krazelyricks
08-16-2004, 09:45 PM
Hi fam, I decided to add another person to the ghetto church scene. This chapter is told from the stand point of a young girl named Nikki. This is kind of long but I promise you it's worth your time. It's filled with even more comedy than the first and of course more of the hard core truth. :spin:
“Sistah Evans, may I speak with you for a moment?” Brotha Richards grabbed my arm.
Aw hell, what does this brotha want?
I had went out with him last week for dinner. I swear, it was the most boringness night of my life. Shoot, I’m a twenty one year old. I need a little spunk in my life. I don’t have time to be sitting at a dinner table talking about glory halleluiah this and glory halleluiah that. I ain’t got time for no boring @ss life like that. To be honest, the only reason I come to church is because I was raised like that. Grandma Ann, god rest her soul, took me to church every Sunday three times and four times on the third Sunday. Growing up like that you would have thought I was saved and sanctified, right? Well, hell naw, I ain’t nowhere near that. I’m blessed to make it to church once a week if I make it then. You see, I’m the type of sistah that goes with the flow. That’s why, well I’m a stripper. No, don’t nobody know that here, and hopefully they neva will find out.
Anyway, back to Brotha Richards. Brotha Richards is a twenty two year old church fraud if you ask me. Ain’t nobody at my age into the bible that much. Who does he think he’s fooling? Well, it ain’t me. That’s for sure. Brotha Richards talks a good game when he’s around Pastor Richards but I know there’s a different person inside him. You know how I know? Well, because he tried to get into my panties after the first date. That’s right, he tried to get up in me. We talked all night about the bible, well he talked and I just listened, and then he tried to mizzle his way into my house. He must have heard about what I did from some of his guy friends and thought that I was easy. Well, I ain’t nowhere near easy. Well, at least not with somebody like him. He can kiss my natural black @ss if he thinks that. Did I happen to mention that he was fat, black, and ugly? Well if I didn’t, I just did. How in the hell did he even think he had a chance with a sistah like me? I might dance all up on ugly men at Magic City but after I clock out I’m on my own time. I pick who I want to be with.
I smiled despise the fact that I wasn’t feeling him. “Yes, Brotha Richards?”
He just stood there. Look, church service was long today and I’m ready to take my black @ss home. Say something bruh if you’re going to say something.
He finally spoke. “Well, I wanted to apologize about the other night. I know I was wrong about what I did and I hope that doesn’t hurt anything between the two of us.”
Yeah, and exactly what was between the two of us?
I chuckled. “Look Brotha Richards, understand what I’m about to tell you. I mean it. Listen clearly.” He shook his head. “Last week, what happened between the two of us was nice. It was nice while it lasted at least, but right about now I don’t see anything between the two of us. I don’t even think I want to see that side of you anymore. Please, let’s just keep our relationship in the church setting only.”
He scratched the back of his head. I swear, you would have though he was actually hurt. Did I actually hurt this brothaz feelings? Well anyway, tough luck.
“Okay, I guess I can deal with that sistah. It’s up to you.”
“Yeah, I’m glad you feel that way Brotha Richards.” I smiled and walked away.
I mean, what was the use of standing there and we had nothing to talk about? I know he was still looking at me but shoot, I had to roll out.
“Sistah Evans!” Someone yelled as I made my way out the door.
Oh lawd, can a sistah just make it out of church without everybody calling her name?
I turned around slowly. I was tired as I don’t know what and I was really just ready to hit the sack. I had a long @ss night at the club and well I was about ready to cuss whoever it was out. But when I looked back, I couldn’t help but place a fake smile on my face. It was Mother Blake. Mother Blake was a eighty two year old saved and sanctified mother figure. She is a person that I really looked up to. She reminded me of my Grandma Ann. They were both saints of the church and always willing to help a person in need.
“Oh, hi Mother Blake. How are you this glorious day?” I said walking towards her.
“Great, Sistah Evans. I hear that your fiance died a couple months ago. Are you okay doll?” She went to hug me but held me back so she could see my face.
I smiled again. “Yes, ma’am. Everything is looking up for me. And I been yet holding on.”
She pushed me in for a hug. “Amen, sistah. I teach all my children that same philosophy.” She smiled.
“Yes, ma’am and it’s a good philosophy to go by. Well, how are your children?”
