Coffee, Half Black

I'm currently working on a story, but don't feel ready to start posting chapters. Instead, I'm just going to post a quick draft of a part I've written into it.

  The air was a bit stuffy. The smell of cigarette smoke and Arabic black coffee went along with the dusty table and chairs in the living room to give it a feel of somewhere Micheal had been before. He thought perhaps his grandfathers house. But it missed something. He thought about it for a moment, while he took another sip of coffee. Black cherry. He had it. He put down his half filled mug.
“Black cherry.” he said out loud. Speaking his random thoughts always made him feel easier.
“What's black cherry?” April asked as she took a draw of her cigarette.
“A flavor of pipe tobacco. It just popped in my mind.” He took another drag of his cigarette. April had gotten use to his occasional random rants. “So you were saying that you went to the doctor?” Micheal was in the process of telling her about his recent surgery, but Gillian’s Island playing on the tv distracted them both from the conversation.

“Right, the doctors. Well, I went to have surgery.” He said in a matter of fact tone.

April's expression shifted. “Why didn't you tell anyone? Is everything okay?” He knew her concerns. “Yeah, everything's fine. I went in for plastic surgery.” He took one last chug of his coffee to finish it off. “So you win the lottery and the first thing you do is go and get plastic surgery?” April had every right to be cynical. “Well, I don't see any difference.” She put her cigarette down in the ash tray and sat back in the chair, waiting for his response. Micheal gave her a dirty look. “No! First I paid off my bills and student loans. Then I got the surgery.” He said priding himself on the fact that he could finally stop worrying about debt collectors always harassing him now.

“And!” He paused to put out his cigarette. “That's because I got something not everyone can see.” Micheal grinned as he told her. Her face went blank. “You didn't get fake abs put under your skin, did you?” Micheal tilted his head confused where she would get such an idea. “Of course not! I'm not that shallow.”
“Not yet.” she retorted with a grin.

“Well, here. I'll show you.” Micheal stood up and pulled his c**k and balls out of his pants. She thought to herself that they had become too comfortable with each other if he could just pull his c**k out in front of her with no sense of modesty. April looked his member and noticed it was a bit longer, but there was a very dark area of skin now along the shaft. Looked too much like it belonged to someone who was black. She started to laugh “You got a penis enlargement and you're somehow not that shallow?!” she mockingly asked him. Micheal sighed put everything back in his pants. “Well, when I'm hard it's a full nine inches now.” April let out a burst of laughter. “Boys and their toys!” Her laugh calmed down to a giggle. 'Why is there a darker patch there now?” He stood up and pulled it back out, showing her where she was talking about. “This is where they added extra length to it. I guess it came from a black guy, or some darker colored guy.” April looked at him confused still giggling, as if she was just told something funny yet retarded. “Why didn't they just use a part from a different white guy?” Micheal put everything back in his pants once again and explained “Well, I could have gone to a doctor that would do it for $15,000. But then I heard this other doctor, the one I went to, would do it for half that price.”

April slapped her forehead. “Micheal! You just won $15 million, but for some reason, you're not willing to shell out an extra $7 thousand to make sure your frivolous journey of stabbing hookers in the womb with you man meat can go on without one of them taking notice that your c**k is now half black?” Micheal just looked at her. He was too busy trying to figure out what frivolous meant. April could see the blank stare with the long pause meant he wasn't sure what she said. “Pointless. Frivolous means pointless.” She told him. She knew him too well. “Look” he sat back down on the couch. “It's not for hookers and their infected wombs. It's for myself.” She laughed again. He laughed with her. “Okay, yeah that came out wrong. What I mean is..” He paused to light another cigarette. “I feel more confident knowing that I have more to offer a woman that I may meet at a club or bar. It gives me a stronger feeling of confidence.” She shook her head still laughing. “Why do all men base their entire personalities and self-esteem around how large their penis's are?” He knew she made a good point, but he wasn't going to lose this argument.

“We don't base our personalities around it, just our self-esteem.” he pointed out like he was passing on ancient wisdom. “I prefer it bigger, and if I'm happy, what does it matter what other people think?” She stood up and took both their mugs to go pour more coffee. She pointed her finger at him. “It will matter when you hook up with some s**t who tells you that she's had bigger, 'cause then it's gonna shatter your whole world.” She let out a loud laugh and walked off to the kitchen. He slouched on the couch and took a deep inhale of his cigarette smoke. His eyes widened as he realized she was right, and though to himself he may just have to get another operation to make it even bigger.  

Author's Note

Like I've said. This is just a small part that kinda sums up where the entire story is "going". I feel it's a bit absurd, but that's what I like to write about.