by Corie Allen
Oh this is not happening, I thought I felt a knot in my stomach about this whole situation. I was confident they didn’t have anything on Rich, but this was getting out of hand. Now I see why they wanted to keep Rich so bad. I muted the television while I called in my order to Andrew’s Fish Market. My back was turned to the TV. As soon as I turned back around I saw Mr. Yilvo being taken by the police out of his office in handcuffs. I turned the volume up and just that fast they had cut to a different story.
Shit shit shit shit shit… they are fucking wit my life and fucking up my dream. They got me fucked up. I called my weed connect and walked to Andrew’s Fish Market.
We did that religiously, Rich and I. We ate from Andrew’s Fish Market and met up with our weed connect, Erik. We usually smoked on the way home unless it was too cold outside.
Erik was from Marcy projects. They was taking over Nostrand Ave. I fucked wit Erik when I first came back to the city. I didn’t think he remembered until he let on to it. I was walking out of Andrew’s Fish Market when he walked up.
“What up ma’, where ya dude at?”
“He not here why? Just give me my trees and keep it moving.”
Thats when he let me have it raw, right there in front of everybody.
“You smelling ya self a little bit too much lil’ bitch. Last year you was fucking and sucking all my niggas in the ‘jects for chicken wings and french fries. Don’t style on me whore. That nigga cleaned you up and got you gassed. That shit don’t mean nothing to me. You still the same bitch that could suck the bullet out a gun on safety, so don’t talk that fly shit to me.” I held the tears back, but I was truly hurt inside. My day and my week was already fucked up. I was frozen for a moment until I lashed back at him.
“Fuck you, dirty ass, broke ass pack boy. Get ya fucking weight up. Matter fact, fuck that dookey ass weed too. Fuck outta here you bitch ass nigga.”
The look in his eyes told me to shut my mouth. I stopped and went back into Andrew’s Fish Market. I sat down and ate my food there. I didn’t here from Rich all day or night. I was beginning to worry if something had happened, and then I thought, he’s probably in protective custody or something like that. I went to Mr. Yilvo’s office and it was shut down. He never appeared on the news again, neither did Rich. I tuned in everyday. I wish I could just talk to him or he could at least send me a letter.
Being lonely is crazy. The only thing I could do was eat, sleep, watch television, and shop.
I was down to the last five hundred dollars when it hit me. On my way to Fulton street, I checked the mail. The gas bill was two hundred, the electric bill was one-fifty, the cable was one-sixty, and the phone was fifty. I didn't even have enough to cover the utilities… and the rent would be due soon too.
All I could think of was the street. I couldn't go back to going place to place. I got a nice spot with my man, and I need to hold it down for him and for myself. Between the hawk being out out and my pride, I had to keep the spot.
I had nobody to turn to. No friends, no family. I was in the system since I was a toddler. I couldn't give a fuck about what happened or where my family was. As far as I was concerned, fuck ‘em, they gave up on me anyway.
With me on the run and all, how was I going to get a job. All I had was my Mineola High School ID. I needed a state ID and a social security card. I didn't even know the number.
I still needed to buy some food or my ass was gone starve… damn. Fuck Fulton street. I sat down on the couch and called Erik. I know I cussed him out, but shit, I needed to get high.
“Hello… oh what the fuck you want Mrs. High Power!”
“Come on Erik, I need some tree… I was bugging the other day”
“Oh you sound nice and sweet when you need a nigga, where you at?
“I’m on my way to Andrew’s Fish Market”
“Aight”
I walked out the door thinking fuck it. I may as well get high and start trying to figure out a plan, cause I was not going to be like I was last year, looking and waiting for a nigga to let me spend the night. I knew I was better than that. I stood outside Andrew’s Fish Market for fifth-teen minutes. If I didn't need the weed so bad I would of been left. Erik finally came walking up the street with some shorty.
“What up yo, you had me waiting long as shit, I need two dimes.”
