I sat at a table in the middle of the club, sipping a dirty martini as I watched this stripper who looked like her ass was a hundred years old with droopy titties, chittlin’ thighs, and crow’s feet. I kept thinking, where in the hell did they get grandma? This bitch was so old, she probably knew Fredrick Douglass back in the day. I laughed my pretty girl ass off as the stuffed shirts in the place hissed and booed, begging the old bitch to actually put her clothes back on instead of taking off another stitch. I took cute sips of my dirty martini as I waited for them to bring on the next dancer. After about twenty agonizing minutes of watching this hag prance up and down the stage, it was finally over. Good-damn-thing, too, ’cause another second of that, I was going to jab my eyes out.
“Give it up for Ursula Starr!” the DJ announced.
None of these sleazy brothers clapped, and they hissed and booed even louder. This Ursula chick pathetically reached down to scrape the few singles that were thrown to her off the black stage. “Fuck every last one of y’all!” she yelled.
I laughed, thinking, that’s some sad-ass shit right there.
The DJ, some wigger with corn rolls, stood in front of a turntable mixing one rap song after the next. When he put on Trina’s “Red Bottoms,” I wanted to get up out of my seat and shake my ass to that jam.
“That’s my bitch right there,” I said to myself.
“All right, niggas, loosen your ties, get outcha seats, and grab your dicks, ’cause let me introduce you to Tallahassee’s baddest bitch in the 8-5-0, Katiesha!”
It was her, the chick I had waited for, the bitch who hated Bree about as much as I did. Katiesha slinked out on stage, wearing a leopard-print two-piece, a blond wig that draped down her back, and black, red-bottom platforms. She had a pretty caramel complexion with round, brown titties and a thick booty. Now, I’m not saying that I’m gay or nothing, but if I was, I would probably holler, no lie.
So that’s the infamous Katiesha?
The bitch had given Bree shit for years. Katiesha was who I was looking for, who would be instrumental in the next phase of my plan to break up Bree and Kashawn. The suits were making it rain with dollar bills as she wrapped herself seductively around the steel pole, grinding her pussy against it like it was a dick. She had these fools eating out of her hands, and would soon leave them with empty wallets and brick-hard dicks. I pulled a C-note out of my cleavage, walked slowly past these sex-thirsty men to the stage, and handed the money to Katiesha. All the eyes in the club were on me. These mutts were cheering like a bunch of pussy-hungry frat boys, like they wanted me to join Katiesha up on stage. Dirty fucks. When it comes to pussy, men will do anything, including sit and roll over. The way Katiesha made her ass jiggle and clap on stage, she had them drooling all over themselves.
I couldn’t keep my eyes off her, the way she swung herself around the pole like some kind of exotic boa constrictor. She even had a bitch like me captivated by her talent. After her performance, she came out in the lounge area of the club, dressed in a red robe with lace trim on the sleeves and at the hem. The suits pulled at her like she was some famous porn star, all of them aching for a minute of her time, but she kept her light-brown eyes zeroed in on me, knowing, as well as I, that those fools were trifling and low-pro.
“How you doing tonight?” she asked.
“Sitting here, enjoying my drink and the sexy entertainment. I gotta tell you, ma, you were doing your thing up on the stage.”
“Thank you. Did you enjoy yourself?”
“Hell yeah. I love how you have these fools puffing and panting on you.”
“So what brings you out tonight?”
“I’m just out, seeing what kind of trouble I can get into.”
“I feel you,” Katiesha said. “So, um…you want to go in back for a lap dance?”
“Lead the way, baby girl.”
Katiesha took me by the hand, leading me toward a back room at the rear of the club. The room was dimly lit with a red and black color scheme. The floor was blacker than the devil’s asshole, and the walls and plush booth seats were as red as sin. Katiesha picked a private corner of the room where she sat me down.
“I just want to let you know before we get started that it’s two-hundred bucks an hour.”
“Not a problem,” I told her.
I was willing to pay whatever it took to get Katiesha on my team, to do what I needed her to do. I plucked two hundred-dollar bills out of my silver clutch and handed them to her. She stuffed them seductively down into the leopard-print bra part of her bikini. I started to ask her where she purchased it from, but decided against it. Katiesha worked herself between my thighs, grinding her booty in my lap. If I had a dick, I would have been bone-hard that night.
“What do you think I could get for a thousand?”
Katiesha gyrated around slowly with a seductive expression on her face. “Pretty much anything you want, baby.” She gleamed. “What do you have in mind?”
“How about just talking?”
“Talk? Talk about what?”
“I don’t have any friends.”
“This bitch you would know. Bree Parker.”
As soon as I mentioned Bree’s name, Katiesha gawked at me like it was a mortal sin to say Bree’s name in her presence. “Who the fuck are you?” She spoke with venom in her voice.
“Someone who wants to see Bree get exactly what she deserves.”
Katiesha kept on dancing. “It’s been a hot minute since I last heard that name. You still haven’t told me who you are and what you want.”
“I have a proposition for you.”
“Is this some kind of joke? Did that bitch send you here to punk me?”
“Bree didn’t send me. I’m an old roommate of hers. We lived together back when she was stripping here at the club.”
“Okay, and?”
“She always talked about how she couldn’t stand you.”
“Well, the feeling was mutual. How is that stank pussy bitch anyway?”
“We can’t talk here. Meet me in the parking lot after your shift is over, and I’ll fill you in on everything. I drive a black Mustang. It’s parked in the back of the parking lot.” I handed Katiesha a fifty-dollar bill to let her know that I wasn’t fucking around. “And there’s plenty more where that came from if you’re interested.” I walked out of the back room, leaving Katiesha with her curiosity piqued.
It felt good to breathe in some fresh air, to get away from the stench of period pussy and cigarettes. I waited almost two hours for Katiesha before she made her way out of the club, but I would have waited all night if it meant I would get what I came for. She was dressed from tip to tail in a black jacket, a black corset, and a black mini that was so short, you could see her fallopian tubes. She had on these eight-inch thigh-highs that I would have killed for. Black wavy weave came down over her shoulders.
Ho couture, I thought. I unlocked the passenger-side door for Katiesha to get in.
“Damn, these boots are killin’ me,” she said as she slid into the passenger seat.
“You know what they say: beauty is pain.”
“Shit. You ain’t never lied.”
“You hungry? There’s a Whataburger a block up the street. They have the best double cheeseburgers you ever want to sink your teeth into.”
Katiesha was skin and bones, like she hadn’t eaten a month from Sunday. “You ain’t weird or anything, are you? I’m not into that kinky shit.”
“I’m not weird, kinky, or crazy. I just want to do some business with you, that’s all. Lady to lady.”
“I guess I can use a little something to eat, but can you stop me off to Walgreens to get some cigarettes?”