by Nikki Turner
Pooh watched as Tahj started to pee.
“Damn!” she yelled. “I got piss all over my hand. Get me a rag.” When Pooh turned to get Tahj a rag, she popped the cap on the valve and let the urine pour onto the stick.
Needless to say, when Pooh saw the pink, he forked over a grand to Tahj for her to get an abortion. Tahj had made a $900 profit off some pregnant bitch's piss.
Plus, after faking the abortion, she acted as though it had mentally fucked with her. Pooh started treating her like she was a queen, Nikki Turner or some shit. Tahj played right into it, too. For a minute there, besides Lee, Pooh was the only nigga Tahj would fuck with. Pooh was a big enough player in the game, which was Little League compared to the league Lee played in, that Tahj could get out of him what she couldn't even get out of three or four niggas. So the shit was sort of like a vacation to Tahj.
But when some nigga tried Pooh one night while he was out at the club, Pooh bladed that nigga, slit his throat. Said he talked too much, and now, without his vocals, he couldn't say shit. Believe it or not, the dude he sliced up didn't even die. The doctors said that if the blade had gone just one-tenth of a centimeter deeper, the guy would have lost his life. He may not have lost his life, but Pooh lost his freedom.
Tahj sat in her living room reading a letter out loud to this chick named Shea that Pooh had written her from jail. He had one of his boys bring it up to the shop to her one day while she was getting her hair done. His boys had been schoolin’ him on what the word was about Tahj on the street, how she was playin’ muthafuckas left and right. Pooh was on fire, to say the least.
“ ‘You ain't even brought your ass up here to see me once. On top of that, you won't take my calls on your celly’ ” Tahj read Pooh's words.
After reading the vicious letter, in which Pooh threatened Tahj's life and called her every chickenhead and stank whore name in the book, Tahj tossed the letter next to the stack of hundred-dollar bills that were sitting on the odd-shaped glass living room table that probably cost more than the average person's entire living room set. She had seen it in a magazine at the spot where she got her massages and facials. She knew nobody's crib would be rockin’ nothing like that, so she just had to have it. She had to have it so bad that she had Lee get it shipped all the way from the Mediterranean for her. Fuck wit’ dat!
Taking a pull from a blunt and then passing it onto Shea, Tahj said, “Fuck that mark-ass clown.” Tahj leaned over and picked up the bottle of red OPI nail polish and started to polish her toes. “I don't know what done crawled up in his ass. He must have dropped the soap again.”
The girls burst out laughing. Their laughter floated through the house and echoed off the high cathedral ceilings.
“Girl, you niggnorant,” Shea said as she finished off the blunt. She stood up from the square retro burnt-orange sofa and placed it in the ashtray. She then walked over to the full bar and helped herself to a glass of Remy on the rocks.
“Can you believe this muthafucka talkin’ all that rah-rah shit?” Tahj said.
“Hell, yeah, I can believe it,” Shea answered. ”What did you think Pooh was gon’ say when he found out how you was out here livin'? He probably feels like Snoop Dogg did in the movie Baby Boy. You let Jody take over your life and shit.”
“Bitch, you crazy.” Tahj chuckled. “That nigga don't know how I'm really livin'.”
“No, you da one crazy. He ain't get life, you know. That nigga gettin’ out one day, if you haven't forgot,” Shea said, sitting back down on the couch.
Tahj wasn't studying Shea's comments. Just as long as she was up under Lee's wing she was untouchable, so Tahj didn't worry about Pooh's jailhouse threats. She finished up her last coat of polish and started to blow on her toes.
“How much time he get, anyway?” Shea asked.
“Muthafucka got something like twenty-five years or some shit,” Tahj said, sucking her teeth. “Talking about beatin’ my ass when he get out. That nigga gon’ be using a walker and shit to get around by the time he hit them bricks again.”
“Oooh, you wrong for that,” Shea said.
“Get me a glass of orange juice,” Tahj ordered Shea, who immediately filled the request.
“Damn, Pooh got twenty-five years and shit?” Shea said with a sigh. “That's like forever. No wonder you sittin’ around like Bone Crusher, never scared and shit. He ain't gon’ be kickin’ yo ass doing twenty-five years. I know dat nigga's mind is all fucked-up.”
