said, ‘Hol’ up, shawtie, you might see me in the streets but you 'on't know me.’ Imani, he sound just like a rapper.”
“Jamal, stop lyin'! I already told you about lyin' so much!”
“Imani, I ain't lyin', you shoulda heard him, she told him ‘My Adidas'll walk all over your face, dawg. Punk, lazy-eye niggah! Then he said, ‘Punk? Lazy-eye? You tryna flex? You booty-scratchin' fart face! Yo' breath smell like pissy eggs! And if you mess with me, I'll knock yo' teeth out and put 'em back in crooked!' Yo, that's a wild boy, Imani!”
Imani was trying her best not to laugh. She knew she couldn'tcondone Jamal telling lies, but what he'd just said sounded so ridiculous that she couldn't help it. She hit the mute button and fell out. Jamal continued to ramble on. Imani took a deep breath, unmuted the phone, and resumed her conversation. “Enough with the lies, Jamal! Stop it! You know what, you can't watch the
Chappelle's Show
no more!”
“I ain't lyin', Imani! They were!”
“I mean it, now I love you and good-bye,” she said sternly. Imani pressed the end button on the phone but held the receiver in her hand. “I don't know what I'ma do with that boy.” Placing the phone back on the base, she glanced at a picture of her and Walik sitting on top of her TV. “Y'all know when I got home earlier today, I reported that bitch, Shante, to welfare.”
“Get the fuck outta here, who'd you call?” Sabrena asked.
“Welfare Fraud has a twenty-four-hour hotline, and I blew that bitch's spot up. I said, ‘Hello this is an anonymous call, and I'd like to report Shante Smith of 1252 Church Avenue, apartment 13D. She's receiving state welfare and she's working full time at Citibank in Midtown.’ I could tell that fuckin' operator felt like she'd won the lottery. She said, ‘We will get on this right away. It's people like this that keep our taxes rising. Have a good evening, miss.’ ”
“Good for the bitch,” Tasha said.
“Humph, you better be careful,” Sabrena warned as she looked around the room. “She ain't the only one with a caseworker and j-o-b, all y'all niggahs in the same boat.”
“Whatever, Sabrena.” Quiana dismissed her. “But yo' on some real shit,” Sabrena continued, “maybe you need to walk away. Walik keeps doing the same shit over and over again.”
“Walk away?” Imani snapped, getting defensive. “That's my son's father.”
“Bitch.” Quiana flicked her hand. “
You
was the one who said
you
needed to leave his ass alone and now you acting like Sabrenacrazy. Leaving his ass is quite simple, all you have to say is
Bye ma'-fucker.
”
“For real,” Tasha agreed. “Shit, all you doing is dismissing the dick, not the child support. Matter of fact, what you really need to do is call your Welfare caseworker and give her that niggah's real name and Social Security number. Hem his ass up in child-support court.”
Imani sucked her teeth. “Please, so Welfare can take the money? Spare me. Plus, I ain't giving him away so that bitch can have him all the time, hell no!”
“What the fuck is you giving away?” Quiana countered. “Imani, Walik is a bum.”
“Quiana, I know you ain't talkin',” Imani snapped, “not when you snuck and married Quinton on Family and Friends Day in the middle of the prison yard. And when he came home he still beat yo' ass and he wasn't even holdin' no paper.” Imani pointed to Tasha. “Correct me if I'm wrong but weren't you and Shay, from Norstand, pregnant at the same time?”
“Oh no you didn't!” Tasha looked at Imani like she was crazy.
“Have you lost your mind, Imani?” Sabrena asked.
“Sabrena, you got nerve.” Imani looked her up and down. “When Umar went to prison you ain't never hold him down, not even for one day.”
“What the fuck I look like to you? A dumb bitch? That niggah was selling bootleg CDs. He couldn't at least catch a gun charge? Fuckin' CDs, come on now. I'm embarrassed. That's some real punk shit.”
“Jamal, stop lyin'! I already told you about lyin' so much!”
“Imani, I ain't lyin', you shoulda heard him, she told him ‘My Adidas'll walk all over your face, dawg. Punk, lazy-eye niggah! Then he said, ‘Punk? Lazy-eye? You tryna flex? You booty-scratchin' fart face! Yo' breath smell like pissy eggs! And if you mess with me, I'll knock yo' teeth out and put 'em back in crooked!' Yo, that's a wild boy, Imani!”
Imani was trying her best not to laugh. She knew she couldn'tcondone Jamal telling lies, but what he'd just said sounded so ridiculous that she couldn't help it. She hit the mute button and fell out. Jamal continued to ramble on. Imani took a deep breath, unmuted the phone, and resumed her conversation. “Enough with the lies, Jamal! Stop it! You know what, you can't watch the
Chappelle's Show
no more!”
“I ain't lyin', Imani! They were!”
“I mean it, now I love you and good-bye,” she said sternly. Imani pressed the end button on the phone but held the receiver in her hand. “I don't know what I'ma do with that boy.” Placing the phone back on the base, she glanced at a picture of her and Walik sitting on top of her TV. “Y'all know when I got home earlier today, I reported that bitch, Shante, to welfare.”
“Get the fuck outta here, who'd you call?” Sabrena asked.
“Welfare Fraud has a twenty-four-hour hotline, and I blew that bitch's spot up. I said, ‘Hello this is an anonymous call, and I'd like to report Shante Smith of 1252 Church Avenue, apartment 13D. She's receiving state welfare and she's working full time at Citibank in Midtown.’ I could tell that fuckin' operator felt like she'd won the lottery. She said, ‘We will get on this right away. It's people like this that keep our taxes rising. Have a good evening, miss.’ ”
“Good for the bitch,” Tasha said.
“Humph, you better be careful,” Sabrena warned as she looked around the room. “She ain't the only one with a caseworker and j-o-b, all y'all niggahs in the same boat.”
“Whatever, Sabrena.” Quiana dismissed her. “But yo' on some real shit,” Sabrena continued, “maybe you need to walk away. Walik keeps doing the same shit over and over again.”
“Walk away?” Imani snapped, getting defensive. “That's my son's father.”
“Bitch.” Quiana flicked her hand. “
You
was the one who said
you
needed to leave his ass alone and now you acting like Sabrenacrazy. Leaving his ass is quite simple, all you have to say is
Bye ma'-fucker.
”
“For real,” Tasha agreed. “Shit, all you doing is dismissing the dick, not the child support. Matter of fact, what you really need to do is call your Welfare caseworker and give her that niggah's real name and Social Security number. Hem his ass up in child-support court.”
Imani sucked her teeth. “Please, so Welfare can take the money? Spare me. Plus, I ain't giving him away so that bitch can have him all the time, hell no!”
“What the fuck is you giving away?” Quiana countered. “Imani, Walik is a bum.”
“Quiana, I know you ain't talkin',” Imani snapped, “not when you snuck and married Quinton on Family and Friends Day in the middle of the prison yard. And when he came home he still beat yo' ass and he wasn't even holdin' no paper.” Imani pointed to Tasha. “Correct me if I'm wrong but weren't you and Shay, from Norstand, pregnant at the same time?”
“Oh no you didn't!” Tasha looked at Imani like she was crazy.
“Have you lost your mind, Imani?” Sabrena asked.
“Sabrena, you got nerve.” Imani looked her up and down. “When Umar went to prison you ain't never hold him down, not even for one day.”
“What the fuck I look like to you? A dumb bitch? That niggah was selling bootleg CDs. He couldn't at least catch a gun charge? Fuckin' CDs, come on now. I'm embarrassed. That's some real punk shit.”
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