Tiki and Me

It was last summer. I was parking my car across the street from my building. Of course I was excited about my ‘good spot’, as well I should be. It was a real find. There I was, in the car, parking perfectly. Then, I was unloading; bending, lifting, etc. Let’s just say, I was there for a while. I noticed, out of the corner of my eye, a man standing at the curb, about eight feet from me, watching me. I then looked up at him. He kept his head down but his eyes looked up, as he spoke on his cell. He made no eye contact. Just talked and stared, not at my eyes, but more on my butt as I leaned down and up, moved back and forth, from the front seat to the trunk.

He was an African American man, dressed in white. White shirt, white shorts, white sneakers, white baseball cap.

Hot.

Wait a minute. He looks familiar. Is that? No. Maybe it is? Could that be…

Tiki Barber?

I think it is.

Cool!

Tiki Barber AND he was totally checking me out.

I was sure it was him. Didn’t speak to him. But Tiki and I totally had a moment. I walked away to go inside. I looked back. Tiki was gone. I think he walked into the building. I think Tiki Barber lives across the street from me!

It was quite an ego boost that Tiki checked out my butt. I told my whole family! My mom and sister were like, “Who’s Tiki Barber?”

“Ugh!”

A few weeks later, I was happily parked on my block, across the street from my building again. (I was having a lucky couple of weeks!) Well, it was a Saturday, and I was going to drive to Long Island to see the fam. I left the building, walked towards my car. As I approached it, I noticed another car double parked, blocking my Toyota. It was a gorgeous, white, Bentley convertible.

Hot.

The driver, however, was an asshole.

He took his sweet time, moving to let me out. I really didn’t notice what he looked like. I was much too intent on getting the heck out of my great spot! As I pulled out, there was a little traffic on the street. Some trucks and cars double-parked as well. So, it was taking a moment. All of a sudden some obnoxious car pulls out and darts in front of me to try to make it out before me.

“What an asshole!”

I look over at the jerk who cut me off.

“What?” It was the gorgeous, white, Bentley convertible. With Tiki Barber in it!! Or was it his twin brother? Maybe. Either way, they’re both assholes!

There it was. My second Tiki Barber moment.

I told Doris (my sis) about the Tiki encounter. She goes, “Yeah, I think he lives on your block.” She remembered him reporting on a little incident we had on our block a few years back. He had mentioned that he actually saw the incident happen out the window of his apartment. Who would think Tiki and I shared something so special.

Today, I was walking into work and passed a newspaper stand. The headline and front picture of the daily news said something about ‘Tiki something or other.’ I did a double take and walked back to see the paper. Tiki, my Tiki was pulling a Tiger Woods. Oh no! Not my Tiki! Say it ain’t so.

But of course Tiki is a dirt bag. Isn’t everybody these days? After all, he WAS checking out my ass a couple of months ago! Right outside the home he shares with his wife and kids for the love of God!

As I walked towards my building that evening, daydreaming, I noticed a shleppy guy in the street, carrying a few huge cameras with really long lenses. He was on my side of the street, but was looking at the building across the street and walking back and forth. Tiki’s building.

PAPARAZZI! Cool!

I didn’t hang around to watch the media frenzy.

Hmm. Maybe I can sell my Tiki story to TMZ and cash in. LOL.