conference table set in the middle and a small bar built in behind it. This room was cozy and perfect to come chill in, and also perfect to conduct meetings. Next walked in Rico, Brayden, and the twins, who all came in, spoke, and took a seat. I don’t know how Jaeda and Laela were the last to come in when they were sitting in the kitchen eating me out of house and home when I first came in here. It was a good thing money wasn’t an issue, because 5 teenagers were not the cheapest to feed.
After a few minutes of small talk with the guys, my nieces and Lexis walked in giggling probably, about some kind of gossip or whatever. I was ready to get this meeting done and over with because I had things to do. I was throwing a party for Tommy’s 21st birthday at one of the clubs that Shae and Quita worked, and I had a bunch of details to still iron out. The party was about business, but the celebration would be a great cover up.
The owner of the club, James, was in a great deal of debt and was about to lose the place, so I had convinced him to let me buy him out of it. He wouldn’t lose the club to the bank, but I would pay the bank and throw him a little something for the takeover, and I would own all rights to the club. With $50,000 extra and no bankruptcy, he could relocate and retire. I had already met with a contractor about the changes and was meeting up with them today. I had exactly two months to have all the remodeling and rehiring done before the party. The party was the unveiling of the new club.
I had changed the name from Purple Paradise to The Hideout. I had been working so hard to get everything together, and nobody even knew about it. I would be firing a few of the main dancers and replacing them with some that I had recruited through the other surrounding clubs, and I was hiring two more bartenders but for the most part, I would be keeping everybody else – unless they wanted to go. The week of the party, I would filter in the new employees and give the bartenders, waitresses, and security their new uniforms. The club will still be open during renovations but only at night until the party, and then we would go back to regular club hours.
“Okay, now that I got all the thugs in the room,” I said, leaning back and pouring myself another shot of Patrón. “I don’t need the numbers today because this wasn’t a scheduled meeting, but I did want you all to know that I’m very pleased with what is going on out on the blocks.” I looked around the room into the faces of my young team, nodding my head in approval. “It’s some young niggas in the 60’s that are looking to expand, and two of our blocks are under their scope. I’m going to need y’all eyes and ears open more than usual, because I heard these niggas are wild so I don’t know what to expect.”
In Oakland, or the “Town” as they called it, we didn’t bang colors. It was all about blocks out here; you had the hoods and blocks, and then you had the avenues. You also had other gangs that came up every few years, which were more so an assembly of friends that came together on some hustling or murder game shit and gave themselves a name. Just like Gas Squad. Out here in the Bay, it was nothing to go to another city and hustle, or move around the Town if you had affiliations – not that it wouldn’t be any static about it, but it was easy to do. The Bay Area bred hustlers, the kind of niggas that did it all from pimping to robbing, and grinding to white collar scams. If you came up out the Bay, you were well rounded in getting money because your mouthpiece was everything. Niggas from my era could talk your mama out her kitchen table and make her believe it was still there.
“So who these niggas fuck with?” asked Rico. He was a little trigger-happy, but not enough for me to be worried about it. Shit, he was mild compared to a lot of youngsters out here.
“The leader of their crew is a young nigga named Mess; he’s from 6-5 Ville and
After a few minutes of small talk with the guys, my nieces and Lexis walked in giggling probably, about some kind of gossip or whatever. I was ready to get this meeting done and over with because I had things to do. I was throwing a party for Tommy’s 21st birthday at one of the clubs that Shae and Quita worked, and I had a bunch of details to still iron out. The party was about business, but the celebration would be a great cover up.
The owner of the club, James, was in a great deal of debt and was about to lose the place, so I had convinced him to let me buy him out of it. He wouldn’t lose the club to the bank, but I would pay the bank and throw him a little something for the takeover, and I would own all rights to the club. With $50,000 extra and no bankruptcy, he could relocate and retire. I had already met with a contractor about the changes and was meeting up with them today. I had exactly two months to have all the remodeling and rehiring done before the party. The party was the unveiling of the new club.
I had changed the name from Purple Paradise to The Hideout. I had been working so hard to get everything together, and nobody even knew about it. I would be firing a few of the main dancers and replacing them with some that I had recruited through the other surrounding clubs, and I was hiring two more bartenders but for the most part, I would be keeping everybody else – unless they wanted to go. The week of the party, I would filter in the new employees and give the bartenders, waitresses, and security their new uniforms. The club will still be open during renovations but only at night until the party, and then we would go back to regular club hours.
“Okay, now that I got all the thugs in the room,” I said, leaning back and pouring myself another shot of Patrón. “I don’t need the numbers today because this wasn’t a scheduled meeting, but I did want you all to know that I’m very pleased with what is going on out on the blocks.” I looked around the room into the faces of my young team, nodding my head in approval. “It’s some young niggas in the 60’s that are looking to expand, and two of our blocks are under their scope. I’m going to need y’all eyes and ears open more than usual, because I heard these niggas are wild so I don’t know what to expect.”
In Oakland, or the “Town” as they called it, we didn’t bang colors. It was all about blocks out here; you had the hoods and blocks, and then you had the avenues. You also had other gangs that came up every few years, which were more so an assembly of friends that came together on some hustling or murder game shit and gave themselves a name. Just like Gas Squad. Out here in the Bay, it was nothing to go to another city and hustle, or move around the Town if you had affiliations – not that it wouldn’t be any static about it, but it was easy to do. The Bay Area bred hustlers, the kind of niggas that did it all from pimping to robbing, and grinding to white collar scams. If you came up out the Bay, you were well rounded in getting money because your mouthpiece was everything. Niggas from my era could talk your mama out her kitchen table and make her believe it was still there.
“So who these niggas fuck with?” asked Rico. He was a little trigger-happy, but not enough for me to be worried about it. Shit, he was mild compared to a lot of youngsters out here.
“The leader of their crew is a young nigga named Mess; he’s from 6-5 Ville and
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