“Yeah. I'm sure it is,” Tahj said as a devilish grin came across her face. “Hand me that notepad in the kitchen by the phone. Bring me the pen, too.”
“Damn, ho,” Shea huffed. “Do I look like Florence the maid?”
Tahj gave Shea a piercing look. This raggedy wannabe-me ho sittin on my shit that cost more than her whole goddamn Section Eight town house, Tahj thought. She smokin my shit and drinkin my shit. Bitch lucky I don't ask her to come over and blow my muthafuckin toes like I had Keisha doing last week. I thought these hos recognized that by now.
“Why you lookin’ all serious?” Shea said, hiding the slight fear that was creeping up on her. “Girl, you know I was just playing.” Off she went, returning with the notepad and a pen.
“Good girl,” Tahj said, taking the contents out of Shea's hand.
“What you ‘bout to write?” Shea inquired as she sipped on her drink.
“I'm gonna write his ass a letter right back and take it to his boy to mail to him. I'm ‘bout to let his bitch ass have it. I'm gonna be the last bitch he ever sits down to write some ol’ fucked-up letter to again.” Tahj shot off an evil chuckle.
Shea shook her head. “Don't do that, Tahj,” Shea said. “Girl, just ignore him.”
“No, fuck that,” Tahj snapped, hating the fact that Shea was trying to piss on her parade. “I ain't thinking about him. He old news. That nigga always thought that just because he was holdin’ big paper he could treat people any way he wanted to. Look at him now. Fuck that nigga. It's my turn to floss on his ass now. How about that?”
As Tahj started writing, Shea just shrugged her shoulders. Fuck it. What did she care if Tahj pissed that nigga off? If that ho didn't know that a nigga with Pooh's status could reach out and touch a ho even from behind bars, that was her own stupidity. Shea didn't really give a fuck about Tahj's letter hurtin’ Pooh's feelings or nothing. She didn't really give a fuck about that at all. She just didn't want to see Tahj cut off the coattail she'd been able to ride on. Tahj had been unordinarily quite friendly with the stash Pooh had left behind for her. She didn't want to see her spontaneous shopping sprees, free trips to the spa, and free Coach bags come to an end. Other than that, what did she care?
CHAPTER FOUR
DEFINITION OF HUSTLIN’
“Hustlin’ ain't limited to one craft,” Tahj said to Shea as the two of them headed for the exit of the Red Lobster restaurant. They had just eaten a seafood feast as well as enjoyed a couple of margaritas. The meal was delicious and on point, but it was the worst meal they had ever eaten, let Tahj tell it. At least, that was what she had the manager convinced of, anyway.
She complained about every little thing that she could think of in order to get free food. She complained that the Cheddar Bay Biscuits were too cold, there was too much salt around the rim of the margarita glass, the meal took too long to be served, and that she had ordered vinaigrette dressing for her salad instead of the Italian dressing that was on it.
By the end of their meal, Tahj demanded to speak with the manager, relaying the complaints she had been making all evening long. When all was said and done, the manager ripped the bill up and gave both Shea and Tahj a free dessert on top of that. This was everything Tahj expected when she had planned her little act before she even entered the restaurant. Of course, Tahj had more than enough money to cover the bill, but she'd rather keep her money in her pocket, where it belonged. Couldn't stack the loot if you were spending it, so finding a way to get what you wanted for free was a hustle in itself.
“I just can't believe your ass hustled a free meal,” Shea said with a smile, shaking her head while admiring Tahj's skills.
Tahj stopped in her tracks. “Correction, bitch, two meals,” Tahj bragged as she continued her strut.
“Oh, my fault. I mean two meals, bit—” Shea said, catching herself, almost letting the word bitch fall off of her tongue.
The last time Shea had called Tahj a bitch, even though it was jokingly, the way Tahj called her one, Tahj mopped up the floor with her ass. Tahj hadn't gotten into many fights as a kid, but she had witnessed a couple of her older siblings beat enough asses to know how it was done.
Even though Tahj always called her girlfriends bitch or ho, their calling her a bitch was off-limits. The first and only time Tahj had ever been called a bitch was by her own mother, and those words cut like a knife. That night her mother had said plenty of nasty things to her, but that particular word played over and over in Tahj's head, sometimes waking her from her sleep. So Tahj was sensitive when it came to the B-word. She didn't give a fuck who was saying it—Tupac, Ja Rule, LiP Kim, or whoever. That word was like nails down a chalkboard to her.