“They’re great. You know Gail just had a baby. Mark just got a promotion. Amber is going to school this fall. Brian is graduating from Wake Forest this summer. Alvin, my poor Alvin, just lost his wife. I keep telling these children......”
Oh lawd, why did I even have to go there? Mother Blake had twelve children and every time you asked about one she told you about all of them. D@mn, at this rate I will neva make it home.
“Sistah Evans, you alright baby?”
She kicked me out my trans. “Oh, yes ma’am. I’m just tired, that’s all.” I smiled.
“Well, I’m going to let you go. You know we’re having the Pastor’s brunch next Monday. Are you going to be able to make it?”
“Yes Mother, I’ll try.”
“Good, I’ll see you later sistah.” She hugged me and went her on her merry way.
Finally, I was going to be able to make it out the door. I rushed out. I swear, when these church folks see you don’t have anybody to talk to they will break their neck to get by your side. I been dealing with this for years. You would have thought I was used to it. Well, I am and on any other Sunday I would have been one of those other folks, but not today. I was tired and my feet were killing me. I knew I shouldn’t have worn any stilettos.
I walked to my black 1996 Civic with my shoes half on.It wasn’t much and to be honest I could have had a better car with the salary I made at Magic City but I wasn’t too much stuck on material things. All I had to have a car for was to get from point A to point B. You know I’m lying, right? I had another car at home in the garage but I wouldn’t dare bring that car to church. I would be the subject of all the church gossip. I had a black 2003 Cadillac Escalade. It was hyped up too. I had it on some twenty two inch spinners, the latest Pioneer system, and the paint was flawless. But my old Civic was my baby. I rode it way more than the Escalade. I just rode the Escalade when I went to the clubs so I didn’t have to stand in line. You see, in Atlanta only the high rollers get into the hottest clubs. I don’t know why, it’s just like that. And guess what? I just so happened to be one of those.
When I got into the car, the first thing I did was pull off my stilettos. Those bad boys were killing my toes. I already had a corn and that was the last thing I needed. Opps, did I say corn? I meant long toe nails. Anyway, don’t be talking about my toes. I’ll have to holla at cha.
I slowly crept out the church parking lot. I had the tunes turned to 9.75, the new gospel station. I wouldn’t dare play what I really wanted in the church parking lot. That just wasn’t me. I wasn’t about to get struck down by God for playing a song that called woman ******* and men ******. Uh-Uh, no way, no how. As soon as I made it to the first stop sign though I ditch the gospel and put in my favorite T.I joint. T.I was straight representing for the city of ATL and well I had to give the brotha his props. In my eyes he was the king of the South.
Riding down Bankhead, my phone. “Whas up? Who dis?”
“Tray, whas up?”
“Oh, whas up dawg?” I smiled.
You see, Tray was my cut buddy. I know you’ve heard of a cut buddy before. Well, for all you lames out there that haven’t, it’s just somebody that you have sex with without the headaches of a committed relationship. We kept it real between each other. He saw other woman and well I saw other men. I didn’t want to be tied down and he didn’t either. We started out like that and I guess we will finish that way too.
“Ain’t nothing, so we hooking up tonight?”
“Naw, I got to be at the club. Believe it or not the club still gets lots of business on Sunday too.”
“Word?”
“Double word.” I laughed.
“Well, aiight. When you want to get together then?”
“Let’s try tomorrow at eight. Bring some whip cream too.” I laughed deviously.
“You lil’ freak. But I’m digging that though. See you then.”
“See you then.”
“Aiight, peace.”
“One.”
Being a stripper you would have thought I had had enough freaky ***** at my job, right? Hell naw, dancing up on ugly @ss men for a quick dollar is hardly something I would call satisfying. A girl my age gots to have what most girls have and that is sex. I crave on it. But I chose who I want to do it with. I don’t just do it with anybody either. Sometimes I chose to go into committed relationships and well they still can’t satisfy me. I have to get cut buddies (i.e Tray). Tray, well my Tray, he knows how to freak it just right. I prayed to god for him to send me somebody that can work it like Tray and that is ready for a committed relation but um......it just ain’t working. I guess, I got a lot more of this to do.
“Mama! Mama!” I called into the house.
