Eviction Notice (18 page)

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Authors: K'wan

Tags: #Fiction, #African American, #Urban

BOOK: Eviction Notice
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CHAPTER 26

Porsha sat in
the spacious dressing room of Brick City, fixing her eighteen-inch pink wig. Jersey was foreign territory to her and she’d heard how fierce the comp could be, with girls willing to go above and beyond for a song and a dance, so she knew she’d need to step outside the box that night. Instead of a normal thong or bikini she decided to play dress-up, rocking a Warrior Princess outfit, equipped with a fake sword and bronze corset. Since she’d busted the outfit out she’d been getting compliments from the other girls and questions about where she’d gotten it, but of course Porsha wasn’t fool enough to tell.

Fifteen minutes after they’d arrived at the spot, Kat had disappeared with some guy she knew, and Porsha hadn’t seen her since. There was no doubt in Porsha’s mind what Kat was up to, but she didn’t judge her. A lot of chicks fronted like they had limits to what they would do for a dollar, but Kat didn’t have those kinds of hang-ups. Kat was about her paper and didn’t care who knew it or how they felt about it, which was one of the things Porsha admired about her.

The girls she had met at Brick City had come from all over the place for the event. Most of the out-of-town girls were cool, and just there to get their paper, but the chicks from Jersey were throwing major shade. There had been three fights that night between the chicks from Jersey and the out-of-towners, and the real ballers hadn’t even started to show up yet, so the night promised to be eventful if anything. The girls from Jersey felt like just because it was their home turf it automatically made them the favorites to win the clap-off, but that’s because they had never seen Porsha do her thing. She worked out four days per week and did Pilates every Saturday, so there was no way she planned on walking out of there without at least the rent money.

The door to the dressing room flew open and in walked a big-boned, light-skinned chick whom they called Brick House because of her statuesque build. She stood at just a hair over six feet in flat shoes, with huge breasts and one of the biggest asses Porsha had ever seen. She was a regular at Brick City so she walked around like she owned the joint, looking down on the new girls. Porsha had known her for only about a half hour and she already knew that she couldn’t stand her.

“A’ight, you bitches listen up,” Brick House’s voice boomed. “Playtime is over and the real money has arrived. We got rappers, rock stars, and gangstas, all with rock-hard dicks and fists full of money waiting in the VIP area, waiting to blow both in no particular order. So if you’re scared, keep your ass on the main floor, but if you’re about that money, get your ass in gear and let’s get it!”

“You ain’t gotta tell me twice.” A chunky stripper wearing a bad wig hopped up and shuffled toward the door. Her stretch-mark-covered ass was so big that if she was wearing a thong no one could see it.

“And where the fuck do you think you’re going?” Brick House blocked her path.

“I’m going to get my paper, where do you think I’m going?” The stripper looked up at Brick House.

“The only paper you should be worried about is a paper bag to cover that nasty-ass weave you got going on. The VIP is off-limits to you, ma. We don’t need you scaring these niggaz before we can milk them.”

“And who do you think you are to tell me where I can eat at?” the stripper challenged.

“I’m the bitch that’ll knock you unconscious if I catch you around any of my tricks,” Brick House said with ice in her voice. “Now feel free to get whatever your fat ass can scare up on the pole or the main floor, but the VIP is off-limits. And if you don’t like what I’m saying, then we can step into the bathroom for five minutes and discuss it. What you wanna do?”

The fat stripper looked around to see if anyone had her back, and of course they didn’t. “I ain’t beat for this shit, I’m going to get a drink.” The fat stripper sucked her teeth and stepped around Brick House to leave the dressing room.

“You do that, but be sure to leave some liquor for the rest of us, you fucking whale,” Brick House called after her. She walked down the aisle of benches and mirrors, examining the girls. No one would hold her evil gaze. “Some bitches just don’t get it, only top-notch chicks eat here at Brick City. If you’re a cow”—she looked at one stripper who was kind of on the chubby side—“or a skank”—she looked at another stripper—“then you play the main area and let the real hos show you how to get it up.” She stopped and let her eyes linger on Porsha, who was still tinkering with her hair in the mirror. “Nice outfit, shorty.”

“Thanks,” Porsha said without turning around to acknowledge her.

Brick House leaned in close enough to invade Porsha’s space. “I’ll bet you look better out of it than you do in it,” she whispered.

