knew you could have that in this industry?
At the time, I was happy with my rip-off agency. As Maya and I spent more time together, we became even better friends. She was a beautiful girl and such a moneymaker. She was also dating a guy who was a top dog in one of the local gangs, and they were the ones who introduced me to my next boyfriend.
Andre had been a powerful guy, but he was nothing compared to Maya's boyfriend, Tito. Tito was tall and lean like a basketball player, but, even if he didn't exactly look like one, he was a real gangster. He asserted his dominance over people every chance he got. He was always arguing with some guy or flirting with some girl just because. His business was drugs too, but if they worked the same area, Tito probably would have been the guy who provided Andre with the product he sold. Not only was he a bigger fish, he was one of the top guys in one of the largest drug rings in the area. He had a whole gang of dealers and runners working for him. Of course, I found all of this irresistible.
Tito's buddy Allen was a dope boy too, but he worked independently. He liked to run his own ship; he respected the gangs that controlled most of the city's trade, but he kept himself separate from them. He believed it was safer and cleaner that way, and I liked that about him. Plus, he was a fly-looking boy, which was fine by me. He may have existed under the radar when it came to business, but in his personal life he was hard to miss. He was nearly six feet tall, with a muscled, 220-pound frame, and he wore the full-on gear of a race-car driver during the day. In fact, he was obsessed with anything on wheels. He owned a whole fleet of cars—his most prized ones being a limited-edition RX-7 and a showroom model Toyota Supra with a twin turbo engine—many of which he had souped up just the way he liked them, as lowrides with purple backup lights and that kind of thing. He even had one of the very first voice-activated computers installed in his Supra. At night he practically always wore Versace from head to toe. He was much trendier than Andre, whose style I'd describe as "old school," but they were both hard to miss when they went out on the town.
Allen also liked to be in control of everything. Not just business, but everything. He would even tell me that I was not allowed to go to any of the black clubs in Baltimore, which was ridiculous since he was black himself. Actually, he was only a quarter black, mixed with a quarter white and half Hispanic, and it showed in his light skin, but he called himself "black." Still, he thought the black clubs were too "ghetto," and no girlfriend of his was going to be seen in any ghetto places. "You're too good for that," he'd say. For me it was white-people places or stay home.
But my friend Maya would go only to the black clubs because she hated white people and because all the white-people clubs in Baltimore totally sucked. "White people are the ones who are responsible for every dirty, wrong thing in this world," she'd say. "They're the ones who start wars, who oppress people. And it's always the white guys who call up looking to pay some poor girl to do something disgusting. Like golden showers. White men invented those. No self-respecting black man would ever get off on being peed on."
I loved that girl. She was a trip. The funny thing is, Maya also barely looked black, even though she was. Because her skin was a very light brown, she looked Arabic or like a really light-skinned Puerto Rican. Still, she had her rules and Allen had his and I was caught in the middle because I wanted to be around both of them.
Once I tried to sneak into one of Maya's favorite clubs so she and I could hang out. We'd just gotten there when this famous basketball player saw her across the room and came straight over to try to pick her up. She always had that effect on guys everywhere she went. I had no idea who he was, but he had a pick in his nappy hair and was so ballsy
At the time, I was happy with my rip-off agency. As Maya and I spent more time together, we became even better friends. She was a beautiful girl and such a moneymaker. She was also dating a guy who was a top dog in one of the local gangs, and they were the ones who introduced me to my next boyfriend.
Andre had been a powerful guy, but he was nothing compared to Maya's boyfriend, Tito. Tito was tall and lean like a basketball player, but, even if he didn't exactly look like one, he was a real gangster. He asserted his dominance over people every chance he got. He was always arguing with some guy or flirting with some girl just because. His business was drugs too, but if they worked the same area, Tito probably would have been the guy who provided Andre with the product he sold. Not only was he a bigger fish, he was one of the top guys in one of the largest drug rings in the area. He had a whole gang of dealers and runners working for him. Of course, I found all of this irresistible.
Tito's buddy Allen was a dope boy too, but he worked independently. He liked to run his own ship; he respected the gangs that controlled most of the city's trade, but he kept himself separate from them. He believed it was safer and cleaner that way, and I liked that about him. Plus, he was a fly-looking boy, which was fine by me. He may have existed under the radar when it came to business, but in his personal life he was hard to miss. He was nearly six feet tall, with a muscled, 220-pound frame, and he wore the full-on gear of a race-car driver during the day. In fact, he was obsessed with anything on wheels. He owned a whole fleet of cars—his most prized ones being a limited-edition RX-7 and a showroom model Toyota Supra with a twin turbo engine—many of which he had souped up just the way he liked them, as lowrides with purple backup lights and that kind of thing. He even had one of the very first voice-activated computers installed in his Supra. At night he practically always wore Versace from head to toe. He was much trendier than Andre, whose style I'd describe as "old school," but they were both hard to miss when they went out on the town.
Allen also liked to be in control of everything. Not just business, but everything. He would even tell me that I was not allowed to go to any of the black clubs in Baltimore, which was ridiculous since he was black himself. Actually, he was only a quarter black, mixed with a quarter white and half Hispanic, and it showed in his light skin, but he called himself "black." Still, he thought the black clubs were too "ghetto," and no girlfriend of his was going to be seen in any ghetto places. "You're too good for that," he'd say. For me it was white-people places or stay home.
But my friend Maya would go only to the black clubs because she hated white people and because all the white-people clubs in Baltimore totally sucked. "White people are the ones who are responsible for every dirty, wrong thing in this world," she'd say. "They're the ones who start wars, who oppress people. And it's always the white guys who call up looking to pay some poor girl to do something disgusting. Like golden showers. White men invented those. No self-respecting black man would ever get off on being peed on."
I loved that girl. She was a trip. The funny thing is, Maya also barely looked black, even though she was. Because her skin was a very light brown, she looked Arabic or like a really light-skinned Puerto Rican. Still, she had her rules and Allen had his and I was caught in the middle because I wanted to be around both of them.
Once I tried to sneak into one of Maya's favorite clubs so she and I could hang out. We'd just gotten there when this famous basketball player saw her across the room and came straight over to try to pick her up. She always had that effect on guys everywhere she went. I had no idea who he was, but he had a pick in his nappy hair and was so ballsy
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