We talked shit the rest of our way to Columbia where we stopped to check in on that location. Out of the five locations, I oversaw the Charleston and Columbia locations. My mother and grandma oversaw the Clover location. My grandma didn’t like to sit her ass down, so we gave her something to do. My sister, Bethany, oversaw our Lake Wylie and Charlotte locations.
All our locations had managers, so we weren’t necessarily needed on a daily or even weekly basis. I did check my locations out at least once a week because I wanted fuckers to know that I was around, and at any given time, I could pop the hell up.
“I told Jess to stop hiring these stupid ass girls. She wants to give people chances like it’s her shit and she can’t be fired too. The fuck!” I blew my frustration out with the blunt smoke.
When I made the plan to ride to Charleston today, I had no plans to stop in Columbia. I had just been there two days prior, so I didn’t feel the need to. On the way back from Charleston, there was this itch in my ass to stop by. I knew my ass was clean, so it wasn’t itching because a nigga was dirty. That meant that it had to be my gut telling me that something was not right. My gut was always right, and this time was no different.
I got there to find one of my damn servers getting fucked in the bathroom. In the middle of the damn day with a section of tables that was full. When I didn’t see a server go into the section for over fifteen minutes and there was prepared food in the window, I knew something was up. Jess had no idea where the getting fucked in the bathroom fuck girl was. Took less than two minutes to find her ass.
Jess didn’t want to fire her ass, so I did. When I firedfuck-a-lot, all she wanted me to know was that she wasn’t a ho. She felt the need to stress that it was her boyfriend that was slamming her cakes in the middle of the workday.
“Damn, man, you had Jess in there about to cry. She just knew her ass was fired,” Joshua said with a chuckle. “That’s a damn shame.”
I huffed. “Once I tell my mama and grandma, she still might get fired.” I glanced at him. “Now, you know Sandra might give her grace, but Catherine will say fuck that bitch before I finish the story.”
Joshua burst into laughter. “Bro, Grams knows she doesn’t give a damn about anyone that’s not a Abloy or Nichols. I died when she asked that lady at Piggly Wiggly if she’d just gotten off from her job as one of the gargoyles that guarded hell. She told the lady that she had a dog, gorilla, sloth mix kind of face.”
My laugh found its way into the conversation. If fuck your feelings was a person, it would be Catherine Deers. At seventy-six years old, she was still a firecracker. I loved the hell out of the women in my life, just like my father did.Damn, I miss my dad.
We talked about bullshit for the rest of the ride back to Clover, South Carolina. I pulled up to Joshua’s house to drop him off. His house was on land that his family owned and was passed to him when he turned twenty-one. His father still lived in the house that he grew up in on the opposite end of the land.
“I’aight, bro. Hit me up later if something pops off. I’m gonna be on the farm tomorrow, checking on shit,” he told me.
“I’aight, bro. I’ll holla at you.” We dapped each other before he made his way into his house. It was time to spend time with my ladies.
Mama’s House . . .
“See, when you hired that lady, I told you that she was a punk. No, y’all thought I was being too judgy. Now look at this shit. Y’all let that lady turn our restaurant into a whore house with whore waitresses doing whorish shit. You can’t leave these hussy whores unchecked for too long because their whore tingles gets to tingling.” My grandma was in her fuck that bitch zone.
My mama and grandma lived in the same house. Most thought that it was my grandma that needed to have someone living with her, but it was my mama. Five years ago, my mother was in a bad car accident. Her recovery was hell on all of us. My grandma moved in to help, and she never left.
My house was about a mile from their house on our family land. My sister’s house was next door to mine. Some of the hundred acres that we owned were leased to other small farms, but my mother had no desire to sell any portions at this point.
When I arrived at the house, I told myself that I wouldn’t tell them, but I swore these women could read me. I told them what went down, and it was a wrap from there. “Grandma, you say the word whore like you’re getting paid to do it.”
When her top lip twitched and her brows knitted together, I wanted to laugh. “You like fuckin’ with me, Bolt. What you want me to call their asses?” Before I could respond, she lifted her hand to stop me. “Don’t say shit to me if it doesn’t consist of you telling me that a whore is a whore is a whore. Now pay me six hundred dollars for my words.”
My mama stood in front of the stove mixing a pot of lima beans and laughing. “Mama, why are you so crazy? Why my baby boy has to give you six hundred dollars?”
“Ain’t that the going whore rate these days? Well, at least for whores fuckin’ in restaurant bathrooms. See, now I need a cool thousand dollars.” My grandma held her hand out to me from where she sat at the kitchen table. When I asked her if she wasserious about me giving her a band, she gawked at me like I had three heads. “You damn right.”
There was no use arguing with this woman. I pulled out my cash, flaked off ten hundred-dollar bills, then handed them to her. She recounted it like she didn’t just watch me count it out, before she folded it and tucked it into her bra. “Since we’re talkin’ about whores, Sandra, tell this boy about that girl.” My grandma glanced at me, winked, then said, “That’s a freebie, baby boy.”
These women are hell!I turned my attention to my beautiful mama. “Mama, what whore do you need to tell me about?”
She didn’t say anything until she mixed the pot for another second before she put the top back on it. Time had proven with the matriarchs of my family that Black in fact did not crack. At fifty-nine years old, my mama killed the game. Sandra minded her family, business, and God. According to her, that was how you stayed out of jail. “Let me tell you about that lil girl, Anna,” she blurted as soon as her butt hit the empty seat at the table.
Why the hell does this girl keep coming up! Wait . . .“Mama, how do you know Anna?”
Anna was just a fuck buddy that I fucked with in the cover of tinted windows or closed hotel room curtains. We didn’t chill, go out together, or any of that kind of shit. She called when she wanted dick, and I called when I wanted pussy. There was no way my mama should have known anything about her ass.
She crossed her arms over her chest. “I met her earlier today when me and Mama were at the store. She felt the need to let me know that you and her were dating and had been for a while. Bolt, now I think I know enough about you to know that if you were truly dating someone that I would know about it.”
Yo! This damn Anna is wild!“Mama, you know good and well if I had a woman that you would be the first to know about it. You already know how I do.”
At thirty-seven, I didn’t have the time or patience to play with women’s feelings. I wasn’t out here putting dick to a bunch of different females, because I didn’t have the time to manage a bunch of different dick obsessed women either. When I did stick dick to a female, she knew exactly what it was before I touched her, and I made sure that they understood it. It seemed like the understanding that Anna and I had expired.
“See, when that whore stopped us in the store, I smelled the whorism all over her. It has a distinctive smell of bull-fuck-shittery!” I was convinced that my grandma sat in her room with a notepad and created compound curse words. What the fuck wasbull-fuck-shittery? Her hand tapped the table and pulled me out of my short daze. “That’s four hundred. Let me get that.”