Porsha placed her hairbrush down and glared at Brick House in the mirror. “Unless you’re tipping, you’ll continue to wonder.”

Brick House smiled, showing off the gold tooth on one side of her mouth. “By the end of the night I’ll be toting a heavier bag than any bitch in this joint, so maybe we can arrange a private party.”

“Sorry, I don’t do fish.” Porsha got up and brushed past her to leave, but Brick House grabbed her arm.

“I can dig it; you’re new so you don’t know how things work in the Bricks.”

Porsha looked at Brick House’s hand as if it had been dipped in shit. “I don’t know how things work in the Bricks, but in Harlem people get hurt for touching women uninvited.” Porsha tried to jerk her arm away, but Brick House’s grip was like steel. She snatched Porsha back and shoved her against the wall, with her hand now around her neck. In her other hand she held a razor, which she ran threateningly down Porsha’s cheek.

“Look here, li’l bitch,” Brick House breathed into Porsha’s face, “you’re a long way from home so I suggest you get with the program. Brick City been mine since the day they broke ground, and I get a piece of whatever I want that comes in this muthafucka, including trump-mouthed pussy.” She jammed her knee between Porsha’s legs roughly.

“My, my, nobody told me that this was
jail night
at Brick City.” Kat strolled into the dressing room, still wearing her street clothes with her tote bag slug over her shoulder.

Brick House cut her eyes at Kat. “Don’t worry, Big Kat, you can get next on this.”

“Sorry to disappoint, Bricks, but the day li’l miss decides to swing the other way, I can assure you that I won’t be going second. But from the looks of things she hasn’t sworn off meat just yet. Why don’t you ease up, Bricks?” Kat said in a easy tone.

“C’mon, Kat, you think you can just hog every stray bitch on both sides of the Hudson River?”

“Every stray needs a warm meal from time to time. I’m sure you of all people understand that, Bricks. Besides, this one ain’t no stray, she’s with me,” Kat informed her.

Hearing this, Brick House released Porsha and took a step back. She and Kat weren’t friends but they knew each other from the circuit and shared some of the same associates. Brick House was a thug, but Kat ran with certified gangstas so you had to be ready to bring it all to dance at her party. “My fault. Had I known she was one of yours I would’ve never tried her,” she said sarcastically.

“I’m so sure,” Kat said with a smirk. “You good, ma?” she asked Porsha.

“Yeah, I’m straight.” Porsha finger combed the loose strands of her wig. As soon as she gathered her composure she rolled on Brick House and got in her face. “Bitch, you ever lay hands on me again Ima lay you.”

“You got that, shorty.” Brick House smiled and blew a kiss at Porsha.

Porsha was about to swing on Brick House, but Kat laid a calming hand on her shoulder. “Easy, li’l mama, I think the situation between you and Brick House is dead, right, Brick?” Kat turned to Brick House, who was still grinning and looking them up and down.

“Yeah, it’s a dead issue as far as I’m concerned. I’ll see y’all in the V.I.,” Brick House told them and left the dressing room. When the bully was gone, all the girls breathed a sigh of relief.

“Dyke bitch,” Porsha spat, still staring at the door.

“Baby girl, knock it off.” Kat sat on the bench and began unpacking her bag. “This is a strip club, ma. You can’t throw a rock without hitting somebody who likes pussy, has had pussy, or is seriously thinking about it. It comes with the territory, ma, so if you’re squeamish, then this is the wrong line of work for you.”

“I hear you, Kat,” Porsha said.

“Don’t just hear me, P, listen to me, because this is the second time in less than twenty-four hours that I’ve watched you walk into some bullshit that could’ve been avoided or handled different. Ma, I fucks with you all day every day because you a good chick, but at the same time I see what kinda chick you are.”

“And what do you mean by that?” Porsha sounded offended.

“Calm down, I didn’t mean no disrespect. It’s like this.” Kat stopped her unpacking and gave Porsha her full attention. “Some chicks do this as a way of life and some chicks do it as an means to an end and you fall into that category. Porsha, you ain’t like a lot of these chicks: you don’t have any kids and you ain’t tied down to a man. You do this to keep your bills paid, but you see how much bigger the world is.”

“Hell yeah I do. I don’t plan to shake my ass for singles for the rest of my days.” Porsha snaked her neck.

