The Legend of Johnny Hustle: Crown Me King

by Zach Tate

  “And how do you know all of this? You wanted to go?” I asked, sounding insecure.

  “This White girl used to work for Cashmere told all of us on the Ave. Said she went out to Cali and was living it up. The minute she didn’t keep her word, they threw her out, and she had to hitchhike her way back here. They don’t play no games, and they don’t like streetwalkers. All they women is call girls, fashion models, and ex-movie star type girls. You can learn a lot about the game from him. I’m not trying to tell you what to do, I’m just trying to look out for my man.”

  My mind started clicking after that. I sat back and thought of a whole new hustle I knew nothing about. Then I thought about Gloria and Crissy and how I could get all women to respect me. I asked myself how I could be king of Times Square if I didn’t know something about every hustle. Cashmere was a master, and I came to the conclusion that it was time for me to be a student again.

  Red disturbed my thoughts. “Hey, sugar? Roxy is gonna spend the night in my room. Joy thinks you’re mad at her. She’s out here having an emotional fit, so I told her that she could spend the night with you.”

  I looked her in the eye and snapped. “You’re asking me or you telling me?”

  She took a deep breath, stepped in closer, and said, “Johnny, I respect you, know this. You are the first man to get that, okay? Just be calm, baby; I was asking you. I heard your speech and I wouldn’t undermine what you’re trying to do. A man should control his household. I’m a country girl; I know how it goes. Just please continue to respect me. I was asking you, sweetheart.” She closed the door with her last words.

  I ignored her and slipped under the covers. My emotions were mixed and my mind was spinning. When I was about to doze off, I felt the load of heavy weight getting into the bed.

  “Daddy, please don’t be mad at me,” Joy said, reaching between my legs.

  At first I didn’t like the ‘daddy’ thing, but her term of endearment was a new turn on for me and I stiffened in her hands. Her head sunk under the sheets, and her lips fastened all over my manhood. Her tender expertise was appreciated. I could feel the tension leaving my body.

  She slipped the condom on, and then mounted me for the first time. When I was all the way inside of her, an inferno of heat consumed my shaft. Her big legs comforted me, her hot body put me at ease, and the size of her huge breasts was a pleasure to my tongue. That night I learned why making love to big women was a great secret, and I planned on keeping it to myself.

  $$$

  On Saturday night, I was in the suite feeling lonely. Red was in her bedroom with a cold and she didn’t want me near her. I had sent Roxy, Buffy, Tweety, and Joy on a mission. The maitre’d called up and told me that their services were needed for over fifty men that came in for a Compact Disk convention. Most of the computer geeks wanted sex and were willing to pay big money for it, so I felt better knowing the girls were indoors.

  Since I didn’t know where I wanted to go, I picked up the phone, called the Plaza Hotel, and reached Cashmere. I asked him what he was up to and he told me grab a fur, put on my dancing shoes, and meet him in front of the hotel.

  While standing in the lobby, I was approached by the maitre‘d and a fine young Latino woman. The maitre‘d explained to me that the woman could take Gloria’s place in taking care of things. I had nothing to lose in the matter so I agreed, trying to figure out how they knew Gloria and I had a falling out. I remembered that I was in Times Square, and anything was possible.

  Once my short meeting was over, I waited in the lobby looking for Cashmere’s Benz. Instead, an all black Rolls Royce Corniche pulled up. I stepped out when I saw his fur hat. He rolled down the window, called me over, and I jumped in the car.

  “Damn, man, this is nice,” I told him, sounding like a kid in a candy store.

  “I’m just playing the part tonight, this is Pierre’s. But he never uses it ‘cause he tired of New York.”

  When he pulled off, I wanted to check the story Roxy told me, so I said, “So he stay out in Cali all the time?”

  “Indeed. We got us a five million-dollar estate up at Mullholland Drive. Eight bedrooms and ten baths. All legit. Me, Pierre, and the best playa on the West Coast, Spanish Romeo.” He hit the dashboard with his hand and shouted, “Playa-playa. Romeo, he the man dog.”

