A Pimp's Life by Treasure Hernandez

Author:Treasure Hernandez [Hernandez, Treasure]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Urban, African American, General
ISBN: 9781599831473
Google: 8rU0YhOzjg4C
Amazon: 1601621515
Publisher: Urban Soul
Published: 2009-01-27T00:00:00+00:00

As we parked in a White Castle parking lot in Hempstead, Long Island, Gordy bragged, “Did you see how that bitch crumbled when I snuffed her?” He kissed his fist. “That bitch dropped like a fly.”

“She deserved it.”

“Damn, man,” Gordy said as he stepped out of my truck, “it’s like fo’ in the morning and look at all them young boys up in there, son.”

“I just wasn’t trying to do the drive-thru thang. We getting our food and bouncing. Five minutes.”

“A’ight, man.”

We entered the dirty little castle and waited on line. The late-teenage and twenty-something-year-old boys threw food back and forth across the table at each other and made as much noise as they could. We paid absolutely no attention to them, until a fish sandwich with extra tartar sauce sliding out its ends and meant for one of the boys running by Gordy hit his three-hundred-dollar denim outfit.

Everything got quiet.

Gordy slowly turned around and pulled the tartar off his sleeve.

I grabbed the bags from the counter. “A’ight, Gord, we got the food. Let’s be out.” I knew how Gordy was. If I’d given him a second longer to react, it wasn’t gonna be pretty. You can always tell when niggaz is dumb, though, because you never know who be packing when you talk shit.

One of the assholes said, “Yeah, better keep walking, bitch!”

Gordy wasn’t going to let that shit fly.

I dropped the bags and followed him as he rushed back inside.

He pulled out his gun. “A’ight, I’m not gonna even play the who-said-it game. I’m popping who I think said it.”

When he cocked the jammie, they started arguing amongst each other about who said it, until the instigator was pushed to the front line.

Gordy smacked his face and made him strip. He cried as he took off his clothes. Nobody was laughing when Gordy made him run through traffic to the other side of the street. I made his friends lay on their stomachs, with my gun on them.

“I should shoot one of you clown-ass niggaz for tryin’-a play me. I’m a grown man. Know who you fucking with—It’s Gordy from Queens, niggaz.” He let off a few shots in the air.

“Come on, man.” I grabbed his arm. “We gotta go.”

Gordy gave one of the boys a kick to the head before jumping in the ride with the dude’s clothes from the castle. Then he yelled out to the boy across the street, “Get home to y’all’s momma!”

When the restaurant was no longer in the rearview, Gordy threw his clothes out the window. He laughed out of control. “Now I ain’t had that much fun in a long time.”

“Fun, nigga? Intimidating kids is fun for you? Nigga, we both on video in the store, both of us, all because of you and your temper.”

“Yo, what the fuck is wrong with you? You just gonna let some kids throw food at you and walk away? So one day when I’m walking down the street I see that same muthafucka and he thinking, There go that bitch I threw a fish sandwich at, and he didn’t say shit.

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