Around the Way Girls 9 (24 page)

“I feel you, but the way we smoke, we'd be blowing through our whole supply. Wouldn't be any product to profit off of. You know how we do.” I was being honest with her and myself. We were both fiends for marijuana and that could be a problem when trying to sell it.

“Bitch, please, we need to flip this cash making sure we keep some money in our pockets. I'm tired of being broke so if we gotta drop this habit cold turkey, then so be it.”

Nique was talking out of the side of her neck. I had no intention of giving up weed, point blank period, and neither did she.

“You gonna be blazing 'til the day you die, so spare me the sponsor speech,” I said, rolling my eyes and making her laugh. “But you're right about being broke. It's played out and I'm surely ready for a change. But Wally ain't the one I'm trying to get a come up through. As soon as I call that nigga he gonna be on some old ‘fuck me' type shit and it ain't even about that. Me and Mike about to be exclusive so I'm about to take my pussy off the market.”

“You must be smoking more than this Kush Cookie if you think Mike is about to come up off the streets to settle down right now. You might as well hook up with Wally to see what he's really talking about.”

“Easy for you to say.” Despite truly wanting to, I sent Wally a text message letting him know I needed to speak to him on business.
I hope this shit doesn't go south on me.

After a few seconds he responded; then we began to exchange casual conversation about this, that, and the third. I tried to keep it strictly business so he knew this wasn't me trying to get a tricking session on. I'd gotten down with him in the past when I needed a few dollars, but I was so far past being on that tip with him. However, I knew the game and, with girls like me, dudes never think you can change. My street senses were telling me that I'd have to let Wally at least bang to get him to be my connect.
Oh well, that's what this pussy is for: work, work, work.
Finally setting up a time to see him when me and Nique came from running the streets, I deleted all the texts so there wouldn't be any evidence for Mike to possibly find. Nique might've said some slick shit I let slide about him not being that into me, but he'd prove otherwise on the regular going through my phone, marking his territory.

 

Cori and I came from the same type of family upbringing. Hell, our moms were childhood friends since the age of ten. They were the original Thelma and Louise of Detroit. Mama and Auntie Faye shot dope together, smoked crack together, and even seemed to have overdosed together. So Cori and I were forced to fend for ourselves, and naturally gravitated to one another even as kids, because our moms stayed high. And now we out here on some new breed, second-generation dynamic duo–type shit, robbing and boosting in makeup and heels. Times had surely changed.

I needed my ride or die buddy to get it together. Cori knew Wally the weed man had a thing for her we could use to our advantage to getting some weight, so I didn't know why she's sitting up over there caught up in her feelings like she didn't know the game. Sometimes you had to be down for whatever to get a come up; it's called life. And this bitch right here was trying to win. If Wally was into me, I'd be doing splits on his dick for a few ounces to sell. Looking over seeing her texting, I hoped it was to get the ball in motion with him and not checking in with my cousin. I wasn't hating that they were an item; I was just more concerned about us getting that bread.

Eager to get to the beauty supply store, I was wasting no time. Not only did I need to jump right for my cousin's party just in case my boyfriend Vic's groupies were lurking, but a few of my loyal customers had been blowing up my cell looking for a deal on bundles. Forget cutting the next man in when I could hit the lick myself. I would have much rather been in bed because my stomach was doing cartwheels, but I needed this quick lick badly! Taking a sip from the Vernors pop I was nursing, I was willing to try anything to feel better.

Since shade was already thrown at basement beauticians, I tried to have my hustle run like a true business. I wasn't about to get a bag tag for having my clients bring needles, thread, spritz, glue, or whatever else needed to get the job done. Besides, that was less money I could charge. By me and Cori lifting my product, everything made was profit. Sure we took the risk of being caught; but them coco puff Koreans weren't equipped to handle our swipe skills.

Pulling into the parking lot of one of the hottest beauty supplies in the city, I made sure to position my car pointing toward the alley for a quick getaway. Back to school time, the first of September, kids were posted at all four surrounding bus stops in their crisp new uniforms. Me and Cori had gotten down right before Labor Day with Walmart cards for back-to-school supplies; so I was sure some of them were rocking stolen apparel and book bags.

“Black folk know they be out early.” Cori finally looked up from her phone, peeping more than just the school kids but stragglers walking around with no destination in mind. “We better hope the car is still here when we come out.”

“I know right. Ain't no telling on the Mile. Cats over here don't sleep, take naps, doze off, or nothing.” It was a joke but thinking twice I didn't want to burn bread on us. I said a quick prayer to make sure our outlaw ways weren't getting ready to catch up with us now. This wasn't the time to get caught up trying to be slick.

