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Tasha pushed the lady away from her and the lady tripped over a chair and fell to the ground landing on her ass.
“My word, you black people really are animals,” Martha said, rushing to the door and yelling for help. “Somebody help! My friends and I are being attacked.”
By that time, the restaurant’s management team came onto the patio with two husky men. I was regaining my self-control, while searching for my dignity in the situation, when one of the men grabbed me and held me against the wall.
“What’s going on?” the restaurant manager asked.
“That one. She hit me and spit on me,” Mrs. Turner said pointing in my direction. The smug look on her face let me know that I’d messed up.
“The police are on their way. I just called them,” Martha said to the manager. She was holding her banged up phone in her hand as she looked at me with the same smugness as Mrs. Turner. Her chest heaved up and down as she added, “You tried to make my baby out to be a criminal. This time, they’re going to take the real criminal to jail.”
“The truth always rises to the top,” Mrs. Turner added.
I looked at Mrs. Turner and her friends standing there playing the victim, while having low-key, shit-eating grins their faces. They seemed to be professionals as they feigned innocence and devastation to the manager.
It was going to be a long day. Hell, possibly even a long weekend in jail. I felt like crap for allowing them to take me so far out of character. I’d gone from crafting ideas for my daughter’s birthday party in the backyard of my new mansion to facing jail time all in a matter of hours.
The manager was a young, white girl who looked to be no older than twenty. She looked at me as if she couldn’t believe I’d hit and spit on an elderly woman. She walked over to me and asked, “Did you attack that woman?”
“After she stood over my table and insulted me and my mother, yes I did. I blacked out and didn’t know what I was doing.”
“I’m going to have to ask you to come with me until the police get here,” she said in obvious disappointment.
Tasha and I were escorted into the manager’s office, while Mrs. Turner and her crew rubbed their injuries and moaned in pain. I was in such shock over how quickly things happened. I didn’t know what to expect, as I sat quietly waiting for the police to arrive.
“There’s no doubt that these folks are going to take us to jail, so stop sitting there looking like a lump on a log and call Jacob,” Tasha said.
“What do you want me to say? Hello, Jacob, I just slapped the shit out of your mother and my cousin beat up her friend, come bail me out?” I asked.
“First tell him how they disrespected us and then tell him you slapped the shit out of his mother and I beat up her friend. I really don’t care how you break it to him, just tell him what’s going on in case they try to take us to jail, Destiny.”
“You think we’re going to jail?” I asked Tasha.
“It’s our word against theirs and from the looks of things,” she said, looking around at the all-white management team who was carefully attending to Mrs. Turner and her friends. “Our word might not make it.”
“Well, I did hit her. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“With the way she was talking to you, it’s a wonder you didn’t whoop her ass to sleep. I know I wanted to.”
“No matter what she said, I shouldn’t have done that Tasha. I feel terrible.”
“Look, either call Jacob and tell him what happened or give me his number. We will need someone to come bail us out.”
I wasn’t prepared to call Jacob and tell him I’d slapped his mother, so I gave Tasha the number. She tried to reach him, but he didn’t answer the phone. As she was about to leave a message, an officer arrived.
“Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to get off the phone,” the officer said.
Tasha ended the call and put her phone in her purse. Then, after hearing our side of the story, the officer placed us both under arrest for assaulting Mrs. Turner and her friend. I didn’t resist the arrest. I knew I was wrong for putting my hands on her.
“What exactly are we being arrested for?” Tasha asked as another officer put her hands behind her back.
“Assault and disorderly conduct,” the officer said before reading us both our rights. Mrs. Turner was being attended to by a paramedic looking shining his penlight into her ear as we were escorted out of the restaurant.
“You look like a nice lady, but the victims want to press charges, so we have to take you both to the station,” the officer escorting me out said.
Mrs. Turner smiled as I was being carted away to be locked in a cage, just like the animal she claimed I was. I was so pissed at myself for letting her win.
“We’re going to get out of this,” Tasha said once we were both in the back of the police car. “Just call Jacob as soon as they allow us to make a phone call.”
