Get Ready for War (28 page)

“What in the boom-bop hell?! Here you go again. You don't follow instructions, do you? You just do what you wanna do. Always trying to be the boss! You really need to learn some respect and hear me when I say this—and this is gon' be the last time I check you politely—Don't call me by my government.” I cocked my neck and bucked my eyes wide open.
I am about sick of her disrespecting me!

“Well, what would you like me to call you?” She looked baffled.

“Oh, now you wanna play stupid.” This chick knew how to send me straight to twenty! “You know my name is Rich, London. So that's all you need to call me. Rich. My government is off-limits!” I held up a hand and did a chop.

She gave me a blank stare.

I popped my lips and said, “Now pick your face up, punkin. And simply own the fact that you're wrong for that! I don't call you by your government. I don't call you London Elona Phillips! And why do you keep staring at me like I have three or four heads. What? Do I have a stain on me?”

London blinked about three times before she came out of her trance and said, “For two nights straight, you have had me partying hoodlum-style—like hood hoes are what we need to be. Now I don't know what you fantasize about or dream about at night, but my dreams don't involve guns, stolen cars, cheap drinks, or cheesy clubs! I don't party with these kinds of people. And I don't care if they all look young. It's weird. And I feel like an old head standing here! And just so you know, Rich
is
your government name!”

It took everything in me not to bust London dead in her throat. “Yo' azz is crazy!”

I turned toward my baby, who had just walked up and handed me my beer. Knox leaned in and kissed me on the lips. And Doctor Corny being the knockoff that he was, was of course trying too hard when he leaned over and desperately tried to get his C-Smoove on, trying to kiss Ms. Uptight Drawls on the lips.

Fail.

She played him. Took her left hand, held it up in his face, and instead of his lips landing on hers, they kissed her palm—leaving Doctor Corny with his face cracked.

I would've laughed had I not just remembered the very reason Miss Potpourri Panties would never keep a man. She was a virgin. Or at least that's the story she wanted me to believe.
What. Ever!

Before Anderson could get his face together and London could get her mind right, a man walked onto the stage. He must've been the MC. He grabbed the mic and said, “Welcome to Muddy Moments couples karaoke night!”

The crowd clapped and cheered.

Karaoke was my thing! What-what! Hell, I could sing, but I could also bust a rhyme like no other. After all, my daddy was one of the original MCs. Okay!

Snap. Snap.

The MC continued, “So we hope y'all came here to have a good time!”

“I know I did!” I yelled and London looked at me with her eyes popped wide open.

“Tonight's grand prize is five hundred dollars in cash.”

Instantly I felt deflated.
What kind of prize is that? A mess...

“And a platter of honey-coated hot wings and a bucket of ribs, on the house!”

Oh, hell yeah! Just that fast I have my mojo back! Now that's what I'm talking about!
I broke out into the running man. Did a Soulja Boy Superman move, mixed it with a booty bounce, and ended it with a pop-back-up-in-place. “Oooo, hot wings, that's right up my alley! Babe, you know we got this in the bag! You know this is ours! Hell, I'm so psyched that I might even save Midnight and his Lil Bit a rib!”

Knox laughed. “My baby is serious, huh? You on those wings!”

“Hell yeah, I feel like Lil Bit at the Dairy Queen. I might hand-hook somebody.”

“Oh. My. God,” London mumbled. “How soon we forget where we come from.”

I blinked. Quickly thought about turning around to lay this chick down, but then changed my mind. “Knox,” I said. “Hook it up, baby. Go on and put our names on the list. And tell them we gon' amp this party up a bit. We gon' put it down with “Money, Power and Respect.” The remix. Now excuse me.”

I turned around toward London, locked arms with hers, and before she could protest, I walked her swiftly to the bathroom—which was tight as hell with only two stalls and one pedestal sink. For a moment, I had to do a double take. This place was homey. Country. Cheap. And yeah, cheesy. And plagued with more hand-painted signs than a lil bit. There was even a sign on the bathroom window that read
IT'S A BRICK WALL WITH NO EXIT OUT THERE, SO I SUGGEST YOU TURN AROUND, GO BACK, AND PAY FOR YOUR FOOD
!

