by C. Wash
“Mmmmm, I can’t wait,” Jones said not feeling Native’s distance. “Please don’t keep me in suspense. I wanna feel your tongue inside me,” Jones anxiously begged. “I want you to lick my pussy up.” She was oblivious to Native’s mood change.
“You know what, this ain’t right,” Native said, while backing up and straightening her uniform once again.
“What are you talking about? What ain’t right?” Jones asked confused with her legs open, and bare ass on the dressing room’s wooden bench.
“How the fuck can you be a grown woman in your thirties, and walk around with your pussy smelling like garbage truck juice?” Native boldly questioned. She was furious that her face almost went there.
“O-M-GEEE! Are you fucking kidding me,” Jones shot back, highly upset and embarrassed.
“You don’t smell that shit?” Native questioned.
“What do you mean,” she sniffed the air. “It smells like sex to me.”
“Supe, I don’t know what kinda sex you use to, but it ain’t never ‘sposed to smell like this shit,” Native schooled.
“I have never in my life been told no bullshit like this! And trust me, I have had plenty sex partners.”
“Yeah, that’s exactly what it smell like too! Your pussy is rancid! You may have the clap or some shit. You need to seek medical attention to clear that up pronto,” Native continued, heading towards the door to leave.
“You got me fucked up, dyke! I knew I shouldn’t have gotten involved with your ass,” Jones yelled pulling up her thong and pants.
Native walked out of the dressing room, leaving Jones to her anger and pussy odor. When she hit the sales floor she locked eyes with her best friend Mystro.
Mystro was busy closing a sales purchase with a customer when she approached. “Son, smell this shit,” Native demanded, not caring that the customer had not left the counter, when she shoved her fingers under Mystro’s nose.
“Uggh, nigga. Go ‘head wit’ that shit. The fuck is that?” Mystro questioned wiping her upper lip.
“It’s Supe. That bitch snatch rotten.”
Mystro fell out in laughter, which made Native angrier. “That shit ain’t funny, man. What the fuck? I hate for bitches not to be hygienic. She had a dingy bra on and everything. That was my fault for not dipping when I peeped that,” Native confessed.
The customer who should have been gone by now, was taking her time leaving out the store. Her ear hustle antennas had been activated, and she tried her hardest to listen to as much as possible as she slowly made an exit.
“Wooooowww…That’s terrible. She too sexy for that shit,” Mystro added. “But come on, champ you need to be easy. I need my job. You know I’m saving up for my own spot. I got a five year plan.”
“Ohhh my god, if I gotta hear about that damn five year plan again, I’ma shoot somebody.” Native said frustrated.
“I’m serious, moe, relax for you get us fired.”
“Yeah aight, you right. I mean even though I got sponsors to get me fresh, if I don’t kick mommy her money, I’m gonna be homeless.”
“Right ‘cuz you ain’t moving in the spot with me and my future wife, whenever I get one.” Mystro said.
Native rolled her eyes.
Just then Supervisor Jones came out onto the sales floor. She watched as the customer was leaving, but continued to look back towards Native and Mystro’s direction. She saw how Native stood behind the counter with Mystro, while they both were laughing, probably at her. The scene infuriated her even more.
She walked up to them. “You fired. Both of you. Get out now,” Jones yelled.
“Fired?” Both Native and Mystro replied.
“Yes, I didn’t stutter. I want you gone, immediately. Don’t bother clocking out.”
“How the fuck you gonna fire us?” Native asked.
“Right, I ain’t even did shit, Supe,” Mystro followed up.
“I can fire whoever the fuck I want. I run this shop. Ya’ll two dykes been stealing from this company for too long. I just been letting ya’ll get away with it, but that’s dead,” Jones fabricated.
“Mannnn, prove it,” Native challenged.
While Native wanted Jones to produce evidence, Mystro knew they had been side-selling unreleased Jordan’s and Nike Foamposites at higher prices, for extra profit for a minute. The problem was that everyone did it, including Supervisor Jones. They had a specific list of people they sold to, and they would all make a come up on the fact that these people would damn near pay anything just to have the exclusive shoes early. But given the circumstances that had just taken place, Mystro knew Native and her were finished there.