I looked in her eyes and saw myself a year ago. She was young and pretty. I knew them Marcy niggas was probably running trizz on her. Not that I was eyeballing her but she had a ass bigger than mine, and mines is big. We had the same light brown complexion though she was a tad lighter than me. We were about the same size and height.
Erik took the twenty dollar bill out my hand. “So you extra nice now ma, you be lucky if I even serve ya ass.”
I could tell by the look in Erik's face that he was egging me on to say some shit to him. He wanted an excuse not to serve me. I know thats what he was fishing for and I was not going to give him the satisfaction.
“You did say my weed was dookey didn't you?” “Erik, you know I was just mad, I was stressing.” “Aight, but next time don’t let ya mouth write a check ya ass can’t cash.”
Jocelyn
“Damn that food smell good.”
I said as I watched Erik bust a trap. We stood in front of Andrew’s Fish Market. I hadn’t eaten all day. I watched him make small talk with the chick he’d just sold weed to. She had a bag in her hand with smoke rising out. I wanted to snatch the bag out her hand and run.
“Girl they got the best crab legs and shrimp, with butter and garlic.” She said
Her words made me even hungrier. I looked at Erik and plead my case.
“Erik, I’m hungry. I aint eat all day. I’m cold too, lets go eat inside.”
Erik snapped at me quickly.
“Jocelyn, shut the fuck up. You complain too much. Why this, why that, when this, when that… when I say bitch! You lucky if I feed ya thirsty ass. You gone wait ‘til my shift over and I got you.”
“But Erik, you could just get me some fries or something, come on.”
Again I tried to plead with him to buy me something to eat. I had been outside all day following him up and down Nostrand Avenue holding his weed and coke for him. I figured the least he could do was feed me. Instead he snapped and mugged me
“Fuck I tell you about nagging me bitch. I be wrong if I smack the shit out you. Fuck away from me whore. I’m done. Don’t come back down the jects either stinking ass bitch.”
Tears showered down my face as Erik walked off. I fucked up. Not only did I lose my place to stay, I was hungrier than them African kids. The girl Erik sold weed to stepped closer to me and wrapped her arm around me.
“You okay?” she said
“No… now I don’t have no where to go and I’m hungry as shit.”
“Here, you eat crabs?”
She passed me a bag with platters inside.
“Thank you.” I said as I grabbed the bag with one hand, and wiped my eyes with the other.
“So whats your name?” She asked me.
“Jocelyn.”
“I’m Akira… so Jocelyn where you from?”
I didn’t know what to say so I just made up something.
“Nostrand and Wilson.” I said. Akira burst out in laughter.
“Nostrand and Wilson don’t even meet!”
I put my hand on my head being duly embarrassed. “Okay you got me. I’m from Jersey. I ran away two weeks ago. I don’t even know where I’m at. I been between here and Marcy every day, that’s it.”
“Oh, how you know about Wilson Avenue?” “The dude that bought me over here from Jersey took me to a club up Wilson Avenue.”
“You can come chill wit’ me, fuck that nigga.” I smiled. I didn’t know where I was going or what I was gone do but at least I had something to eat and somewhere I could stay for the night.
“You smoke.” Akira asked me.
“Yeah” I replied.
Akira cracked and rolled a dut
ch as we walked to her house. We puffed along the way and once inside of the house. As the chills left my bones, I felt a sense of warmth. This was different. Someone actually did something for me without expecting something in return.
Akira’s house was nice. She looked young though. She looked close to my age or maybe a little bit older. I began to wonder whose house this was. After we’d finished eating snow crabs and mussels, I helped to clean up our mess.
It was nice to eat and chill in a nice crib and not have 4 or 5 different niggas trying to run down on me every night. Now all I needed was a bath and some sleep. I must admit I was dirty as shit. I hadn’t had a bath in 3 days. I had the same shit on. I took a few bird baths but I had been fucking like a racehorse. I needed to soak really good.
“Akira, can I take a bath?”
“Yeah girl, matter fact I got some shit you probly could fit. You look my size.”
