Lovely Vines. Tondria Leatrice
off the rack in the back of the shop that she hadn’t put out yet, and headed for her office. She picked out her outfit for the night, went to the liquor store, then headed home.
She got her workout clothes then headed straight to the treadmill, showered afterward, took a few shots, and got dressed.
*****
She couldn’t find a parking spot anywhere close, so she parked a block down the street, passing a couple on her way toward the club. Trying not to let them notice her looking at them argue, she tried walking faster. When the man pulled the lady’s hair shoving her into the car, she turned around and glanced at his ass. She wanted to keep it moving, but to see that the lady didn’t yell for help irritated her.
Jai said, “Stop hitting women, pussy!”
Woman’s voice said, “Mind your business, bitch!”
Jai said, “Dizzy ass!”
The man said, “Go on, bitch! Before you get popped!”
Jai stuck her middle finger up. “Fuck you!” she shouted. She wanted to turn around and leave, but she wanted to see Samaya do her thang.
She was so pissed that the lady defended him. All she thought about was her mother getting her ass beat, yelling for help. Their mother’s eyes were bruised up one day; then the next day she be hugging and kissing all on their father.
When she approached the door, the attendant looked her up and down as if she was lost. Pretty as Samaya was, she thought she was lost and looked at the business card again in disbelief.
The door attendant said, “Hello. How may I help you, miss?”
Jai said, “Hello, sir! How much?”
The door attendant said, “Fine as you are, it’s free.”
Jai said, “Thank you!”
The door attendant said, “Damn! Can I get your number?”
Jai said, “I have a man!”
The door attendant said, “He doesn’t have to know! Why is he letting you come here?”
Jai said, “First of all, I’m grown. Boy, bye!”
The door attendant said, “He still shouldn’t let you come to places like this.”
Jai said, “Just how, you don’t know me! He doesn’t let or tell me shit.”
The door attendant said, “Damn, ma! It’s like that? What’s your name, beautiful?”
Jai tried being polite, but he kept coming at her until the door slammed behind her. Before the door closed all the way, he got his last say in trying to whisper.
The door attendant said, “Have a good night, bitch!”
She couldn’t let that shit go because that was one of her most disliked words coming from a man. She turned around so fast to open the door it almost went off the hinges.
The door attendant said, “Coming back for more?”
When she chuckled, he knew she was about to say something from how her face looked. “Let me tell you something. You short, stocky, ‘coming to my chest, closer to the ground than me’ fucker. Maybe you should get on all four since you’re the closest to the fucking ground, doorkeeper. Now, bitch that! Now have a nice night, pup,” Jai said in one breath.
The door attendant said, “Go on, before I bite your sexy ass. Woof, woof!”
She rolled her eyes and pushed by the door again. As soon as the door closed, her phone was beeping like a muthafucka. When she saw it was Chuck, she ignored his hootchy-kootchy-eating ass and went straight to her contacts and blocked his number for the night.
A dancer said, “Would you like a dance?”
Jai said, “Maybe later, thank you!”
The bartender said, “What can I get for you?”
Jai said, “Double shot of top-shelf tequila. Thank you!”
Chapter 2
Queen
Queen Is My Street and Stage Name
Queen’s mom died in the streets as soon as she had the twins at seventeen. Queen was only two, and her brother Kendrick was one.
Queen was too young to remember her daddy or what his face looked like due to his magical disappearing act.
She heard he turned her mama out and had some bullshit traveling sales job selling whatever was popular on the streets. I’m turned out easily by the pole like my mama, and showing off my goods is making me popular like whatever Daddy doing, she thought, walking onto the stage.
*****
Trying to flame the thought away on how this man’s street role could be more important than to raise his own got damn children pushed her further away.
It blew her like the flame she blew in the air, thinking of different dance moves, hustling options, and the role she played, helping Granny in any way.
When their grandmother Liz moved to North Carolina, she took Tara, Kendrick, and the twins, Kacee and Kasie, with her.
Queen sent her granny money every month for them since their parents were still lost, which made shaking her ass simple.
She also understood why her mother ran away from her grandma Liz’s strict house rules, but to abandon your children, she never understood.
Watching the streets take hold of her parents instead of them taking hold of responsibilities made Queen hate both her parents.
Hearing the horror stories from her aunts made the shots go down smoother, but running from your children, she could never understand, and that alone made her not want any or anything to do with her birth givers.
Their grandma Liz didn’t play when it came to rules under her roof. She locked the doors at seven thirty, homework completed by eight, and no boys were calling her house phone. That alone pushed Queen to run behind Samaya.
Running the streets with her cousin Samaya was all she knew, and being hungry made the hustle come easy until the easy hustle took her brother Kendrick. That meant no more homeless, hungry-ass nights and chasing bums down alleyways, and she still got money as it came by, making the hustle more straightforward as she crawled on all fours.
The phones she sent the twins to keep in contact with her they used every day to call her for Kendrick. The twins reminded her of their eighteenth birthday approaching, so approaching the edge of the stage came with ease.
Hearing their voices made her hustle even harder, going onto the stage with all smiles, doing the splits to get a quick dollar, knowing her siblings wouldn’t suffer as she did. She did what needed to be done by any means necessary, wishing their parents would participate and make necessary moves.
Whenever Queen heard the operator end the call with Kendrick, that made her end the night with putting money on his books, and she didn’t care if it came from Merch, VIP, or the pole.
Queen always wanted her own money, crib, and clothes because she got tired of stealing shit.
After sleeping in cars on long cold and hot nights, twerking on that stage half naked with pride to get a quick dollar meant no more running the streets broke. But, I do be cold as hell on this stage in the winter months, Queen thought.
She never had options to ask her parents for shit or help from family, so that alone made her grind even harder and not deal with that friend shit. Therefore, going to work became her bestie with unwanted developed friendships with peekaboo, “let me see the dollar” boo-boos.
Asking clients if they wanted a private dance was more accessible than writing down what she wanted to be accomplished in the next five years because the money came that easy.
Queen