But whatever, I didn't have time to analyze the decor in the bathroom. I wanted to get my good time on, and my bestie-boo was wreckin' my fun-flow.

“What the hell is your problem here!” I slammed my hand on the sink. “Do you have multiple personalities? 'Cause who was she last night that was at the frat party? The one who had a good time? I need to see that chick again. 'Cause you are boring me to pieces. And I don't do boredom.”

“And obviously you don't do class either!” she snapped. “Now all I know is that I need to get out of here. I need a shower!”

“Then bounce! Nobody is holding you hostage here. Pow. Pow. Pow. Bounce, baby, bounce.” I held my arms out like I was riding a motorcycle and revved the engine. “Make it happen. 'Cause you and your dead weight are too much to carry. My man and I, and even Doctor-Corny-by-day-and-C-Smoove-by-night, are trying to have a good time, like we did last night. We tryna bring sexy back. And we will do it with or without you. Trust. 'Cause I will hook Doctor Corny up in two seconds flat. Now dare me. 'Cause you know Spencer will be up on him without hesitation!”

“That's a bit much!”

“No, you're a bit much. You're a prude. You're a snob. You're stuck up.”

“I am not!”

“Yes. You. Are, Dryzilla! You need to look in the mirror. Now, I don't know what's weighing you down, but you need to let that ish go. 'Cause it's ugly and it makes you ugly. It's definitely not cute. And ugly is another thing I don't do. And you wonder why I like to hang out with Spencer. Spencer knows how to have a good time. She may be dumb, but she is fun!”

London blinked.

“You can blink all you want. But you are clearly confused. Clutching your bag, all jeweled up. Who comes out to a hole-in-the-wall with diamonds, a Chanel clutch—and what happened to the stuff I packed for you? Right now you're supposed to have on a pair of neon-green hot shorts, white fishnets, a midriff and a tattoo reading Thugette Life wrapped around your waist. Oh, and red patent leather wedges!”

“You have nerve, Rich! Where are your fishnets?”

“Knox tore them off of me last night! 'Cause I am loose and free. I know how to have a good time and let myself go. But you, you wanna stand here and look stupid. Like people are trippin' off of you. These people here don't know you up in here. They're not even thinking about you. So you need to stop trippin' over yourself or go out there and summon you a limo.

“But I tell you what, if you leave up outta here you will never get another invite from me! I will be done with you and you'll be sitting on the sidelines and I'll be kicking it with Spencer! Boom! Now hit the floor with that! 'Cause I'm out!” I walked out and slammed the door behind me.

I had zero time for the foolishness. Plus I didn't do cold hot-wings, and judging by the music it was about time for me to bust a move!

I strutted out of the bathroom and the music was bumpin'. I danced my way over to Knox and Anderson, who were drinking cold beers and laughing. I leaned against Knox, he handed me his beer, and I took a sip.

“Where's London?” Anderson asked.

“I'm right here,” she said, standing behind him. Her smile was still fake, but it was better than that sourpuss frown she had on a few minutes ago. Now let's just hope she had that mind together.

I looked at Anderson and said, “Give her a sip. She needs a drink.” And then I turned around toward my baby and we commenced to getting our party on.

The MC introduced the first couple on stage. The girl couldn't sing a lick, but her dude—when he opened his mouth the sound of angels came out. And I found myself lost in his voice, and then... I felt transformed and transported back to the Kit-Kat Lounge—back on stage, singing my heart out, and lost in Justice's arms. His kisses felt sweet, and heated, and they were melting me. It was like... like I could really feel them. They were lining the right side of my neck, moving up toward my earlobe. I knew it was wrong, but I had to kiss him. So I turned around and that's when it hit me: it was all a memory.

“You all right, baby?” Knox asked me.

“Yeah, yeah.” I blinked. “I'm fine.”

“Are you sure? You still wanna do this?”

“Yeah.”

“So then what are you waiting on? They just called us up.”

