He calms down. Usually this is all it takes to get him to shut the fuck up. I swear, I love this man, but he can make shit so damn difficult. You’d think he’d be more mellow now that his time behind the wall is short, but nooooooooo. He seems to be getting moodier, and more agitated.

“Oh, word? I’m horny, too.” He sighs, pausing. “Man, I’m tired of this shit. I’m ready to come the fuck home, yo. This prison shit is for the birds, word up. I need some muhfuckin’ pussy. I need my dick sucked. And I wanna eat some ass, bad.”

“I know. I’m ready for you to come home, too. How you think I feel? I need some dick, bad. I’m tired of playing in my pussy. I miss that big dick, baby.”

“Fuck! You got my shit bricked. I can’t wait to get home and bust that hole wide open. You better not be out there giving my pussy out, yo.”

I suck my teeth. “Not this shit again.”

“’Not this shit again’, my ass, yo. I don’t know where the fuck you was last night, or this morning.”

“Fuck, nigga,” I snap, switching the phone from one ear to the other. “I told you, I was home. I didn’t hear the damn phone because I was fucking drained. And this morning I went to the gym for an hour, from there I went to Wegmans, and then had to go to the cleaners to drop clothes off. By the time I got home, it was already going on ten, so I only had time jump in the shower and get dressed, then race out the door.”

“Yeah, aiight. Why you ain’t say all that shit in the first place? Let me find out some other shit, aiight?”

I sigh. “There is no other shit to find out, fool.”

“I’m tellin’ you, Pasha, don’t have me fuck nothin’ up, yo.”

“What. Ever.”

He lowers his voice, going from one extreme to the other. “Yo, what kinda panties you got on? We got time to get it in before your appointment?”