  I wanted to see how far I could go. “I think I heard of him, he from Miami?”

  Cashmere was filled with excitement. “Man, we got a penthouse down there in Miami? Indeed, Romeo knows how to do life man. And Pierre? He the only player on record that played in Paris and Italy. He did Milan, Rio, Morocco, and back in the days, he was playing in Cuba man. Cuba! They know how to ball out there in them spots, and one day I’ll be ready for them.”

  “Ready how?” I asked, wanting to be ready myself.

  “You know, raise up in the game. Get my speech together, get my mind right so I can hang out with them rich broads and speak that rich language. I’m already ghetto rich, but it’s a whole world out there, playa, and the only thing that can stop me is me.”

  I thought of Pierre. “Pierre must have did a lot of pimping to live in a mega five estate.”

  “Oh no, playa. I told you we ain’t pimps. Listen closely. A woman, either rich or poor, got things that need to be satisfied. A rich woman don’t want no poor man ‘cause she can do bad by her damn self. A rich woman ain’t gone give a man something that she know he can’t relate to, or that she don’t feel he worth. Ain’t no way you can ask a woman for something and get it, unless she feel you worth it, or got to offer more than she got. A rich woman don’t want no man with just potential, because in her book, potential means you ain’t doing a damn thing right now.”

  Again Crissy popped into my head. I shook her out of my thoughts and listened to Cashmere’s sermon.

  “What we know is—we rich even if we ain’t got a dime. We know that we ain’t settling for less, and that out there is some women that got everything in they life except a good man. Money don’t make them happy, but we can. Pierre had a rich chick that took care of him. He took care of her, and when she died, it was either leaving ten mill to her cat Scruffy, or to Pierre. We see who got the paper, huh playa?”

  The car stopped, and we were parked at a club named Bentley’s on 43rd Street between Fifth and Park Avenue. The line went around the corner, and Cashmere parked right out front. When we exited the car, we walked straight in, dressed to impress. Under his full-length mink, Cashmere wore a black cashmere suit with a black silk and cashmere polo sweater. On his feet was a pair of crocodile shoes. I had on thick brown Guess corduroys, a brown knitted Coogi sweater, and a pair of brown Sergio Rossi loafers with buckles on the side. My mink was draped around my shoulders, and I was ready to dance all night long.

  The club was packed with a mature crowd. When Entouch’s, Too Hype came on, I started running to the dance floor, but Cashmere held me back. A bottle of Cristal was placed in front of us, and he began his schooling.

  “We different from the rest, playa. Take a good look around you. A playa’s best company is himself. Look at all these women sweating you. You think they got something to offer? They here trying to pick up a man that’s gonna solve they problems, and we looking for a woman that can solve ours. Now, when them gold diggers come at you, what you gonna say? A playa always knows what to say because you gotta out-think a scandalous broad. They always looking for a weakness, and if you can’t out-think them, they will hustle you before you ever hustle them.”

  As he sipped on his champagne, I thought about how Crissy did me wrong. He tapped my leg. “We here to have fun, but I don’t want you to cramp my style. What I want you to do is tell yourself that you the best thing walking on this planet, and not one of these women is worth your time. Like watch this.”

  The best looking woman in the club was heading our way. She wore a purple, one-piece mini skirt outfit. She had long hair, and wore large, gold, doorknocker earrings. Security surrounded our tables and Cashmere tol
d the muscle-bound men to let her in. When she stepped over, she looked at Cashmere and asked, “Excuse me, don’t I know you from somewhere? What’s your name?”

  Cashmere gently pulled her by her hands and sat her on the small table between us. He leaned over so I could hear him.

  “Hey love, if you knew me you would have never forgotten me, and you would be broke because my name is expensive. Unless you bringing me a bottle of champagne or some cash, you out of line.” He then gently helped her up. “I’m talking to this playa right now, so I’ll play with you later. Run along now, when I’m ready to dance, come find me.”

