I'm Still Wifey by Swinson Kiki

Author:Swinson, Kiki [Swinson, Kiki]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Melodrama Publishing
Published: 2012-01-08T06:00:00+00:00

Anything 4 Profit

Since we have passed the dinner and a movie stage, Mark invited me to hang out with him at a dog fight tonight, which is a major gambling spot for him. When I accepted his invitation, he told me to be ready to leave the crib by ten p.m. And once Nikki got word that Syncere was going to be there as well, she happily volunteered herself to accompany us along for the ride.

“So, where is this dog fight suppose to be at?” Nikki asked from the back seat.

Now, being as though I wasn’t driving and was unaware of our destination, I let Mark answer her question. “In P-town, Portsmouth, VA, at this spot ran by this old dude.”

“So what happens at a dog fight?” Nikki continued.

“It’s just a spot where a whole bunch of niggas gather around and watch two pits go at each other’s asses.

“That’s it?” Nikki replied in a disappointing manner.

“Yeah, if you ain’t got money in the pot.”

“Oh, so y’all be gambling off that shit?” Her questions continued.

“Nah. It’s called eating!” Mark began to explain. “That’s how a lot of niggas be getting it these days.”

“Does Syncere bet too?” she wanted to know.

“Big time. That nigga goes hard at these fights.”

“Well, I sure hope he wins tonight. Because I could sure use a new paint job on my car.”

“I know that’s right!” I agreed in a humorous fashion.

The ride to this back wood section of P-town was centered around a lot of farm land. It had to be every bit of thirty acres of wooded area. We traveled down a long, dirt road, without a street light in sight, that led us to this rundown-looking warehouse with an assortment of late-model whips and SUVs. Once Mark found a parking space, Nikki and I were on our way to see what was behind door number one.

Immediately after we were let in through the double steel doors, a thick cloud of smoke grabbed me right by the throat and choked the hell out of me. It seemed like every cat in there was puffing on something or another, which became an instant turn-off for me, but I kept my mouth shut. The last thing I wanted to do was start complaining. Tonight is Mark’s night, so I am going to let him do him.

Moments later, Mark escorted us to a set of bleachers surrounded by a small fenced-in ring, which I am assuming was where the dogs would fight.

“Y’all sit right here while I go put my bet in,” he told us and then he disappeared into a crowded corner in the opposite side of the warehouse.

“I wonder how much money he’s getting ready to put up?” I said aloud, awaiting a response from Nikki.

“Shit! I don’t know. But from the looks of the cats walking around here, it ain’t going to be chump change.”

Instead of commenting, I giggled because I was suddenly beginning to agree with her assumption. The niggas that were parading around here look like they got it going the fuck on, sporting their beautiful jewels, fresh whites (D.

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