Akira smiled and led the way upstairs. She went into the bathroom and ran water in the tub. She went into the cabinet and took out a towel, washrag, and a douche. She put the towel on a rack behind the door, the rag in the tub, and the douche on the side of the tub. I stood in the doorway watching.
Akira looked up at me.
“So who house is this?” I asked.
“Mine… and my boy, but he locked up. He’ll be home soon though.”
Akira said as she walked out of the bathroom and closed the door behind her.
I stripped down to my birthday suit and jumped into the bath. It was relaxing. I soaked a bit before washed and got out. I washed out my panties and bra and hung them on the shower rail. I hope she didn’t mind, but I needed to wash them out. No point in washing and putting dirty underwear back on. When I came out of the bathroom Akira was lying on her bed. I had the towel wrapped around me. She had some Love Pink sweat shorts and a sports bra laid out on the chair. I was about to slip on the shorts when Akira asked me.
“Aint you gone put some lotion on?”
“I guess so.” I said.
Akira got up and went over to her dresser. She had a crazy collection of Victoria’s Secret lotions and body sprays. She picked out strawberries and creme. When I thought she was about to pass me the lotion, she told me to lay down.
“What?” I questioned her, being shocked.
I wasn't into no dike shit. I didn’t want to tip though, especially because I needed a place to stay. If I had to let this bitch rub lotion on me then oh well. I let niggas run the train before so this really wasn't nothing. “Damn girl, I’m just gone rub lotion on you.” She said.
I grabbed her hand instinctively.
“That’s crazy, what you gay?”
“Naw, I just like putting lotion on.”
I laid down and rolled over on my stomach. I loosened up as Akira’s soft hands massaged the lotion onto my skin. I rolled over on my back and she rubbed lotion on my stomach. My nipples began to harden and my pussy started getting wet. I had never been touched like that by a female. I wasn’t gay or nothing, but that shit felt good. I couldn’t help myself, I started moaning. I called out to Akira.
“Akira.”
She stopped and looked at me.
“Akira, don’t stop.” I said as I placed my hand on my breast. Her hand was frozen. I was scared to ask her, but I had to.
“Akira can you rub lotion on my chest?”
Akira’s hands went in motion again. I looked in her eyes as she rubbed my breasts down with lotion. I slipped my hand behind her neck and pulled her closer to me.
Our lips touched. There was an awkward moment, then we both opened our mouths up to each other. Our tongues intertwined. Out fingers found their’ ways to each others wet spots. We fingered each other into ecstasy.
I couldn’t believe what I was doing and what I was feeling. It felt so good. I never thought about being with a female, but it was good. That shit couldn’t replace dick though.
The next morning I woke up refreshed. Akira was next to me smoking a dutch.
“What up?” I asked her.
“Chilling.” Akira replied as she passed the dutch. I puffed and we sat there talking for a few minutes. We didn’t talk about the night before. That was good. I didn’t have to feel awkward.
Over breakfast we talked about our lives. She told me about her and Rich. I told her I ran away from home in Jersey and become the Marcy smut of the week, just as she had done. I told her I ran away from my pimp and ended up at Marcy. Along the way I’d met quite a few ballers as well as some broke ass niggas. “So whats up wit’ some of those ballers, cause I need some bread… I got bills!”
I looked at Akira and smiled.
“I don’t know, but I did meet this dude down Wilson Avenue that own Club Wet. He told me I could have a job there if I want. You know how to get there?” “Naw bitch, I take cabs, we can go tonight.”
“It’s a strip club though, but fuck it, we need that bread.”
Aight, spark up another dutch then.”
We sparked up and smoked.
Akira
Club Wet was poppin’. It was a Friday night in February. There was a line of niggas at the door waiting to get in. Me and Jocelyn walked up to the door and the door man looked at us.
“Can I help you.” The door man said, as he looked us up and down.
Jocelyn cut him off as soon as he opened his mouth. “Is Kevin here.” Jocelyn asked.