My mama was never at home. She was a dead beat mama. She used men for a dollar and then she used the money they gave her to get high. I love smoking weed and that gets me high but that doesn’t seem to be enough for my mama. She has to have her crack. She tried that junk and now she’s hooked. I had her staying with me and it seemed like everyday something was missing. The only reason I was letting her stay with me was because I promised Grandma Ann that I was going to keep the family together. Lawd knows, this lady ain’t neva did a d@mn thing for me. She was always having her a good time while I cried and *****ted in my diapers at home. Let me stop, I know that was a little too graphic for you but ***** my mama brings that out in me.
I walked upstairs to my room. Yes, a sistah does have upstairs and downstairs. That’s an accomplishment for somebody like me. I came straight from Bowin Homes and now I got a four bedroom house just for me and my mama. Shoot, this was living luxury for me. I had it going on. Don’t hate!
I flopped on my king sized bed and looked over at my blinking answering machine. Dang, twenty five messages. Who could be wanting to get in touch with me that bad? I pressed the button to see who it was.
“Yes, Ms. Evans. This is the Fulton County Police Department and well I’ve been trying to get in touch with you since last night. Can you please give me a call as soon as possible? My name is Detective Rodger Hines. And my telephone number is.......”
Now, you know I wasn’t going to give you that man phone number.
I cut off the answering machine because the rest of the messages were from him too. It seemed as thought they got more urgent as they went on. I wondering what the hell a detective would want with me? All my junk was legit. I got my house, clothes, cars, all from the same salary. I had my license to dance and everything. So, what is this about?
I called the number he had left with me. “Hello, Fulton County Police Department. This is Detective Rodger Hines speaking. May I help you?”
“Yes, this is Nikki......I mean Nicole Evans. You called me this morning. I’m just returning your call.”
“Oh yes, Ms. Evans. Um, I don’t know how to tell you this but......” He paused as if he was trying to find the right words to say.
“Yes?”
“Well, your mother was found last night behind a liquor store. She died of a drug over dose. I’m regret having to tell you this but.....”
Oh my god.......
I didn’t hear another word he said. I just dropped the phone where I stood. There was nothing he could say that could ease my troubled heart. My mama didn’t take care of me and she was never there but I felt that part of my heart was gone. Mama may have been a junkie and a druggie but she was my mama. She was the only family that I knew. She never understood me but she was that person I could always count on to argue with, that person that was always there when I was sick, and that person that always told me she loved me whenever she was by my side.
D@mn, why did all this have to happen to me on Sunday?
“Sistah Evans, may I speak with you for a moment?” Brotha Richards grabbed my arm.
Aw hell, what does this brotha want?
I had went out with him last week for dinner. I swear, it was the most boringness night of my life. Shoot, I’m a twenty one year old. I need a little spunk in my life. I don’t have time to be sitting at a dinner table talking about glory halleluiah this and glory halleluiah that. I ain’t got time for no boring @ss life like that. To be honest, the only reason I come to church is because I was raised like that. Grandma Ann, god rest her soul, took me to church every Sunday three times and four times on the third Sunday. Growing up like that you would have thought I was saved and sanctified, right? Well, hell naw, I ain’t nowhere near that. I’m blessed to make it to church once a week if I make it then. You see, I’m the type of sistah that goes with the flow. That’s why, well I’m a stripper. No, don’t nobody know that here, and hopefully they neva will find out.
Anyway, back to Brotha Richards. Brotha Richards is a twenty two year old church fraud if you ask me. Ain’t nobody at my age into the bible that much. Who does he think he’s fooling? Well, it ain’t me. That’s for sure. Brotha Richards talks a good game when he’s around Pastor Richards but I know there’s a different person inside him. You know how I know? Well, because he tried to get into my panties after the first date. That’s right, he tried to get up in me. We talked all night about the bible, well he talked and I just listened, and then he tried to mizzle his way into my house. He must have heard about what I did from some of his guy friends and thought that I was easy. Well, I ain’t nowhere near easy. Well, at least not with somebody like him. He can kiss my natural black @ss if he thinks that. Did I happen to mention that he was fat, black, and ugly? Well if I didn’t, I just did. How in the hell did he even think he had a chance with a sistah like me? I might dance all up on ugly men at Magic City but after I clock out I’m on my own time. I pick who I want to be with.
I smiled despise the fact that I wasn’t feeling him. “Yes, Brotha Richards?”
He just stood there. Look, church service was long today and I’m ready to take my black @ss home. Say something bruh if you’re going to say something.