Mystro immediately took off her nametag and walked into the back to retrieve their things.
“Do you really want me to show you my evidence, Native? Or better yet, how about I just show the police?” Jones threatened.
Native thought about Supe’s words. She also knew they participated in fraudulent activity. And she figured what Mystro figured, it was better to just get fired, than it was to get fired and arrested. So Native didn’t say another word. She just snatched her polo off revealing her white wife beater, and numerous tattoos. Just as she threw her shirt on the floor, Mystro came around the corner with her book bag and tossed Native her’s.
“Let’s break out,” Mystro instructed.
Native put her Nike book bag on her back, and adjusted the navy Washington Nationals baseball cap on her head. She followed Mystro towards the door just as a group of dudes were walking inside the store. Native saw the opportunity as payback time. Standing at the store’s entrance, she looked at the guys, and then at Jones.
“Next time you wanna get fucked in the dressing room, make sure you wash your ass,” Native yelled. “No woman should smell like she got a trout between her legs, ever. Fuck you, bitch.” Native laughed, as she and Mystro strolled out of the mall in hysterics.
Supervisor Jones stood there motionless and mortified as the group of young baller’s laughed uncontrollably at Native’s comment. Jones ignored the guys, and continued to stare at Native’s back, as she disappeared out of the mall.
That dyke has to come back and pick up her last check. And as soon as she does, I’ma have something for her ass. Supervisor Jones thought.
CHAPTER 2
“Getting fired really fucking wit’ my pockets, son,” Native told Mystro. “I need some income fast. Mommy already on my back for the rent.”
“Humph…your ass wasn’t too concerned when we was at work. You know you ain’t have no business trying to get at Supe. You don’t be thinking, nigga,” Mystro shot back. “You set me back wit’ that dumb shit.”
It had been three weeks after they were fired. Being as though they left on bad terms, Mystro came up with the idea that included her going to their former job on Supervisor Jones’ off day, to retrieve her and Native’s last check. She figured Jones would never turn over their money without a problem. With the new plan in play, Mystro was able to walk into the store, and pick up their checks from the assistant manager, minus any dramatic scene that Supe would’ve given.
Mystro and Native were at Native’s mother’s house, where they shared a medium sized bedroom in the Northeast section of Washington DC. Although Native was still unemployed, Mystro was able to get a job at Hoagies Sandwich Shop. She was serious about building a future and a family, complete with a beautiful wife and she knew having an income was key.
“Slim, there was no way I knew all that was happening in her draws. You even admitted she was a bad bitch that was well put together. I mean she stayed coming to work smelling like expensive perfume. I’da been a fool to not try and smash. ‘Specially after all the love she was throwing a nigga.”
“Well congratulations, champ. You got the green light but now what?” Mystro questioned facetiously.
“Man, fuck her and that job. I hate working for another mothafucka anyway. We need to start snatching shit like I been telling you we should do,” Native ans
wered.
Ever since they became friends in high school, which was over ten years ago, Native was always trying to get Mystro to be a part of some caper. From boosting clothes and movies, to pre-selling high priced shoes and robbing people, Native thought about it all. Some of the schemes they even followed through with. The only problem was neither one of them really had the heart for crime. Although Native made up for what heart she lacked, with her extreme determination. Mystro, on the other hand, was not a fan of the criminal lifestyle.
“Man, you know I ain’t ‘bout to fuck with you on no stick ups. I feel bad enough about the shoe shit. I like to get my ends honestly, you know that,” Mystro confessed, while getting dressed.
“Shut your bamma ass up! You always acting like you ain’t got no hustle in you. I know that’s bullshit though cuz you was cut from the same cloth as me, so kill all that noise,” Native hollered.
“Whatever, I gotta get ready to break out, son,” Mystro informed.
“The fuck you going so early?”
“Gotta get to work. I can’t keep sitting around wit’ you trying to cook up schemes.”
