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I reach for a napkin and pat my forehead, then the back of my neck. Sweat is just rollin’ all down my back. “You know how I do it, boo. Ooh, it’s hot as hell in here.”
He laughs. “Nah, that’s all you. You hot like fire, Cass.”
I wave him on. “And I’m ready to burn somethin’ up tonight.”
He laughs, walkin’ off to help another customer at the other end of the bar. I swivel my barstool so that I am facin’ the door as I place the straw to my lips and take slow, deliberate sips. I catch the eye of that sneaky-lookin’, Hill Harper look-alike watchin’ me from the other side of the room. He gives me a head nod. With his fine ass! I roll my eyes, then wrinkle my nose the minute I see Shuwanda and Alicia walkin’ through the door.
These nasty-freak bitches! Mmmph. I knew they’d be all up in each other’s faces, again. Images of the two of them chowin’ down on each other’s pussy’s flash in my head. Ugh! I toss back my drink, shakin’ the thought.
“Hey, girl,” Shuwanda says, walkin’ over to me with a phony-ass smile on her face.
I frown. “Bitch, don’t speak to me. You know I don’t like you. Now move along.”
She laughs. “I will when I’m good and ready. I know you don’t speak to me. That’s exactly why I fuck with you.”
I decide to ignore this bitch, lookin’ over at Alicia. “Ooh, girl. I heard how Chauncey dragged ya ass all through Pasha’s shop and busted ya face open a few months ago. A mess, boo. I’m so pissed I missed that shit.” I laugh. “Girl, what he do? He knocked out like three of your front teeth and broke ya nose, too, right? Speakin’ of which, how is that sexy-ass Mandingalo, doin’? I’m sure you missin’ all that hard cock. Oooh, Courtney is some kinda fine. Too bad you couldn’t keep him.”
She rolls her eyes. “Fuck you, Cass. Messy bitch.”
“No, sugah-boo, you the messy one. How you gonna be on your knees suckin’ some stripper-niggah’s dick at a party, then get put on blast all up on Facebook? If you gonna be a whore, be a smart one.” I shake my head at her.
Alicia smirks. “Whatever, Cass. Say what you want, shit happens. I see you got that ugly scar off the side of ya face. KiKi really did your face real dirty when she sliced you down to the white meat.”
She’s talkin’ about the young bitch who came to my doorstep and slashed my face with a razor. And yeah, she did my face in lovely. Sliced the side of my face with a razor real good. But she got one even better. Me and five of my kids stomped that ho’s ass. Beat her face in until her head blew up like a pumpkin. We tried to beat her face off. Broke her eye sockets, nose and knocked teeth out. And, yes we posted it all up on YouTube and Facebook for all to see. And what? And yeah, we all got arrested and charged with aggravated assault. But, guess what? I didn’t give a fuck. That ho had crossed the line, comin’ to my door confrontin’ me about ridin’ down on her niggah’s dick.
And, yeah, I got ninety-seven stitches to the face. But that didn’t change shit. I still kept fuckin’ with her man’s young ass, and runnin’ his pockets. I fucked him because I wanted to. And because he had some good damn dick! And I dismissed his ass and sent him on his way when I got bored. But guess what? It was her niggah who hustled up the ten grand to get that scar removed. Plastic surgery is where it’s at, sugah-boo. And a bitch is good as new.
I pull open my handbag and take out my phone, settin’ it up on the bar. “Hahaha . . . real funny, bitch. And you see what happened to her ass. Pumpkin-head bitch got her ass stomped in. You must wanna be next. Oh, wait. You already know what it’s like to get stomped. Matter of fact, didn’t they have to carry ya ass out on a stretcher. Poor thing. Mmmph. But I’m glad to see you standin’. I know you glad you finally got all those knocked out teeth replaced.”
“Cass, you’re such a ghetto bitch. I don’t even know why I’m standin’ here wastin’ my time fuckin’ with you.”
“Ooh, Alicia, don’t do it to ya’self, boo. By the way, are you still with Courtney? Oh, wait. Not. I forgot. He dumped ya ass when he found out what a triflin’ bitch you are. I’m sure he’s happy not to be fuckin’ with your whorish-ass anymore, nasty cum-slut.”
Her mouth drops open. “The only whore here is you.”
I ignore the comment, shiftin’ my body around on the barstool. “Pussy eater, boom! I wasn’t the one who got caught suckin’ dick, sugah. You were. And then ya nasty, desperate ass done sucked down on Melvin’s ashy-ass dick. Ugh, ya ass really done fell off. ’Cause anyone who fucks a niggah after”—I flick my hand over at Shuwanda—“they done run all up in this bitch, is a straight up whore.”
Shuwanda starts neck-rollin’ it. “Bitch, how about you try spendin’ more time at home raisin’ ya bad-ass kids instead of poppin’ ya ass up and down in the bar and mindin’ everyone else’s business all the damn time? How about you do that for change, ho?”
I laugh. “Slut, boom! Both of you bitches are sickenin’. One minute the two of you bipolar hoes are airin’ each other’s business out, then the next minute you clit-lickin’ whores all coochie-crunch. You confused, dizzy bitches deserve each other. Now get the fuck outta my face.”
Shuwanda shifts her cheap handbag from one arm to the other. “Whatever, Cass. You always somewhere startin’ shit with ya miserable ass.”
I laugh, peepin’ the edges of her handles all frayed up. This ghetto, low-budget bitch is hot trash! She has the nerve to have a matchin’ scarf wrapped around her head. “The only miserable one in the room is you, sugah-boo. By the way, cute bag.”
She smirks. “Of course it is.”
This bootleg bitch really thinks I don’t know fake shit when I see it. Bitches kill me tryna pass off knock-off shit like it’s official. I shake my head. “Mmmhmm . . . downtown Newark and Chinatown specials; cheap wears and knockoff handbags. You’re real fly with it with ya Fooey Futon danglin’ in the crook of ya arm. A real Daffy’s girl; frontin’ like you’re doin’ it up. Bitch, puhleeze.”
“What?!” she snaps, plantin’ her fist up on her hip. “Cassandra, I know you don’t even wanna go there with me.”
I gulp down the rest of my drink and feel like bangin’ my glass in her face, but I’ma keep it real classy-ghetto tonight. “Boo-boo, puhleeze. I didn’t stutter. You heard what I said. We can go there all night if you want. ’Cause the truth of the matter is you can’t bring it to me, boo. No matter how hard you try. Yeah, I have a buncha kids by different men. And yeah, I live in section-8
housin’. And whaaaat, bitch? You still see me pushin’ a Range Rover, don’t you, ho? And you see my kids stay fly every damn day. And you see this thousand-dollar bag on my arm, don’t you? So where you tryna take me, huh, sweetie? No motherfuckin’ where; that’s where. But, you can take your—” My cell pings. “Saved by the bell, ho.” I grab it from off the bar.
“Whatever, bitch. Alicia, I’m gettin’ away from this ho before I have to turn it up in here.”
I laugh in her face. “Let me see you try it.” She huffs, walkin’ off.
