Later that night, Chino pulled in front of Chrome Nightclub on Delaware Avenue. The atmosphere was festive. The chilly night air did not serve as a deterrent for the scantily dressed bevy of honeys outside the club. Dre rolled down the window and sniffed the fresh scent of the Delaware River that served as a back drop for the night club.
The two of them stepped out the 745 and Dre saw how all eyes seemed to be on them. That was cool for Dre, who needed the attention of a effervescent woman to flirt with and waste money on a cheap motel to fuck that night. Chino didn’t care that Beanie Segal was performing; all he looked forward too was some new pussy.
At the VIP entrance, Dre tried to pick up the admission tab, but Chino stopped him because he was entering for free. The doorman slipped them both armbands that proved they were old enough to drink and they bounced into the club. They walked toward the steps that led to the second floor, and Chino’s hand was snatched up by a bodacious, florid-faced woman, who dragged him to the dance floor when the reached the top of the stairs.
Sean Paul’s Get Busy blasted through the speakers as Chino and Dre parted ways to do their own thing. Dre was only seventeen, but he had been stealing sips of Courvoisier each time he went to Jean-Mary’s. He leaned on the bar and ordered a double shot of the cognac. He sipped it and welcomed the scorch in his throat.
With Chino on the dance floor, Dre suavely bobbed his head to Beyonce’s Naughty Girl. He listened intently to the words, as Tasha and the baby swam back to the surface of his thoughts. He needed a naughty girl to take his mind off Tasha.
He took another sip of his drink and a set of perfectly tanned breasts had his attention. The caramel hued bombshell sat next to him, enveloped in a leather halter top and leather blazer, which laid carelessly off her slender shoulders. He wanted a nipple to pop out. Her black Apple Bottom jeans rested perfectly over her spiky boots. Each time that the strobe light hit her, Dre admired her. She admired him the same, according to her sneaky glances.
Her dark eyes searched him as if she could see through his clothing. He told her, “All you have to do is ask to see, ma.”
She smiled.
Dre swallowed the last of his drink, ignoring the scorch in his throat. He turned to the bartender and told her, “Let me have some Dom P.”
“A glass of Dom Perignon coming up,” the bartender said.
“No! The bottle,” Dre said, correcting her, showing off for the bombshell.
The barmaid sat the chilled bottle on the bar and Dre paid the $275 bill. He cracked the bottle and poured himself some of the champagne. Dre bobbed his head coolly to the LL Cool J track Head Sprung.
“You’re not going to drink that alone, are you?” The bombshell asked. He knew that she would.
He looked into her eyes and became mesmerized by her allure. He could not find the words to say to her, so he asked the barmaid for a glass and poured her some.
“Thank you,” the woman said. “Sexy and polite. I’m Lisa.”
Dre took her hand and told her his name. Her hand was soft and Dre envisioned touching other parts of her silky body. She was a little on the mature side, and Dre knew that she was a part of the Chrome college crowd. He was barely out of high school, and had an old head on his top.
He asked her, “What’s a college girl like you doing in this hood joint?”
“I’m out of college. Twenty-five, babe.”
Damn, I knew she was on old head, but she a quarter, Dre thought.
The two of them became acquainted, smiling and occasionally giggling at each other’s lame quip. Dre was lost in her world and out of his world of teenage pregnancy and drug dealing.
At least for then.
***
Sulking in another area of the club, Tasha heard Talibah say: “Girl, Dre is over there without a care in the world with some bitch that has enough weave in her hair to be used by five bitches.”
“You’re lying!”
“Child, no, I’m not,” Talibah said pointing.
“That nigga has a lot of fucking nerve. But I can’t trip, yet.
Let’s move to get a closer look,” Tasha responded, calmly. “Fuck dat! Let’s go kick the bitch’s ass. And his!”
“No, I’m here, so he may be chatting innocently.”
“You’re here, yes, to see Beans. You don’t have these broke ass nigga’s all up in your face.”
“Tab, chill. Let’s move closer and if things get out of control, we gon’ set it off up in this bitch!”
Tasha and Talibah walked over to the bar. Tasha eyed Dre like a hawk. Even though her nerves were plucked, she had never let her friends see her sweat. She would handle this without anyone else in her ear. Maybe that was the wrong approach, but she didn’t give a fuck.
***
“So, Dre, do you have a girlfriend?” Lisa asked.
“Naw, I’m still getting over a break-up.”
“Oh! That’s crazy. How could a girl mess up with a fine brother like you?”
“I’m not as fine as you, beautiful.”
Dre was so wrapped in his conversation with Lisa that, he hadn’t noticed that Beanie Segal had performed and left the stage.
“Well, Dre, the club will be closing in fifteen minutes. I guess we can exchange numbers.”
“Yeah, we can do that.”
Tasha looked on as Dre’s acquaintance dug into her purse. Tasha expected the bitch to pull out a pen, and she did. Tasha bumped and pushed her way over toward her man before he made the mistake and got slapped in front of the entire club.
Lisa jotted her number on a napkin and held it out to Dre. Tasha intercepted the number, balled it up and dropped it into Lisa’s champagne glass.
“He won’t need that,” Tasha said, staring hard at the both of them. She then continued: “Dre, what the fuck you doing with this bitch all up in your face?”
“Bitch? Who the fuck you calling a bitch, little girl?” Lisa asked.
Dre smoothly interjected before things got out of control. “Lisa, this is my girlfriend, Tasha, I just told you about.” He turned to Tasha, and said, “I was just telling her about us before you came over here drawin’. What are you doing here?”
“Do not fucking question me, Dre! Why was this bitch, as I said, all up in your face, nigga.”
“Tasha, you are trippin’. We were talking as you saw. What, I can’t talk to women in a crowded ass club?”
––––––––
“You sound like a drunk.”
“Dre, it was nice too meet you. I’m out of here.”
“Bitch, bye!” Tasha told her.
Lisa ignored her and walked away.
“You’re acting like a real stupid...”
“Like a what, Dre? A bitch?”
“Look! I’m out of here. That’s why I don’t want to have a
baby by you now,” Dre said, grabbing the last of his champagne and drowning it.
“You weren’t ready to leave when that entire weave was all in your face. You’re not giggling now.”
Chino walked over to the quarreling couple and told Dre he was ready to go.
“You can leave. He’s coming with me,” Tasha told Chino.
“Actually, ma, I already have some pussy lined for him,” Chino replied. “You’ll have to get his number and get in line, because if he doesn’t fuck this chick, then I do not get to fuck her girlfriend.”
“Well, I’m his wife, and he’s taking me home. So, you won’t be getting that pussy tonight!”