“Whatever, nigga. I know you ain’t trying to retire in no hoagie shop.”
“Fuck no,” Mystro laughed, “but for now, it’s paying the bills. You know your mother gonna keep coming at us sideways until she got her money. Plus you know I got a plan to stick to. They still hiring. You need to come through that joint and get an app,” Mystro informed.
“Naw, I’ma leave the bread baking and foot long making to your ass,” Native teased.
“Hahaha…Suck my dick,” Mystro joked, “What you gonna do about PRIDE. though? I know you need a new fit or two for the parties.”
“Oh, my nigga, you know I ain’t gonna have no problem scaring some sponsors up to at least hook me up a few pieces to wear. You dig?” Native said arrogantly.
“I feel you,” Mystro laughed, “But what you gonna have to do to get that sponsorship is the question? You remember the last time you had to pass out a charity fuck right,” Mystro chastised. “You still got that restraining order in effect on ole girl?”
“Everybody a mothafucking comedian these days I guess,” Native said angrily. “At least I was the one that had to put the order out on a bitch and not the one the order was put on.” Native shot back referring to the TPO Leslie placed on Mystro some months back.
Mystro did not reply, she just looked away from Native with sadness in her eyes thinking about Leslie.
“My bad, son, I went too far. I ain’t mean to-” Native’s apology was interrupted by a loud bang at the front door. The two friends dashed down the charcoal gray-carpeted stairs, and looked through the window. On the other side of it stood their protégé’ who they affectionately named, Baby Dom. All five-foot-nothing inches of herself.
Mystro opened the door. “Baby Dom, what the fuck you banging for, Champ,” Mystro questioned.
“Right, you know mommy upstairs trying to sleep before church tonight,” Native scolded.
“Oh…damn…my bad…Fam,” Baby Dom said, clearly out of breath. “I…was…trying…to…see…what ya’ll…was up…to…and shit,” she continued, as she dropped her head down, and grabbed her basketball shorts at the knees while looking anxiously to her left.
“What we was up to? Get the hell outta here,” Mystro yelled unenthused.
“Yeah, and why you keep looking back and fourth? What the fuck is up?” Native asked her.
“Nothing...nothing, just…out jogging and shit, ain’t no whole lot to that,” Baby Dom replied, looking up at the two and trying to regain her breath.
“Jogging? Not wit’ them foam’s on your feet, your ass begged and schemed for us to get you. I know better than that. You wouldn’t even ball in ‘em, much less be fake jogging. Stop bullshitting,” Mystro schooled.
“For real, I wouldn’t lie to ya’ll. You like family to me.” Baby Dom tried to convince them of her honesty, while she continuously peered over her shoulder, and down the street.
“You welling, I can tell,” Native added.
“Uh…I gotta use the bathroom. Let me come in right quick, Fam,” Baby Dom said now standing, as she begin to shift her weight from her left to her right foot, in an attempt to look as though she really had to pee.
“Hell no,” both Mystro and Native yelled simultaneously.
“You know you can’t get past the porch ‘round here, wit’ your thieving ass,” Mystro advised.
“Oh naw, come on, Fam. I ain’t ‘bout that life no more,” Baby Dom said bending back down and panting while looking off the porch and into the street again.
“Fuck you mean you ain’t ‘bout that life? The last time we let you come through, Native was a pair of J’s lighter. You forget ‘bout that?” Mystro asked.
“Oh naw…Shit, I was young and tripping. Know what I’m saying,” She replied, “that wasn’t personal. I was just practicing.”
“Young?” Mystro leaned in. “BD, that was six months ago.”
“Right, and she tried to sell me back my own shit the next day,” Native stated. “After we spanked dat ass, we told you no more invites into the crib.”
In the not so far distance gunshots, and a man yelling could be heard up the street. He was the local street vender who sold everything at his table from fake NFL jersey’s, to fake Timberland boots. It was your choice, but they would always be fake.
“Where the fuck is that lil dyke bitch,” Stand Dude yelled, angrily while occasionally introducing his .9mm’s bullets into the air.