Ding. Ding. The door had chimes that sounded as I pulled it open for Cori to walk through first.

“If you not see, we not sale. If you break you buy.” A small-framed Korean lady greeted us, cheesing from ear to ear, obviously proud of her stained yellow teeth. Walking in automatically being watched, neither one of us twitched knowing this store's cameras were there for show.

We'd been in here a dozen times stealing their high-priced merchandise they bought for dirt cheap at wholesale prices, so this was regular routine for us. Splitting up, I knew Cori had her own thing to do. She already knew to snatch me up some combs, grease, and sheen. Having her grab the smaller items, while I hassled them about hair textures, worked more than well. The black girl who used to work here got fired for giving everyone the hookup, so we preyed on their inability to speak English.

“Can I get some help with the hair?”

Watching both the young Korean girls look back and forth between me and Cori with their slanted eyes, Cori was too crafty for them. Within seconds of them watching to see what move I was going to make, Cori had pulled the plug on their metal detector and swiped both bottles of O.P.I nail polish she'd been clutching in the palms of her hands.
Bet girl, do ya' thang 'cause I'm for damn sure about to do mine!

“Uh uh, can I help you?” Dragging each vowel like a true Korean would, one of the employees finally opened her mouth to help me. “Yes, your sign outside says you have one hundred percent human hair on sale; what kind specifically?” Not talking like the true-bred hood girl I was, I wanted to throw her off.

“Um, yes, Outre collection is on sale, ten to twenty-five percent off depending on style. You want see?”

Acting confused, this was all part of the plan. Not only did I not care about what so-called sale they were offering, I was starting to get irritated by her strong accent. These little pale-skin munchkins always set up shop in the heart of hoods but couldn't speak a lick of English, let along the Ebonics everyone around here spoke. “Let me see the Remi Velvet eighteen inch if you have it, 1B.”

Watching her scurry off, I went back to scoping the scene at hot-handed Cori. She was moving up and down the aisles, watching over her shoulder as she tossed shampoo, hair color, perms, oil sheen, and combs into her purse. My eyes widened, signaling her it was time to dump that merchandise and come back for a second round.
What is she doing? That greed shit is gonna get us caught. Get smart, Cori!
We'd been robbing for years, but as of late, Corielle was starting to get more reckless.

“Here go hair. Ring up now?”

“Um naw, I gotta check y'all product out first. I brought some weave out of here a few weeks ago and it napped up on me super quick.” I shook my head playing off disappointment. Reaching for the pack of hair, she eyed me suspiciously before handing it over.

“No problem. No problem.” Opening the package so I could feel the hair a little, I ran my fingers from the wefts down knowing I was already planning on snatching it up.

Almost having to snatch it from her hands, I held it up in the mirror trying to see if it would match my hair color. Once again none of this mattered. “I'll need three more eighteen inches of these please. Do you have any hair that's already dyed blond?” I was going to send her back and forth as many times as it took for me to snatch up at least ten packs of hair.

“We have, yes, let me get.” Scurrying back off like I hoped, she was about to get ran until her feet hurt.

After reaching down discreetly to snatch up a few of the miniature bottles of oil, I turned to see Cori coming back in the door, this time headed toward the clothes and knock-off jewelry section.
She's supposed to be over here helping me distract this chink chick, not wandering off for that cheap trash. She knows this hair goes quick, fast, and for top dollar.
Not before I finished my thought, the chimes went off, signaling a customer had entered.
A'ight, game changer but definitely not a spoiler.
I wasn't leaving up out of here without this weave; and that was that.

“Here you hair. You ready to buy?”

“What's your name?” Putting on my best innocent girl voice, I was trying to make this Korean lady feel at ease.

“Sue. You buy yet?”

“Listen, Sue, I own a shop and I offer my clients the option of picking up the hair I need for their style. Here's my list. I ain't here to waste your time, trust.” I had to do something for dramatics. Reaching into my pocket I pulled a wad of bills out to flash for imitation only. I saw her little slanted eyes force themselves wide, seeing the greenbacks of hundreds she'd never touch.

“Tell me list. I get hair so you buy.” Sue wasn't budging with her attitude.

It was starting to piss me off. I could've easily yoked her from behind that counter smushing her face into the ground, but I was trying to do this with ease so me and Cori could frequent this spot. I was getting tired of driving deep east.

Running down a few different brands and colors, she hurriedly got to work, fooled by the hopes of making this off-limits cash. Each time she left to get me a new selection to feel, compare, and cross off the list I made sure she saw, I stole a whole bundle. I had her twisted, confused, and losing count. Finally having Remi Velvet, Indian Remy, a few packs of Malaysian wet and wavy packs, and a few Milky Way bundles for those needing to spend less, I'd crossed everything off my list and was ready to go. Once the customer approached the same hair counter as me, it wasn't a second thought on my mind other than getting up out of here. “This will be all, Sue. You can take them to the register and help this lady. I have to pick up a few more things.”

