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playgrounds—no, no . . . like amusement parks. They can be fun ’n’ tiring at times. And ohh so exciting the next. There’s always something to hop up ’n’ down on, bounce on, slide down on ’n’ spin around on. It’s like one big thrilling rollercoaster ride. You never know what you’re gonna get or how the ride is gonna end until you strap up ’n’ take it for a spin.”
    She turns down onto my street, shaking her head. “Ohmigod! Fiona, girl, you’re a hot mess!” She starts laughing. “Only you would say some crazy ish like that. What about love, girl?”
    I rapidly blink my eyes at her. Oh no, this messy heffa didn’t just go there! Cursing me with that, that, that dirty L -word!
    â€œ Love? What about it?”
    â€œDon’t you want it?”
    â€œNo. I’m allergic to it.”
    She laughs. “Whatever. No. I’m serious. Don’t you ever wish you had a boo you could call your own? Someone you can love ’n’ know he’s the same boy who loves you back?”
    â€œGirl, please.” I tsk. “There’s no guarantee he’s gonna love you back.”
    â€œWell, no. But you can’t be afraid to take a risk, either. Sometimes you have to trust your heart. Look at me ’n’ Antonio. I wasn’t beat for him at first ’cause I knew he was a dog, but he kept pressin’ me until I finally gave in, ’n’ look at us now. Madly in love. And I trust him with all my heart.”
    â€œOoh, Oprah, boo,” I say sarcastically, rolling my eyes dramatically. “I didn’t know you had it in you. Sign me up.”
    She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Whatever. You don’t know what you’re missing out on, boo.”
    â€œGirl, let me stop. I do have it.”
    She gives me a confused look. “You have what ?”
    â€œLots of love.”
    She stops her car in front of my house ’n’ tilts her head. “Oh, really?”
    I smirk. “Yes. I love turnin’ boys out. It ain’t no secret. I love sex, boo. Don’t you? ’Cause I know you ’n’ that boo-daddy of yours stays playin’ Twister in the sheets.”
    She laughs. “Sex is not the most important thing with me and Antonio. Yes, I enjoy it with him. But it’s not all we do. I love him for him. Not for what he does or doesn’t do in bed. I enjoy his company.”
    I blink. “Dear gawd!” I clutch my chest. “ Boooorrrring .”
    â€œFiona, I think it’s time you shut ya legs more ’n’ open ya heart to love, boo.”
    â€œGirl, no.” I shake my head. “Not interested. Love doesn’t have a home here, boo. Lust is the only thing livin’ in my heart.”
    She gives me a look that borders more on pity than appreciation for my truths. And I give it right back. Trust. There’s nothing pitiful about me not wanting to be boo’d up with only one boy. If God didn’t want me to indulge my desires, why would He tempt me, huh? Why would He dangle so many fine, mouthwatering cuties out in front of me, knowing my weakness, if He didn’t want me to reach out ’n’ sample ’em, huh?
    I tell you why. Because He wants me to indulge. Because monogamy is about as played out as them dusty hood roaches on Love & Hip Hop , chasing behind that old nasty Joe Budden, okay? Ain’t nobody got time for that. So, forbidden fruit or not, it is my mission, my divine diva purpose, to pluck more than one sweet, juicy, sexy boo-daddy from off the vine, gobble him up, then spit him out ’n’ send him on his merry way. And, yes, boo. I stay doing it for the vine. Don’t you?
    â€œOne nice boy is all you need, girl.” She unlocks the car doors. “All that messin’ with a buncha boys is real whack.”
    I wave her on, then grab my bag. “Umm, hello? Speak for ya’self. Why settle