Now standing up straight again Baby Dom faced them and said, “Fam, unless you want us all to be killed, I think ya’ll need to let me in.”
CHAPTER 3
Mystro walked into the Hoagie shop where she currently worked. She hated the way the store always smelled. Although, it was the scent of fresh bread baking, it became nauseating to her, but it was a job so she had to deal with it.
“Chocolate, Mr. Kadam here with the checks yet?” Mystro asked her co-worker who stood behind the counter doing nothing.
“Yeah, he here, in the back. Hey, how you get off for a weekend already? You only been working here for a couple weeks.” Chocolate sounded disgruntled.
“I put in for it when I got hired. Why you in my business?”
Mystro couldn’t stand Chocolate. When she first got the job, she tried to be cool with her. But, she soon discovered that Chocolate wanted what Mystro did not want with her, a relationship. Although Mystro really wanted to be wifed up with a family, she still had taste. Chocolate was annoying. She would do simple shit like brush past Mystro as she made customer’s sandwiches and pinch her butt. And the worst was when she showed off in front of pretty customers that Mystro was trying to rap to. She did it purposely to cock block, and shut her business down.
Mystro had no other option she had to be direct with her. She didn’t understand anything else, but she still tried.
“I’m asking, because I got tickets for the Kanye West concert next Saturday,” Chocolate continued. “You trying to go with me?”
“Fuck no,” Mystro answered. “Ain’t trynna step out with you, you know that.”
“You need to be a little more friendly,” Chocolate advised. “You might need me sooner than you think.”
“I’m good,” Mystro said, walking past the cream counter. She headed toward the back office.
“Hmph…we’ll see,” Chocolate added.
Before Mystro reached the back office, she could tell her boss was in there. The strong scent of Indian cuisine tickled her nose hairs. The aroma threatened to have Mystro recycle her breakfast. She pushed through anyway, and gently knocked on the closed steel office door.
“Come in,” Mr. Kadam stated.
Mystro walked inside. “How you doing, sir? I came to get my check, is it ready?” Mystro politely asked.
“Yes, yes, Mystro. I have it for you. Come in, and sit. I must speak with you.”
Damn, I ain’t sign up for all this
shit. Mystro thought. “Yes, sir,” she said as she sat in the empty chair across from Mr. Kadam’s desk.
“I know you requested this weekend off, but I need you to work. Chocolate has a previous engagement, and since she has seniority, I have given her off,” Mr. Kadam informed, in his heavy accent, as he shuffled through the white envelopes nervously, never looking up.
When he found Mystro’s paycheck, he handed it to her with his right hand, while pushing his black-rimmed bifocals up on his face with his left hand. Finally he gazed upon Mystro’s face awaiting her reaction to the bad news.
“Mr. Kadam, with all due respect, I have a prior commitment as well. I mentioned it in my interview, before I even took the job. You telling me it was cool was the only reason I was able to accept this position, over another offer I had.”
“I wish there was more I could do for you, but hands are tied.”
“Sir, this is throwing my plans off.”
“But Chocolate asked for time yesterday.”
“And, I asked for the time three weeks ago.”
“I understand your concern, but I need one of you here, and since she has been here longer, it is her who can be off. I hope you understand,” he replied.
Mystro took her silver and blue Dallas Cowboys cap off her head, exposing her fuzzy cornrows, and wiped her forehead trying to calm herself down. After a brief pause, she placed her cap back on and said, “Maybe I can work a couple of hours. And, Chocolate can cover for me later.”
“No she needs whole day.”
Mystro frowned. “You telling me this the day before my event. You not even willing to work with me?”
“She needs whole day, end of discussion,” he yelled. “Be here tomorrow!”
Mystro was stuck, but what else could she do?
“It’s cool, Mr. K. I’ll be here, no worries,” Mystro responded convincingly. She got up and glided towards the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Great, 7:00am,” Mr. Kadam finished. “Mystro, perhaps if you ask Chocolate nicely, she’ll work for you.”