  I was stunned. It must have registered on my face, because Cashmere looked into my eyes and laughed. “Good looks don’t pay no bills. A queen don’t solicit her king. She shows him what she got to offer.” He looked out onto the dance floor and pointed to all of the women. “The one way to chase a broke bitch away is to ask her for something. We high maintenance, playa!” He shook his head like his dog died. “How the hell all these hoes got men paying they way through life, when it’s less of them than us, is beyond me. But that’s the life of a lame. In a woman’s life, let her take care of the simple things and you take care of the rest.” He stood and straightened out every wrinkle of his clothes and I did the same. Then he leaned over to me. “We gonna dance, and we gonna leave. Just remember, ain’t no woman in here worth your time. Show them that.”

  He stepped onto the dance floor alone. He spread both of his arms out to his side like he wanted to hug the huge crowd. Then he looked up to the disco lights. After getting everyone’s attention, Cashmere brought his head down to the eye level of the women waiting to dance, and pointed to the woman from earlier. Without hesitation she and her girlfriend joined us on the dance floor.

  Warm It Up Kane, by Big Daddy Kane blasted through the speakers and we started to grind. The place was rocking. We danced for an hour and a half straight. While we danced, my eyes stayed on Cashmere. He didn’t cease to amaze me. Cashmere reached under the gold-diggers miniskirt until he removed her panties. After wiggling her way out of her thong, she pounded what her mama gave her against his cock as his hand slid under her miniskirt.

  Cashmere pulled the woman closer to him as his fingers dug into her, keeping in step with the music. She rhythmically moved to the music and humped his fingers into orgasm. When her eyes closed from an orgasmic explosion, she clawed at his back and tried to kiss him. He stopped suddenly. With an audience watching, Cashmere put his smelly hand under the gold-digger’s nose and then gently pushed her away.

  He and I walked off the dance floor to retrieve our coats, and the gold-digger followed. We swallowed what was left in the champagne bottle, and like an obedient dog, the gold-digger stood by Cashmere, waiting for her command.

  “Baby girl, you got ten grand in your pocket?” Cashmere asked his newest fan. When her eyes dropped to the ground and her head shook from side to side, Cashmere squealed then rubbed the fingers that held her scent. “Goodbye, bitch,” he dismissed her and she fell apart.

  “What—what happened? Can’t I come with you,” she begged in distress.

  Cashmere draped his mink on his back, and placed the finger that he had inside of the woman back to her nose. In his squeaky voice he barked, “Smell that. These smell like cash to you, bitch? What you got to offer, every woman got, so beat it.”

  My eyes had seen the glory and the coming of a don. I could not believe that he was bold enough to handle the gold-digger the way he did. But I was in for another surprise. I draped my mink on my back and walked out of that club like I owned the planet. When we stepped outside, Cashmere was opening the car door, and I heard, “John! John! That’s you John?”

  I turned around and saw the one person that I needed to see in the company of Cashmere. It was Crissy. She was busting her way through the crowd. With Cashmere standing next to me, I immediately knew that I had to put on a show. So while the pimp soundtrack played in my mind, I made a spectacle of myself. I faced her, brushed my shoulders off, and then asked, “What?”

  Crissy was happy and excited. She looked at me from head to toe. She then looked behind me at the Rolls Royce. She licked her lips and sashayed her way to me.

  “I knew that was you,” she said, while rubbing the fur that made my coat. Then she looked at the car. “Wow, what happened to you? I went back to our apartment looking for you, but you wasn’t there. I miss you.” I knew a lie when I heard it.

  I scanned her up and down. Then I spit on her shoes. “First of all, you too broke to be calling my name all out in public.” I then brushed off my mink. “Second of all, dig yourself. I don’t give no explanations. As for third? You ain’t worth the air it takes to give an explanation, so beat it.”

  “Give me one more chance, John, please?” she was always persistent.

  I looked over at Cashmere, who watched intensely. Then I gave Crissy a taste of her own medicine. “Crissy, you so-so-sorry. If you ain’t got nothing to offer, you wasting my time. When your pockets get phat, come down to the square and ask for Johnny Hustle. In the mean time, brace yourself bitch!”

