My shitty ass job was pissing me off today. There was an abnormal amount of call outs today and I had an eight table section to myself.... great.
"I'm sorry everyone, we're greatly short staffed. I'll be heading over to everyone's tables as soon as I can," I announced, out of breath as I continued to run around the diner like a turkey with its head chopped off.
Another reason why I was pissed was the smell of my uniform. With Rayquan doing nothing but smoking weed all day, my uniform was the victim of his substance abuse.
Also, there was a purple stain hideously on the right side of my chest from this mornings breakfast, which really was just a slice of toast that I had smeared butter and grape jelly on top of.
But in all honesty, my mind was all over the place. Partially because I was trying to figure out my short term goals.
Yesterday, I realized that I was tired of my life. I was tired of Rayquan and I was tired of boosting to fulfill whatever hole I had in my heart from being super broke.
There was about two thousand dollars I have stashed under the floorboards in the bedroom. Enough to maybe leave Rayquan and get my own place?
I was snapped out of thoughts by a constant dinging. It was time to bring out everyone's food. This was going to be a long ass day...
My day ended with sweat dripping down my back and my armpits. Being a waitress fucking sucked. With the diner having a two star rating on yelp, I never went home with more than $30 in tips. Hell, some people would sometimes just leave behind loose change like quarters and dimes.
As I walked home tired and disappointed, my eyes locked onto the bright lights that I saw after every job day. The same lights that tempted me in ways that made me feel unholy.
Tootsies Exotic Dancing
The strip club.
Laura and I would always joke around about stuff like this. When we were seniors, I just about spent every weekend at her house. She wanted to learn some moves before Prom came up and I showed her.
Of course Laura wasn't built like me but I still made it my mission to show her how moves her hips and shake the little cakes she did have on her backside.
You could definitely be a stripper if you wanted to girl! Look at your body. Thick thighs, wide hips, booty out of this world! I'd always recall her saying.
Who the hell was I fooling? I couldn't do that. Show my naked body to a bunch of old, probably married men. I didn't have the guts.
When I made it back to Rayquans place, I was burning up and panting. I'd walked 12 long ass blocks from the diner back home, in 90° weather.
"Hey," I call out, locking the door behind me, falling onto the floor as the central air immediately took affect on my body.
After a few minutes of silence passed. Now that my body temperature was under control and the sweating had stopped, I peeled myself off of the floor and went to inspect the house.
Surprisingly, Rayquan wasn't even home. Good.
I stripped out of my sticky waitress uniform and turned on the shower. The best part of my day was showering. As I lathered up my body, I heard my cell phone ringing nonstop but I ignored it. No one important was ever hitting my line.
Or so I thought.
When I finally made it out, I wrapped myself in a towel and shimmied over to my cellphone. I had 5 missed calls from Rayquan. And he also left one distinct text message.
Ray🖤: don't go home until I tell you to.
What the fuck was this about? Whatever weird shit was going on, I wanted no parts of it.
A loud banging from the front door gave me chills. The last time someone banged like that, it was Rayquan coming home drunk, and taking his anger out on me.
I made sure my towel was secure around my naked body before answering.
"Who is it?" I yell from inside the apartment.
"Carl," the deep voice says. Carl? Nigga what are you doing here? Especially since Rayquan ain't home.
"Yes?" I ask, a hint of annoyance in my voice.
"Open up. It's important..." Carl trails off awkwardly. "It's about-" he paused, "Ray."
In no time the chain was off the door and I was yanking it open.
Carl chuckled, making his way inside, plopping down on the couch like he paid the rent in this bitch.
"Nigga, what the fuck is going on? Is Rayquan alright?!" I exclaim, standing over him, a little upset at his nonchalant attitude.
"Oh yeah, he super good. I came to check up on you," Carl tells me, standing up so now his tall, thick build was hovering over me.
Check up on me? What?
I was no stranger to men who had this type of behavior. He wanted something. And it wasn't to borrow some household sugar.
I backed up a bit.
"Uh-uh. Where you think you going shorty?" Carl questioned me, attempting to put his hand on my face.
At this point, I knew I had to do something. I had to go.
I bolted to the kitchen, Carl had snatched the towel from around my chest, leaving me running around the house naked.
"I've waited too damn long for you, Karma! I don't mind playing these games cus' either way I see it, you're gonna give me what I want. It don't gotta be now, but it will be today." Carl says out loud, sounding like a true fucking creep, following behind me to the kitchen.
I picked up an old skillet I used whenever I cooked for Rayquan and whacked Carl on the back of the head, watching him stumble before eventually falling to the floor.
What the fuck was going on?
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