He finally spoke. “Well, I wanted to apologize about the other night. I know I was wrong about what I did and I hope that doesn’t hurt anything between the two of us.”
Yeah, and exactly what was between the two of us?
I chuckled. “Look Brotha Richards, understand what I’m about to tell you. I mean it. Listen clearly.” He shook his head. “Last week, what happened between the two of us was nice. It was nice while it lasted at least, but right about now I don’t see anything between the two of us. I don’t even think I want to see that side of you anymore. Please, let’s just keep our relationship in the church setting only.”
He scratched the back of his head. I swear, you would have though he was actually hurt. Did I actually hurt this brothaz feelings? Well anyway, tough luck.
“Okay, I guess I can deal with that sistah. It’s up to you.”
“Yeah, I’m glad you feel that way Brotha Richards.” I smiled and walked away.
I mean, what was the use of standing there and we had nothing to talk about? I know he was still looking at me but shoot, I had to roll out.
“Sistah Evans!” Someone yelled as I made my way out the door.
Oh lawd, can a sistah just make it out of church without everybody calling her name?
I turned around slowly. I was tired as I don’t know what and I was really just ready to hit the sack. I had a long @ss night at the club and well I was about ready to cuss whoever it was out. But when I looked back, I couldn’t help but place a fake smile on my face. It was Mother Blake. Mother Blake was a eighty two year old saved and sanctified mother figure. She is a person that I really looked up to. She reminded me of my Grandma Ann. They were both saints of the church and always willing to help a person in need.
“Oh, hi Mother Blake. How are you this glorious day?” I said walking towards her.
“Great, Sistah Evans. I hear that your fiance died a couple months ago. Are you okay doll?” She went to hug me but held me back so she could see my face.
I smiled again. “Yes, ma’am. Everything is looking up for me. And I been yet holding on.”
She pushed me in for a hug. “Amen, sistah. I teach all my children that same philosophy.” She smiled.
“Yes, ma’am and it’s a good philosophy to go by. Well, how are your children?”
“They’re great. You know Gail just had a baby. Mark just got a promotion. Amber is going to school this fall. Brian is graduating from Wake Forest this summer. Alvin, my poor Alvin, just lost his wife. I keep telling these children......”
Oh lawd, why did I even have to go there? Mother Blake had twelve children and every time you asked about one she told you about all of them. D@mn, at this rate I will neva make it home.
“Sistah Evans, you alright baby?”
She kicked me out my trans. “Oh, yes ma’am. I’m just tired, that’s all.” I smiled.
“Well, I’m going to let you go. You know we’re having the Pastor’s brunch next Monday. Are you going to be able to make it?”
“Yes Mother, I’ll try.”
“Good, I’ll see you later sistah.” She hugged me and went her on her merry way.
Finally, I was going to be able to make it out the door. I rushed out. I swear, when these church folks see you don’t have anybody to talk to they will break their neck to get by your side. I been dealing with this for years. You would have thought I was used to it. Well, I am and on any other Sunday I would have been one of those other folks, but not today. I was tired and my feet were killing me. I knew I shouldn’t have worn any stilettos.
I walked to my black 1996 Civic with my shoes half on.It wasn’t much and to be honest I could have had a better car with the salary I made at Magic City but I wasn’t too much stuck on material things. All I had to have a car for was to get from point A to point B. You know I’m lying, right? I had another car at home in the garage but I wouldn’t dare bring that car to church. I would be the subject of all the church gossip. I had a black 2003 Cadillac Escalade. It was hyped up too. I had it on some twenty two inch spinners, the latest Pioneer system, and the paint was flawless. But my old Civic was my baby. I rode it way more than the Escalade. I just rode the Escalade when I went to the clubs so I didn’t have to stand in line. You see, in Atlanta only the high rollers get into the hottest clubs. I don’t know why, it’s just like that. And guess what? I just so happened to be one of those.
When I got into the car, the first thing I did was pull off my stilettos. Those bad boys were killing my toes. I already had a corn and that was the last thing I needed. Opps, did I say corn? I meant long toe nails. Anyway, don’t be talking about my toes. I’ll have to holla at cha.
