver a big juicy kiss or belt out a sultry song. There was a definite sway in the walk – what Ralph's grandmother used to call "wiggle walking" – that suggested she might have been a hooker or stripper if she wasn't waiting tables. She smiled at Ralph and refilled his tea glass. The voice was as smooth and deep as the ocean, as sultry as the hottest summer night. No, thought Ralph, this woman is no hoochie; she's obviously a single mother working her butt off to feed her kids. Why am I thinking she's anything but that?

"Everything tasting good, sweetie?"  Sadie's smile wouldn't quit as she tried to make small talk. Ralph, ever so glad he came to this place, said, "Yes...," he glanced at her name badge. "Yes, Sadie. These are the best greens I've ever had. Even better than my grandma's."

Sadie tossed her head and laughed out loud. "Don't let her hear you say that, baby!"

Then she left him to attend to other customers. All the while eating his meal, Ralph couldn't get over how Sadie sang along to almost every song emanating from the jukebox. That woman sure can sing, but where have I seen her before?

******

"Hey, Sadie! Can you get me some more cornbread?"
"Sadie, pick up on #4!"
"Lookin' good, Sadie!"

 It was like that the entire forty-five minutes of Ralph's lunch 'hour'. As he lingered over a slice of excellent chess pie and a cup of the best coffee he ever had, Ralph took in Sadie's presence, her easy rapport with the customers, all the while battling that question: "Where have I seen her before?"

 Just as Ralph finished his pie and prepared to leave, two more customers entered the diner. The man, named Eddie, called out to Sadie, "Hey, girl! What's shakin'?"
 Sadie smiled and laughed, replying, "Not much, Eddie. How you doin'?"  She acknowledged the presence of the woman who entered, saying with utmost politeness, "Hi, Miss Dinah."
Ah, so "Miss Dinah" is the owner of this fab eatery. Ralph, mindful of the time, had to compliment this woman for a most memorable meal, not to mention the fantastic service. Dinah Morgan, a large handsome woman in her early sixties, opened the diner twenty years ago. Renown for her famous culinary skills, Dinah once worked as a caterer to the city's upper-class folks. That would be bank presidents, judges, politicians, company CEOs, other well-heeled professionals who were particular about good food and entertained freely and lavishly. After her husband passed, her clientele dying off, and the emergence of competing catering firms, Dinah decided to open the diner. It served the best soul food in town, received rave reviews from influential restaurant critics, and even got featured on Food TV. She swam through the diner, inspected the diner's general cleanliness, kept tabs on daily sales.

Ralph, donning his coat, walked over to the cash register to pay his bill. Momentarily, he studied Dinah who busied herself totaling up the morning's sales. He hesitated a bit, then said as Sadie graciously rang up his bill. Putting change into his hand, she said, "Thank you. You come back, and have a nice day."
 "I will," Ralph said, stuffing the change into his coat pocket. His eyes shifted from Sadie's beautiful face to Dinah's commanding form. Before turning to leave, he said, "This is a great place. I don't usually eat the down-home stuff. My doctor and wife won't let me indulge in it too much. But I must say the food here is top drawer in my book, so is the service."

Dinah looked up from her work, replying, "Why, thank you, honey. And don't worry about not being able to have good ol' soul food every now and then. I got sugar, so I have to watch what I eat, but moderation is my motto."

Ralph smiled and bid the ladies a good afternoon. As he prepared to exit the diner, he overheard Leroy the cook say, "Hey, Sadie! There's your song on the jukebox."
Something made Ralph retrace his steps, make his way to the jukebox, scan the numbers of the songs. He noticed #212 was currently playing. Yes, it did sound somewhat familiar, a song from his parents' day. His eyes scanned the list of records, lighted upon #212, then grew wide with astonishment. He glanced at Sadie who was busy taking and serving orders. Then he looked at the song's title and artist:

"Rough Love" ~ Tangia

Tangia...Didn't Dad have one of her albums? The one Mom wouldn't let me listen to because she said it wasn't fit for kids? Come to think of it, it was said Tangia herself was too hot for her time...Hmm...Wonder what caused her to end up waiting tables? Ralph, once outside, couldn't get the song out his head – that sexy thumping beat, the naughty lyrics, the almost orgasmic moaning and growling... Back at the office, when he got the chance, logged on the Internet, then Googled "Tangia". What he found...

"Oh my God!," he whispered, not wanting his secretary or passing co-workers to overhear, "Sadie Cooper is – was – Tangia...Now, what happened to force her to take a minimum wage job? Okay...this page should tell me...Oh my God...Tell me this didn't happen!"

TO BE CONTINUED...Go to Chapter 2

Copyright©2005 by P.R. Parker. All Rights Reserved.


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