Free Hood Rich: The rise and fall of one of Brooklyn's Finest by Corie Allen Page B

we need that gwap. I got a
house and bills and shit… please.”
Kevin folded his hands on the table.
“Okay, I’ll let you do lap dances and dates.”
A female entered the room. I could tell she wasn’t the
average stripper. She was fully dressed, dark chocolate complected, tall, and slim. She had two of the
most perfectly rounded d-cups. They stood out like
the twin towers. Her hair was long and silky, and her
skin was smooth and shiny. The way she waltzed in
was as if she owned the place.
She wore a pink Apple Bottom fitted dress that
hugged her body like it was wet.
She walked over to Kevin and kissed him on his bald
head. She looked us up and down and returned her
attention to Kevin as he spoke.
“Coffee, I want you to meet my two new young
bitches. Take these bitches to the dressing room and
give ‘em the house rules. No stage time, just lap dances and dates in the VIP.”
We left the room with Coffee and she gave us a tour
of the club. After touring the public part of the club,
we toured the third floor where we quickly learned
the meaning of the word “date”.
There was a bouncer in the hallway. He was guarding
the entrance to eight private VIP rooms. Coffee
opened up one of the rooms that was not occupied.
We entered the room and she closed the door behind
us. She sat on a black butter leather sofa.
“I’m letting you bitches know right now. This shit is
about business. Kevin is your daddy and I’m his bottom bitch. You talk and answer to me and I talk and
answer to him. Don’t get the game fucked up. Go behind my back, and I’ll go upside your head… period.
First rule: Daddy gets a hundred percent of everything. I don’t give a fuck if you find a dollar on the
floor, it belongs to daddy. Don’t get fucked up over a
dollar. You work six days a week and get paid a thousand at the end of the week. Charge sixty for head, a
hundred to fuck, and two hundred for fetishes. Lap
dances are twenty for two songs.
I was spinning in disbelief.
“Wait a minute Coffee, I just wanted to dance, that’s
it.”
I could tell by Jocelyn’s facial expression that she felt
the same. Coffee’s facial expression said she really
didn’t give a fuck.
“Look bitch, this shit aint no daycare center, lap dances don’t pay the bills, and closed legs don’t get fed. I
aint got time for bullshit. You either wit it or you not.
Y'all got the game fucked up..”
“It’s just that I got a boyfriend, but he locked up. I
don’t wanna cheat on him.”
Coffee laughed.
“Look bitch, I’m not your social worker, you want to
get money or not?”
Jocelyn shrugged her shoulders in indifference. She
looked at me and we both replied:
“Yes!”
Working at Club Wet was crazy. Some days I was so
tired I could almost fall asleep in the middle of a lap
dance.
Jocelyn was keeping up. Between the both of us, we
pulled two thousand a week. Everything was good.
As long as Kevin got paid, we got paid. Coffee even
allowed us to do private parties too. The niggas loved
us and the white boys loved us even more. At private
parties we made Kevin so much money he decided to
let us headline parties. We drew in more niggas and
kept them coming back to the VIP.
Jocelyn was a horse. This was just a job for me…
something temporary. Jocelyn was actually enjoying
fucking five to six niggas a day. She was addicted to
sex and this lifestyle.
We saved up ten thousand and I was ready to quit or
do something else. This was not the life for me. I
wanted out. I was in the bathroom at home looking in
the mirror. I missed Rich so much. Jocelyn was okay.
She was good company and good people, but she
couldn’t fill in the void that Rich left.
I was fixing my hair as Jocelyn walked into the bathroom. I looked at her through the mirror.
“Im tired Jocelyn. I’m ready to quit.”
“Akira you buggin’, we got a big party tonight. It’s
gone be crazy. It’s gone be mad ballers in there. I need
some dick too!”
“Girl you crazy. I’m serious.