“And that’s exactly the point I’m trying to make here, ma. There are those of us who do this as a way of life and those of us who do it because we’re too lazy or underqualified to work a nine-to-five. Now for as sweet as the bread is, we also gotta look at the flip side. If it ain’t a trick who wants to take it beyond a lap dance trying to follow us home, it’s a nigga trying to break the condom on purpose to pass us whatever he might be carrying, and let’s not even dwell on the extra shit that goes on inside the club. How many bouncers at these clubs have tried to crack on you for a free blow job if you need a favor from them? This shit should come with hazard pay!”

“Yeah.” Porsha laughed.

“True story, Porsha. You’re laughing but I’m serious. This shit is high stakes, baby, and if you ain’t playing until the end of the game, find another table to sit at, you understand me?”

“I understand, and thanks, Kat.” Porsha nodded, absorbing Kat’s wisdom. “But on another note, what’s it looking like out there?”

“It’s looking like the name of the club, Brick City, because damn near every nigga I seen was toting a brick in his hand. I’m about to throw it on and do what I do,” Kat told her.

“You ain’t said nothing slick to a can of oil. Ima see you out on the floor,” Porsha told Kat as she prepared to head out.

“Yeah, Ima catch you in a few, but remember what I told you, Porsha. Once you crossed that state line you stepped into the big league, so be prepared for whatever it has to offer, be it good or bad.”

“I got you, Kat, and I’ll be sure to watch my ass out there,” Porsha assured her.

“I’ll watch your ass, you just watch your back.” Kat slapped Porsha on the ass playfully and went back to her unpacking.

Porsha walked down the short, crowded hallways that led from the dressing room to the main area of Brick City. There was a bathroom on each side of the hall, one marked
MEN
and the other
WOMEN
, but both sexes floated in and out of each one. In a shadowed corner near a supply closet, a young man stood with his back against the wall and his eyes rolled back in his head. Kneeling in front of him was the fat stripper Brick House had run off earlier. She took the young man’s penis into and out of her mouth slowly while fondling his balls in her hand. She paused briefly to spit on his dick, then went back to her business. Porhsa just shook her head and continued out into the main area.

Porsha was surprised when she saw all the people who had packed the strip joint. Four girls danced on the long stage behind the bar while at least two dozen more worked the room. It looked more like a nightclub, with people dancing, drinking, and fulfilling fantasies in private and in public. Porsha felt the telltale butterflies in her stomach that she hadn’t felt since the first time she’d taken her clothes off in a room full of men. There was definitely more competition in Brick City than she had anticipated, but she was determined to get hers.

Porsha saw Sahara sitting at the bar, nursing a drink and trying to ignore some dude who was all up in her space. She looked considerably better than she had a few hours prior, having slicked her hair back and attached a long ponytail to it. With the way her black miniskirt clung to her wide hips, it was no wonder she was getting harassed. Sahara was a pretty girl and could’ve easily made a few dollars for herself at Brick City, but her heart wasn’t in it. Instead, she had come along for the ride to keep her friend company and her mind off their pending money problems.

“Excuse you,” Porsha said, sliding between Sahara and the young man. He turned his attention from Sahara to Porsha, but when she ignored him and gave him her back, he took the hint and moved on.

“Girl, thanks. I’ve been trying to get rid of that nigga for the last ten minutes, but the muthafucka acted like I was speaking a foreign language,” Sahara told her.

“You know how some of these muthafuckas can be,” Porsha said while waving to get the bartender’s attention. She ordered two shots of Rémy and slid one to Sahara. “So, what do you think of the place?”

“This shit is off da hook,” Sahara said, openly admiring the club. “And it’s definitely some money in the building.” She eyed a dude who had just walked in wearing an ice-flooded chain.

“I told you that you should’ve thrown something together and got down with me on this,” Porsha reminded her.

“Thanks, but no thanks. I’ll leave the ass shaking to you qualified bitches,” Sahara joked.

“And there ain’t too many as qualified as I am.” Porsha lifted her ass off the seat and started popping it. A handful of singles seemed to fall from the sky, raining over Porsha and Sahara.

“Damn, you make that ass move like it’s got a mind of its own.” Sahara stared at Porsha in wonder.

“It does, and its mind is always on money.” Porsha slammed her shot. “Look, I’m about to get to work, but I’ll come back and check on you in a few, okay?”

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