I blinked. “Okay.”
Collect yourself.
“Then let's get it, baby!” I said in a forced excitement. Knox stared at me for a second and I wondered if he was back to reading my thoughts.

“A'ight,” he said, “let's get it!”

I sashayed on stage and Knox playfully pimp-walked over to the other microphone. The bass line to The LOX's classic started playing and before we began our routine I said to the crowd, “I'm getting ready to bless y'all with my version of Lil' Kim. It's not gon' be trashy. My nose is real. I'm naturally thick. I love my chocolate skin. And nothing is pumped up over here!”

I ran my hands over my hourglass. “I'm gon' upgrade the East Coast's queen bee and show her how the West do it. Boom. Boom!” I threw my hands like loose guns in the air. “Drop it!” I spat lyrics from “Money, Power & Repect.”

My baby and I were doing it. And he straight killed it, especially when he did a DMX bark and then rapped.

By the time we were done, we had everyone bumping, even London and Anderson.

I strutted offstage with confidence. I knew I would be taking the hot wings and the bucket of ribs home with me! And the five hundred dollars. Mmph, they could keep that.

I walked straight over to the yuppies gone wild and said, “I know you saw my work. And don't hate either.” Knox and I gave each other some dap.

“Yeah, I saw you,” Anderson said. “And you were a'ight.” He wiggled his left hand. “But you don't have any work for C-Smoove.”

“Boy, please.” I flicked a wrist. “You couldn't bring it if it was brought to you, or brought for you.”

“Is that a challenge?” he asked, amped.

“Take it however you want. 'Cause me and my baby got the wings in the bag! All up in ya grill. Pow! You doing a whole lotta talking, but I don't see you movin'.”

“You ain't said nothing but a word.”

“Umm-hmm, and what you gon' do, C-Smoove? The “Y.M.C.A.” or you gon' kick it up a notch and resurrect Slick Rick's career?”

“Nah, baby girl.” He flicked my chin and for a moment I thought maybe he was kind of cute with some swag. Good thing I was faithful and anti-grimy; otherwise I may've turned him out and threw some action his way. “London and I are going to surprise you,” he said.

“I'm not going up there.” London sucked her teeth.

“Girl, you better go and stand by your man. Don't let him lose by himself. And while y'all are up there, Knox and I will look for the nearest exit for when you get laughed offstage!”

Anderson pulled London up to the stage. And reluctantly she walked up there, giving the crowd a small wave, and I yelled, “That's my girl over there!”

I didn't know what they were going to sing, but I knew it would be country. Which was exactly why my mouth hit the floor when Tupac's “Hit 'Em Up” dropped and Anderson and London brought the house down.

 

“You two cheated,” I insisted, upon my return from the bathroom. I sat down and Anderson, who was just returning to his seat from the bar, said, “We didn't cheat.” He set a pitcher of beer down on the table.

“Don't try to bribe me and my baby with drinks. Tell 'em, babe,” I said, reaching for one of their wings.

Knox didn't respond, he simply sipped his beer and stared at me. Appearing to be lost in his thoughts.

Whatever. I reached for another one of their wings and said, “You two watched how we rocked it and you copied all of our moves.” I paused. “Umm, dang, make it hot, make it pop, these freakin' wings are delicious!” I licked my fingers.

London laughed—a genuine laugh. “Girl, they are da bomb!” She reached for one and fed it to Anderson. He looked at her, smiled, and she kissed the barbecue sauce off of his lips.

“Awwl.” I teased them. They looked so cute together. This was the London that I knew and loved. The one who liked to have fun. And as for the stuck-up one—well, she was always stuck up—but the stuck-up one with the extra-extra bourgeois-glam; thank Gawd that snotty heifer was abandoned in that cheesy, country bathroom.

Knox huffed—evidently he was pissed about something. I looked at him and asked, “Are you okay?”

“I'm cool. But I'll be even better when you answer your phone.” He pointed to my iPhone that sat on the edge of the table.

“Phone?” I said, surprised. “I didn't even hear it ringing.” I reached for the phone and Knox's eyes were glued to the screen that read
JB
.

I swallowed and I knew by the way Knox looked at me that he was suspicious.