“Yeah hold on… do you have an appointment?” He asked.
“He told me I could have a job.” Jocelyn replied. The doorman called Kevin on his cell phone. They spoke briefly and he let us in. He instructed us to go to the back and up the stairs. The door was open. As we walked into the club, I saw the first stage. A dancer was hanging upside down on the pole. There was three smaller stages with dancers collecting tips from salivating admirers. The bartender was even collecting tips. I could just smell the money in the air. Jocelyn walked into the room first. There was a guy sitting behind a desk. He a was dark skin fat guy. He took his attention from the security video monitors and fixed his eyes on Jocelyn.
“So you came back ma.” He said to Jocelyn.
She smiled.
“I need that job, I brought my home girl wit me too.” Kevin looked at me and smiled.
“You two are babies. I got you being no older than 17… you know I got a lot to lose, like my liquor license. I can’t put you on any of my stages. Why you wanna dance anyway?”
I was listening but I wasn't trying to hear that shit. “Look, we both fucked up, we need that gwap. I got a house and bills and shit… please.”
Kevin folded his hands on the table.
“Okay, I’ll let you do lap dances and dates.”
A female entered the room. I could tell she wasn’t the average stripper. She was fully dressed, dark chocolate complected, tall, and slim. She had two of the most perfectly rounded d-cups. They stood out like the twin towers. Her hair was long and silky, and her skin was smooth and shiny. The way she waltzed in was as if she owned the place.
She wore a pink Apple Bottom fitted dress that hugged her body like it was wet.
She walked over to Kevin and kissed him on his bald head. She looked us up and down and returned her attention to Kevin as he spoke.
“Coffee, I want you to meet my two new young bitches. Take these bitches to the dressing room and give ‘em the house rules. No stage time, just lap dances and dates in the VIP.”
We left the room with Coffee and she gave us a tour of the club. After touring the public part of the club, we toured the third floor where we quickly learned the meaning of the word “date”.
There was a bouncer in the hallway. He was guarding the entrance to eight private VIP rooms. Coffee opened up one of the rooms that was not occupied. We entered the room and she closed the door behind us. She sat on a black butter leather sofa.
“I’m letting you bitches know right now. This shit is about business. Kevin is your daddy and I’m his bottom bitch. You talk and answer to me and I talk and
answer to him. Don’t get the game fucked up. Go behind my back, and I’ll go upside your head… period. First rule: Daddy gets a hundred percent of everything. I don’t give a fuck if you find a dollar on the floor, it belongs to daddy. Don’t get fucked up over a dollar. You work six days a week and get paid a thousand at the end of the week. Charge sixty for head, a hundred to fuck, and two hundred for fetishes. Lap dances are twenty for two songs.
I was spinning in disbelief.
“Wait a minute Coffee, I just wanted to dance, that’s it.”
I could tell by Jocelyn’s facial expression that she felt the same. Coffee’s facial expression said she really didn’t give a fuck.
“Look bitch, this shit aint no daycare center, lap dances don’t pay the bills, and closed legs don’t get fed. I aint got time for bullshit. You either wit it or you not. Y'all got the game fucked up..”
“It’s just that I got a boyfriend, but he locked up. I don’t wanna cheat on him.”
Coffee laughed.
“Look bitch, I’m not your social worker, you want to get money or not?”
Jocelyn shrugged her shoulders in indifference. She looked at me and we both replied:
“Yes!”
Working at Club Wet was crazy. Some days I was so tired I could almost fall asleep in the middle of a lap dance.
Jocelyn was keeping up. Between the both of us, we pulled two thousand a week. Everything was good. As long as Kevin got paid, we got paid. Coffee even allowed us to do private parties too. The niggas loved us and the white boys loved us even more. At private parties we made Kevin so much money he decided to let us headline parties. We drew in more niggas and kept them coming back to the VIP.
Jocelyn was a horse. This was just a job for me… something temporary. Jocelyn was actually enjoying fucking five to six niggas a day. She was addicted to sex and this lifestyle.
