me.
I drove eighty five miles an hour, my mind racing, guilt rid-
den. In History I read that lust, in the form of passion or pussy,
had been known to start wars. As a young woman I was just begin-
ning to learn, a lot. A man would actually go to great lengths to
impress a woman. And I had never been sexed like that before.
Hope, can I lick you here … touch you there … it takes a thousand
strokes to please a Black woman,
I remembered him telling me. I
heard my mouth blurt out, “If you like you can call me at the sta-
tion. I host a show on campus radio. It’s called The Panther Power
Hour. We deal with issues like Affirmative Action, Police brutali-
ty –”
“ Listen, dig,” he interr upted. “I ain’t finta start nuttin wit you
I can’t finish. You don’t owe me nuttin, aight?” Then he turned
and looked at me, “Besides you wasn’t all that anyway.”
I turned up the volume so high on the stereo it sounded like
it was going to bust the speakers. He cringed and looked at me like
I was crazy. We drove the rest of the way not speaking and me still
not believing the last twenty-four hours of my life.
I finally reached Tallahassee and I drove down Tennessee
Street. There is so much human electricity in this college town
that it pulsates. You can actually feel it, like your own heartbeat,
that is if you are young, 21 years old and hungry to succeed like I
was. I was happy to be back on my old stomping grounds. Life
was looking out the window like a kid in a candy store. Women
of all ethnicities walked the streets. I pulled into the new Holiday
Inn that had just been built. Life turned and watched me. For
some reason I thought of an old saying,
penny for your thoughts
.
*****
43
Chapter Five
Chapter Five
“ The Land of Milk and Honey”
– Life –
I was watching this broad Hope, she done played a nigga like a
piano. I could see she felt like shit, guilty conscience and all. I
wanted her to marinate in it. I knew she felt bad about having to
accept this car plus me selling her old piece of junk. She thought
this car cost a lot of money. Hell, I hacked off that much money
in a strip club, besides, I could make it back in an hour hustling.
Now, as I looked at her, I was filled with envy, lust and some more
shit. I couldn’t believe she gave me that lame ass excuse, talking
‘ bout she got a man. Fuck her! I was a playa. I needed a bitch
about as bad as a fish needed a raincoat. I was forced to admit, that
was some gangsta shit she pulled at the mall, rescuing me from the
police and her sex was sweet and pure like it was the first time I
ever made love to a woman. Afterward, I had to smoke a cigarette
and watched her as she slept, thinking how God knew what he
was doing when he created Woman.
She pulled up at the hotel. Sadly, it kind of disturbed me. I
knew it was the end of the road for us but it was all-good. I knew
that I was going to take over this town, little by little, this was
what we hustlers called fertile land. A nice-sized city with plenty
of money. My plan was to make a couple million, build a small
bankroll and get out of the game, so I thought.
I reached into my pocket and put on my two chunky
44
L i f e
bracelets, and the fat iced-out chain I took from the police back
there at the hotel. As I pulled out my bankroll, I could see Hope
watching me through the corner of her eye. So I stunted for her
doing what playas do. Money, hoes and clothes is all a brotha
knows. Then I gave her my best Mack pose, leaning against the car
door, I took of my Kangol and caressed the waves on my head like
I was blessing myself. I just transformed right before her eyes.
“ Here.” I passed her two crispy one hundred dollar bills. “Go
get me a hotel room, the biggest room they got with a view of the
pool,” I said just like I intended, a command, showing no respect
for her. Hope sucked her tongue as she turned and glowered at
me. If
I drove eighty five miles an hour, my mind racing, guilt rid-
den. In History I read that lust, in the form of passion or pussy,
had been known to start wars. As a young woman I was just begin-
ning to learn, a lot. A man would actually go to great lengths to
impress a woman. And I had never been sexed like that before.
Hope, can I lick you here … touch you there … it takes a thousand
strokes to please a Black woman,
I remembered him telling me. I
heard my mouth blurt out, “If you like you can call me at the sta-
tion. I host a show on campus radio. It’s called The Panther Power
Hour. We deal with issues like Affirmative Action, Police brutali-
ty –”
“ Listen, dig,” he interr upted. “I ain’t finta start nuttin wit you
I can’t finish. You don’t owe me nuttin, aight?” Then he turned
and looked at me, “Besides you wasn’t all that anyway.”
I turned up the volume so high on the stereo it sounded like
it was going to bust the speakers. He cringed and looked at me like
I was crazy. We drove the rest of the way not speaking and me still
not believing the last twenty-four hours of my life.
I finally reached Tallahassee and I drove down Tennessee
Street. There is so much human electricity in this college town
that it pulsates. You can actually feel it, like your own heartbeat,
that is if you are young, 21 years old and hungry to succeed like I
was. I was happy to be back on my old stomping grounds. Life
was looking out the window like a kid in a candy store. Women
of all ethnicities walked the streets. I pulled into the new Holiday
Inn that had just been built. Life turned and watched me. For
some reason I thought of an old saying,
penny for your thoughts
.
*****
43
Chapter Five
Chapter Five
“ The Land of Milk and Honey”
– Life –
I was watching this broad Hope, she done played a nigga like a
piano. I could see she felt like shit, guilty conscience and all. I
wanted her to marinate in it. I knew she felt bad about having to
accept this car plus me selling her old piece of junk. She thought
this car cost a lot of money. Hell, I hacked off that much money
in a strip club, besides, I could make it back in an hour hustling.
Now, as I looked at her, I was filled with envy, lust and some more
shit. I couldn’t believe she gave me that lame ass excuse, talking
‘ bout she got a man. Fuck her! I was a playa. I needed a bitch
about as bad as a fish needed a raincoat. I was forced to admit, that
was some gangsta shit she pulled at the mall, rescuing me from the
police and her sex was sweet and pure like it was the first time I
ever made love to a woman. Afterward, I had to smoke a cigarette
and watched her as she slept, thinking how God knew what he
was doing when he created Woman.
She pulled up at the hotel. Sadly, it kind of disturbed me. I
knew it was the end of the road for us but it was all-good. I knew
that I was going to take over this town, little by little, this was
what we hustlers called fertile land. A nice-sized city with plenty
of money. My plan was to make a couple million, build a small
bankroll and get out of the game, so I thought.
I reached into my pocket and put on my two chunky
44
L i f e
bracelets, and the fat iced-out chain I took from the police back
there at the hotel. As I pulled out my bankroll, I could see Hope
watching me through the corner of her eye. So I stunted for her
doing what playas do. Money, hoes and clothes is all a brotha
knows. Then I gave her my best Mack pose, leaning against the car
door, I took of my Kangol and caressed the waves on my head like
I was blessing myself. I just transformed right before her eyes.
“ Here.” I passed her two crispy one hundred dollar bills. “Go
get me a hotel room, the biggest room they got with a view of the
pool,” I said just like I intended, a command, showing no respect
for her. Hope sucked her tongue as she turned and glowered at
me. If
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