“Come on, girl,
let's go.
”

Hearing Corielle shout, seeing her run up the aisle way toward me with a gang of merchandise in hand, I didn't know what had happened or what tip she was on but blowing up the spot was what she had done.

“I said run, bitch, run.”

Close on her heels, a Korean man wearing a short ponytail was almost close enough to snatch her back. “Stop her, Sue, stop her,” he yelled, running full speed but not fast enough for crafty Cori.

“She not steal from here.” Turning into only something I'd seen on television, the old bob-wearing sunk-face chink I'd just gotten down on jumped over the hair counter, knocking over the Styrofoam mannequin heads.

“Naw, Sue, she will.” Tripping her as she landed before she could get a head start on Cori, I kicked her in the back of her head making sure she stayed put before making my getaway. Hearing the middle-aged black lady screaming at the hair counter made me run faster knowing the police would get called faster.
Damn this ain't our day.
Now, behind the Korean man, who was two steps from grabbing the door to trail Cori to the car, I picked up one of the pressing combs they had on display, running full force and slapping him as hard as I could on the side of his head.

“Ahhh,” he screamed out in agony, grabbing the side of his face and hitting the floor.

I hammered on him a few more times and blood started to pour out down the side of his face onto the comb and floor. Then I kicked him in the back of the head like Sue; I couldn't take the chance of being stuck up in here with two against one—hell, maybe three if the spectator wanted to get it on it.

“Y'all chink suckas never give anybody a break in the hood anyway!” Grabbing a few hair magazines, lip glosses, and the sunglasses I'd eyed when we first walked in, part of me wanted to hold ol' girl hostage and steal more stuff up out of here.

Cori was laying on the horn as she pulled up to the front door and signaled me to catch a clue and get out of here.

The greed was real though. Doing a double take almost running back to snatch a few more packs of hair, I thought twice about doing too much, especially seeing the middle-aged woman with her phone out filming me. There was no way I could leave this place without that phone in my possession.

“Hey yo, bitch, give me that cell,” I shouted, running toward the now-shrilling woman. She wasn't going to go down easy after seeing me nut up on ol' boy and Kung Fu Sue. I couldn't blame her but that didn't mean I was giving her a pass. Taking off full speed up the opposite aisle kneeled down, I cut her off at the end, ramming her into a rack of cheap costume jewelry.

“Who the fuck you thought I was?” Snatching the iPhone from her trembling hands, I punched her in the face, drawing blood from her nose instantly. “This is what you get for wanting to be a snitch.” Shaking my head over her as she held her face wailing, I was disgusted at any-and everyone who had a snitching mentality. Hearing Cori honking the horn outside, I knew that was my cue to get out up out of here fast.

Hearing the door chimes ring again, if this was another customer, I for sure was busted. Seeing ol' boy's limp body in the doorway would be an alarm for anyone to run out screaming.
Damn this ain't supposed to be going like this.
Afraid to turn around, I bent down not wanting the person to see me.

“I don't know what you're in here doing, girl, but bring your ass,” Cori shouted.

It brought a sigh of relief over my body. “Girl, bye, I thought you were another customer.” I popped up automatically, back in the game. “Wait 'til I tell you what went down.” Glad to see my girl and not another eyewitness, I thought quick on my toes, searching little miss lady for a wallet then snatching her purse. She never put up a fight but with prime examples laid out, I dared her to. “I'll be at your door if you ID me or my girl, trust that, Mrs. Tandy.” I pulled the identification card from her wallet making sure the faces matched.

Whimpering, she nodded in agreement. I didn't have the need or time to torture here anymore. With this being 7 Mile and Wyoming, time was ticking before another actual customer did come in looking for weave deals. Me and Cori had to be out. Now being petty and trying my luck, I ran to snatch some more bundles of wet and wavy. Hell, you can't blame a girl for seizing the opportunity.

“You not steal from us, black girl.” Sue lifted her hand in protest trying to drag herself across the floor. Squinting through her eyes, even half delirious she managed to degrade me.

“I can, will, and did, ya little cat-eating cunt.” I swiftly kicked her in the head, harder this time. Seeing her head bounce off of the commercial-carpeted cement floor like a basketball, I knew she wouldn't be rising up to disrespect me again. I didn't feel the least bit of regret for knocking her skull loose. It served her right for making this about race when this was clearly about the haves and the have-nots.