Tag: Dope Boy Chronicles

“Yes!” Demi scooped a generous bump through her cut straw. “Then they come to me crying, hyperventilating and trying to catch their breath… Something I’d just told them to not do a week before…they do it anyway and are suffering the consequences, wanting comforting and understanding… If they’d just listen from the start, you know?”

Even from my distance, I could clearly hear Sway’s words. “Look, bitch. I’m going to say this once and for all. Don’t ask me or my man again about turning fucking tricks. I know what you’re up to, ho. You’re not going to pull me.”

She threatened, pointing to everyone in the room. “I’m telling on all you motherfuckers! When I’m through, vice is going to shut this whole fucking club down! Believe that!” She tussled, scratched, clawed, and was gnawing and biting like a mad woman as she was dragged away.

Sway held the steaming pan, spooning meatballs and sauce onto the pile. “Whoa… That’s good.” I took my fork and mixed some together before giving it a taste. “Wow, this is fucking delicious. I thought I was going to need to add some salt or something.” I carved a meatball into four. “Oh shit! This is unbelievable, Sway! You’re a fantastic cook!”

“I know, you don’t see her that way. But she still had feelings for you. Once she gets over it, she’ll be okay.” Sarah pressed a roll of cash into my hand. “You got two hundred?”

“Go home and play with your grandchildren, bitch. You should be retired anyway. Look at you… You’re day shift, B team… Worn out, thick… Crooked-legged bitch.”

“I will… Then I’ll take care of you. You won’t want for anything. Any kind of car, you got that. I’m gonna get you your apartment…or maybe even a condo, paid for, on the top floor of the tallest building in Dallas…

“She smoked crack… I guess you could say that…she was there but not really there. I was a burden, and she’d sometimes take it out on me. She didn’t hit me or anything like that, but she was verbally abusive. I guess she didn’t ask to have to raise me.”

It racks your nerves when you’re hot. You begin to imagine scenarios where, if being pulled over, how you’d run at least far enough to toss the shit out. Knowing you would probably be arrested anyway for evading the police or whatever list of charges they have on the books, it would still be better than being caught dirty.

“Yeah. I won awards. I would have had to have gone to college, but I’d made up my mind that I was never going to put myself in that kind of debt. That’s a ripoff. All that for a job starting at fourteen or fifteen dollars an hour. It would take me nearly seven years to pay that shit off, all while living in poverty. Fuck that…