I slowly crept out the church parking lot. I had the tunes turned to 9.75, the new gospel station. I wouldn’t dare play what I really wanted in the church parking lot. That just wasn’t me. I wasn’t about to get struck down by God for playing a song that called woman ******* and men ******. Uh-Uh, no way, no how. As soon as I made it to the first stop sign though I ditch the gospel and put in my favorite T.I joint. T.I was straight representing for the city of ATL and well I had to give the brotha his props. In my eyes he was the king of the South.
Riding down Bankhead, my phone. “Whas up? Who dis?”
“Tray, whas up?”
“Oh, whas up dawg?” I smiled.
You see, Tray was my cut buddy. I know you’ve heard of a cut buddy before. Well, for all you lames out there that haven’t, it’s just somebody that you have sex with without the headaches of a committed relationship. We kept it real between each other. He saw other woman and well I saw other men. I didn’t want to be tied down and he didn’t either. We started out like that and I guess we will finish that way too.
“Ain’t nothing, so we hooking up tonight?”
“Naw, I got to be at the club. Believe it or not the club still gets lots of business on Sunday too.”
“Word?”
“Double word.” I laughed.
“Well, aiight. When you want to get together then?”
“Let’s try tomorrow at eight. Bring some whip cream too.” I laughed deviously.
“You lil’ freak. But I’m digging that though. See you then.”
“See you then.”
“Aiight, peace.”
“One.”
Being a stripper you would have thought I had had enough freaky ***** at my job, right? Hell naw, dancing up on ugly @ss men for a quick dollar is hardly something I would call satisfying. A girl my age gots to have what most girls have and that is sex. I crave on it. But I chose who I want to do it with. I don’t just do it with anybody either. Sometimes I chose to go into committed relationships and well they still can’t satisfy me. I have to get cut buddies (i.e Tray). Tray, well my Tray, he knows how to freak it just right. I prayed to god for him to send me somebody that can work it like Tray and that is ready for a committed relation but um......it just ain’t working. I guess, I got a lot more of this to do.
“Mama! Mama!” I called into the house.
My mama was never at home. She was a dead beat mama. She used men for a dollar and then she used the money they gave her to get high. I love smoking weed and that gets me high but that doesn’t seem to be enough for my mama. She has to have her crack. She tried that junk and now she’s hooked. I had her staying with me and it seemed like everyday something was missing. The only reason I was letting her stay with me was because I promised Grandma Ann that I was going to keep the family together. Lawd knows, this lady ain’t neva did a d@mn thing for me. She was always having her a good time while I cried and *****ted in my diapers at home. Let me stop, I know that was a little too graphic for you but ***** my mama brings that out in me.
I walked upstairs to my room. Yes, a sistah does have upstairs and downstairs. That’s an accomplishment for somebody like me. I came straight from Bowin Homes and now I got a four bedroom house just for me and my mama. Shoot, this was living luxury for me. I had it going on. Don’t hate!
I flopped on my king sized bed and looked over at my blinking answering machine. Dang, twenty five messages. Who could be wanting to get in touch with me that bad? I pressed the button to see who it was.
“Yes, Ms. Evans. This is the Fulton County Police Department and well I’ve been trying to get in touch with you since last night. Can you please give me a call as soon as possible? My name is Detective Rodger Hines. And my telephone number is.......”
Now, you know I wasn’t going to give you that man phone number.
I cut off the answering machine because the rest of the messages were from him too. It seemed as thought they got more urgent as they went on. I wondering what the hell a detective would want with me? All my junk was legit. I got my house, clothes, cars, all from the same salary. I had my license to dance and everything. So, what is this about?
I called the number he had left with me. “Hello, Fulton County Police Department. This is Detective Rodger Hines speaking. May I help you?”
“Yes, this is Nikki......I mean Nicole Evans. You called me this morning. I’m just returning your call.”
“Oh yes, Ms. Evans. Um, I don’t know how to tell you this but......” He paused as if he was trying to find the right words to say.
“Yes?”
“Well, your mother was found last night behind a liquor store. She died of a drug over dose. I’m regret having to tell you this but.....”
Oh my god.......
I didn’t hear another word he said. I just dropped the phone where I stood. There was nothing he could say that could ease my troubled heart. My mama didn’t take care of me and she was never there but I felt that part of my heart was gone. Mama may have been a junkie and a druggie but she was my mama. She was the only family that I knew. She never understood me but she was that person I could always count on to argue with, that person that was always there when I was sick, and that person that always told me she loved me whenever she was by my side.
D@mn, why did all this have to happen to me on Sunday?