“Anyway,” Tahj said. “Don't sleep on the hustle game. That's muthafuckas’ problems. Everybody wanna label they ass as a hustla but don't wanna do but one goddamn thing to make a come-up. Fuck that … lazy bastards. Everything you goddamn do in life should be a hustle. Everything!”
“I hear you,” Shea agreed.
“Here,” Tahj said, digging down in her Gucci purse and handing Shea the keys to her car. It was a nice li'l Gucci purse that Lee had bought her. Well, actually he had bought her one a size up, but Tahj took it back to the store, traded it for a smaller version, and kept the difference. “Go pull my car around. I'm too stuffed to even walk to it.”
Without hesitating Shea followed Tahj's orders, taking the keys, then heading to the rear parking lot, where they had been forced to park due to the Saturday-night crowd.
Tahj walked over and sat on one of the benches while Shea went and got the car. As she sat there rubbing her stomach, a couple walking through the parking lot heading for the door caught her attention. The girl was laughing and saying something to the guy she was with. It was dark, and Tahj didn't want to squint and stare, but she knew she recognized the girl's voice and was trying to figure out who it was.
She turned her head away as the couple made their way up to the door. She didn't want them to think she was muggin’ them or anything. The girl stood and waited for the guy she was with to open the door for her, and that was when Tahj decided to get a better look at them.
When Tahj turned around to put a face with the familiar voice, she saw Shondell, a hairstylist she went to sometimes at a shop called Cute Cutz. Shondell was there with a date, a tall, dark, fine-ass brotha with a bald head and a goatee. Tahj recognized him as well. He was Kel, the boyfriend of Lisa, one of the other stylists at Cute Cutz. He had come into the shop a couple of times to drop off some money for Lisa, bring her food, or whatnot. What was even worse was that Shondell was supposed to be Lisa's girl—for real, for real girl.
Tahj couldn't believe her eyes. Scandalous bitch, Tahj thought as a smile crept across her face. I think I like her now more than ever. Tahj didn't draw attention to herself. That was nothing new, though. If muthafuckas couldn't see her coming, they couldn't prepare for what she was bringin’ to the game.
Shondell and Kel went off to enjoy their secret meal together as Shea drove up in the car. A wicked grin formed on Tahj's lips as she stood up, walked over to the car, and got in.
“Why you looking all like the cat who just ate the bird?” Shea said.
“Oh, nothing,” Tahj said devilishly. “I was just thinking how I can't wait to go get my hair done Tuesday. Lee will be back in town by then, and I want to get an entire new look. I'm talking perm, sew-in weave, color, cut, eyebrow wax, the works!”
“Girl, that's doing too much,” Shea said. “All that gon’ cost you an arm and a leg, and here you didn't even want to spend money on shrimp.”
Tahj once again grinned. “But, oh, my friend, I got a feeling it ain't gon’ cost me a dime.”
“Oh, Lord,” Shea said with a sigh. “She's at it again.”
“You know how I do. Home, James,” Tahj said, pointing, ordering Shea to drive home. “By the way, it's canary.”
“Huh?” Shea said with a puzzled look on her face.
“It's the cat who swallowed the canary, not bird,” Tahj said. “And let's just say that come Tuesday morning, while I'm sitting in the chair at the shop getting my new attitude, I'm going to be coughing up feathers.”
The girls giggled as they drove off.
Come Monday, Tahj called Shondell on her cell to set up an appointment for Tuesday. Shondell sounded more than excited to give Tahj a complete makeover. All she could think about when Tahj gave her a list of all the services she wanted done was, Ching-chingl Tahj even asked Shondell if she would go get the hair weave for her, because she had never shopped for one before. Shondell agreed, assuming Tahj was going to pay her back for it. Bright and early on Tuesday morning, Tahj showed up at Cute Cutz.
“Hey, girl,” Shondell said to Tahj upon her entrance into the shop. Tahj could tell already that Shondell was about to lay out the red carpet for her. Shondell even came over and gave her a hug.
Damn, did this bitch see me spot her at Red Lobster and now she trying to play up to me? Tahj thought. She couldn't quite read Shondell yet. She didn't know if she was excited about the gig or if she was trying to play nice in order for Tahj to keep her mouth shut about her and Kel. But I know she didn't see me, Tahj thought. Fuck it. Let me just play this bitch close and roll wit’ it and see how this here plays out.