  Crissy grew roots in her feet. The only thing that moved on her body was her eyes watching me in shock. I walked over to the Rolls Royce and her eyes almost fell out of her skull. She rushed to my window and started yelling, “Lenox Terrace! Come see me, I’m sorry, John.”

  Cashmere drove away congratulating me on the fine job I did.

  14

  The Drama

  Everything ran smooth during the weeks leading up to Christmas. Roxy and Joy made good money. Joy took control of the women on the Ave. She formed a semi-union, telling the women that I would take care of them if anything went wrong. So, instead of paying a pimp, they gave their money to Joy, and she gave it to me.

  It was a week before Christmas when Red dropped a bomb. She had performed her daily run up and down the stairs, and finishing up her one-thousandth-stomach crunch when she said, “I got a job.”

  “What you mean a job?” I asked.

  “I mean a real job,” she said, enthused.

  “You squaring up on me, Red?”

  She answered while getting undressed and getting into the shower “No. Well, sorta. But I can’t tell you. I don’t want to jinx myself.”

  I walked away and waited until she finished in the shower. “How you gonna jinx yourself if it’s legit?” I asked, watching her dry off.

  “All I can tell you is, it’s down on Canal Street and I start work in two hours. They needed help for the Christmas rush, so I took the job. I have to go down to the salon so I can be ready, I’ll be right back.”

  “Whatever, Red; whatever,” I said before someone knocked on my door.

  Gloria stood there when I opened the door. As she stepped in, Red greeted her and headed for the elevator. Gloria turned to me and slowly shook her head. “You didn’t have to do that.”

  It took awhile, but word must have gotten to her late that I had everyone in the hotel paying the Latino woman instead of her. The schooling I received from Cashmere came to mind.

  “Yeah, I had to do that. She’s grateful that a man like me can do things for her. You’re expendable. You didn’t understand your role in this whole thing. What you think, you somebody?”

  With her hand to her mouth she asked, “How you gone cut me off? We only had an argument, look.” She held a roll of bills in her hand.

  “Too many days and too many dollars short,” I said.

  She closed her eyes and put her head in her hands. She then walked over to me and tried to reach for my zipper. When I pushed her hands away she said, “I’m sorry honey, let me make it up to you. Come on and take your clothes off.”

  “You really want to make it up to me?” I asked, while the wheels were turning in my head.

  “Just tell me what to do?” she said, getting on her knees.

  I was firm and remembered that I couldn’t settle for less. “It’s been crowded in my suite and you didn’t even
have the decency to tell me that they had three bedroom suites up in here? I need a presidential suite up on a higher floor. I don’t care who you got to pay, but make sure I move. Make sure my ladies have everything they need, and if I find a dirty cup up in here, you’re cut off. I also expect you to move everything up there by your damn self.”

  “Okay—okay. Just take the money and let me get a little something-something. I miss you honey.”

  I looked down on her. “Your cash is too short. Do something with yourself. When you get five grand, come back and see me.”

  She left the room brooding.

  $$$

  I grabbed the money that Roxy and Joy gave me the night before, and headed over to the Virginia Theater on 52nd Street. I banged on the stage door and saw the man PeeWee sent me up to see. I handed him the cash, and he handed me a backstage pass. After receiving instructions, and six front row tickets, I left.

  When I returned to the suite, Red was dressed, but everything was different about her. She had turned into a blue eyed brunette.

  “What’s that all about?” I asked, suddenly turned on. I knew she was my woman, but she looked like someone else.

  “It’s for the new job, Roxy inspired it. Now you have two women with blue eyes. I think it’s sexy. I also think I’m gonna sport this look from time-to-time. Do you like?”

  While holding my pants, and my new erection, I said, “Most definitely. I like how you did that.”

  She kissed me, licked on my lips, and said, “I’m going to work, but I’m going to miss you. Be good to me later please? I promise to be anything you want me to be. I’ll be thinking about you all day.”