“Can I get you something to drink?” Shondell asked. “Coffee, water, soda, or something?”
“I'll take a soda,” Tahj said, heading for Shondell's chair. “Hey, Lisa,” she said, passing her along the way. “What's up, Tah-Tah?” she said to another stylist.
“Did you have a good weekend?” Lisa asked her, being personable and making conversation. Lisa was genuinely nice, just stupid as hell, in Tahj's opinion. Hell, you ought to be able to smell your best friend's pussy on your man's breath, Tahj thought.
“Here you go, ma,” Shondell said, handing Tahj a can of soda. Shondell was your typical Shanaynay-lookin’ stylist. She had braided extensions in her hair, long-ass acrylic nails, and wore stacks or stilettos to do hair in. Bitch was paid, though. ”Now, you know I ain't gon’ perm and color your hair. Honey child, I'd be sweeping your shit up off the floor. But what I did do was buy you some weave with blond streaks in it.”
“Okay,” Tahj said, positioning herself in the chair as Shondell started to put a plastic cap on her.
Six hours later, Tahj didn't even look like the same girl who had walked through the shop's door. Shondell had relaxed and deep-conditioned her hair. She clipped her ends and braided strands around her head so that she could sew the weave to it. Lastly, she sewed in the weave, cut it, and styled it.
“Oh, my God,” Tahj said, spinning the chair around to look at herself in the mirror. “Shondell. Oh, my God. It looks great.”
“Thank you, darling,” she said, proud of her skills as she removed the smock from Tahj. “I'm glad you like it. Now you won't mind paying me the three hundred dollars.”
Tahj started laughing. “Girl, you so crazy,” Tahj said, getting up from the chair. “Remember, I already paid you.”
There were no words to describe the look that came across Shondell's face. She put her hands on her hips and was getting ready to say something before Tahj jumped in.
“Remember? I gave you the money Saturday at Red Lobster,” Tahj said, just as serious as a heart attack. “Saturday at Red Lobster, when I saw you there with your date.”
By now Tahj was giving her the look, and it didn't take long for Shondell to understand the words behind it.
“Oh, yeah,” Shondell said in
a faded tone. “Saturday.” She swallowed. “Red Lobster. Me and my date.”
“Yeah, you and your date,” Tahj reiterated.
“I almost forgot that I even saw you there,” Shondell said, trying to maintain her composure. She damn sure hadn't prepared herself for this.
“Well, I'll never forget,” Tahj said, glaring into Shondell's eyes.
“I'm sure you won't,” Shondell said, now pissed that she had just laid Tahj's shit out, half doing her other customer's hair in between doing Tahj's, and now wasn't getting paid one red cent. But what could she do? Tahj had her right where she wanted her—on the bottom with her foot on Shondell's neck.
“All right, then, girl,” Tahj said as she tapped Shondell on the shoulder. “I'll call you in a couple weeks. I don't know how long I'm going to be able to stand all this hair,” Tahj said, running her fingers through her straight, mid-back-length hair. “I might have to have you take it out.”
Shondell's eyes watered. She could have spit fire, she was so heated. Instead, she took a deep breath, swallowed, and said, “Okay, then, girl. You have a good one.”
Tahj winked at her and headed out of the shop. Once she got into her car, she couldn't help but laugh. After laughing so hard that tears filled her eyes, she started up her engine. As she pulled off, she thought, That was too damn funny. Bet that ho will think twice before she lets somebody else's man wine and dine her ass.
But being the true hustla she was, Tahj had already started thinking up ways to get back at Shondell's accomplice. Kel wasn't getting off that easy. One day Tahj would figure out a way to hustle his ass, too.
In just a matter of months, Tahj was going through men like Jennifer Lopez. Unlike Jennifer, though, who was seeking the fairytale, happily-ever-after relationship, Tahj was seeking a nest egg. All she needed to get by was a couple of sugar daddies to cure her sweet tooth. She was young and had her whole life ahead of her. She knew her lifestyle wasn't a moral one and that it wasn't something she could do forever—nor did she want to—but like the stripper who was only going to slide her pussy down the pole just long enough to pay her way through college, it was a profitable one.
