One Hustle

by Cortney Gee

  "What do you mean she didn't give you no head?"

  "She didn't go down on me."

  "Did you go down on her?"

  "Yes and she came so hard, she squirted," he said.

  "So you're telling me you went down on her until she busted a liquid nut and you didn't even ask for the favor to be returned?"

  "I did, but Ebony said she wasn't comfortable doing that so soon. I didn't want to press the issue."

  "Man, you let a waitress in a rib joint treat you like you were a common worker and she was the one with television appearances?"

  "It wasn't like that; she says she does do it, she just has to be comfortable."

  "And squirting in-your-face, trembling in orgasm ain't comfortable? That sounds pretty fucking comfortable to me."

  "Man, you don't understand."

  "That might be the first thing you said we can agree on. I don't understand," I said to him. In my way of thinking it didn't count if she didn't suck his dick. I mean any woman could spread her legs to a man, but to put a dick in her mouth was personal.

  "So you're telling me you ain't never ate a chick out and she didn't return the favor?"

  "What I'm telling you is, Marc, if I dine, she dines."

  Marc figured out that it was pointless trying to convince me to see things his way. Instead of continuing to argue, he chose to change the subject to something he knew I wouldn't object to, food.

  "So you hungry or what?" he asked.

  "Hell yeah, I'm starving. What do you have in mind?"

  "Let's catch a cab to Nations and get some burgers."

  We caught a cab, grabbed the food and grubbed. We didn't have to meet up with Mouton until 9 PM. I had some writing Lisa asked me to do on my laptop. Mark told me he was going to watch SportsCenter and crash.

  I went into my room, checked emails and chatted with some local online friends who I’d met on AOL. My boy, KappaCrimson and the flirtatious ITSGOOOOD requested some tickets for the show at Mexicali Rose and I agreed to grant their requests before shutting down the online conversations. I didn't see any harm in inviting ITSGOOOOD, whose real name was Thelma.

  She was a cool cutie and let her tell it she could burn in the kitchen. Even though we had flirted with each other via the Internet for months, we had never met face-to-face. So in my mind there wasn't going to be any expectations between us. It was just going to be good to finally meet. After signing off-line, I attended to the task of writing characters’ descriptions and a synopsis of my pilot Barely Standing.

  Lisa had two producers interested and they were waiting to see more than just a pilot script. Since the show was my creation it wasn't going to be difficult to hammer it out.

  It was times like these when I thanked God for English teachers like Sandy Talley and Valerie Weaver who hadn’t allowed me to be a dumb jock and cultivated my grasp of the language and writing skills. I finished the synopsis of most of the character descriptions before my eyelids became too heavy to complete anymore. I saved the WORD document, shut down my Apple computer and called the front desk for an 8 PM wake-up call before drifting into a deep slumber.

  It felt as if no time had passed when the phone rang.

  "It's 8 PM, Mr. Bernard and this is your wake-up call," said the front desk attendant, waking me from some much-needed rest.

  I rose out of the bed and went to the bathroom for shit, shower, and shave time -- in that order. After handling my human and hygienic endeavors, I exited the bathroom with an oversized terrycloth towel wrapped around me. I pulled out my hounds-tooth wool blazer and black French cuffed long sleeve shirt and black wide leg trousers. I grabbed a pair of black silk socks and my black alligator belt that matched my David Eden alligator loafers. I considered donning a black fedora that I had purchased at The Hat Guys on Broadway, but decided to throw some Murray's grease into my hair so I could make folks sick with my waves.

  I checked over the entire outfit and concluded I was dressed properly to impress, then headed downstairs to see what crazy casual look Marc would wear and to be picked up by Mouton. When I exited the elevator, I was surprised to see Marc dressed up. Well not exactly dressed up, but enough to make me have to say something.

  "So who died to get you to be funeral formal?" I didn't give him a chance to answer. "So I guess you figured out that wearing a Raiders jersey isn't get-your-dick-sucked attire so you might as well try shirt and slacks, huh?" I commented, knowing I would spark a debate.

  "Damn, Cameron, you just can't let shit go, can you?"

  "Nope, sure can't, not even if I tried!"

  "Don't hate because I'm looking too suave tonight."

  "What? Did Ross Dress for Less have a sale on leisure suits and shoes?" I questioned.

  Marc knew he couldn't down my style, so he changed the subject.

  "So yo, is Tasha going to be there tonight?"

  "No, I'm solo, she had to fill in for someone at the bar. I'm glad, it saved me from pissing her off by telling her she couldn't come."

  "Damn, I knew I shouldn't have asked Ebony to attend tonight."

  "You should've told her she couldn't attend last night right after she didn't suck your dick," I said before breaking out into the Funkadelic classic “No Head No Backstage Pass.”

  "How did I know you were going to find a way to bring that shit back up?"

  "Because I'm a predictable asshole probably."

  Mouton and TMB pulled up to the front of the hotel in the Suburban.

  "Wassup fellas?" Mouton asked, as we entered the vehicle.

  "Marc ate that waitress’s pussy last night and she didn't go down on him, that's what's up," I told the front passengers before Marc hit me with a light jab to the side.

  "Damn, she played you like that?" Mouton asked.

  "Man, fuck what Cameron is talking about. The only reason he got laid last night is because he and Tasha been kicking for years. Ebony just wasn't comfortable doing that on the first date. I'm sure she'll be more secure tonight," Marc replied.

  TMB looked into the backseat like he knew something we didn't. "You told her to come tonight?" he questioned.

  "Yeah, we had a good time minus the extracurricular activity that Cameron keeps joking about."

  "First of all, if you eat a broad's pussy until she pops on your face, her sucking your dick is not extracurricular; it's a mandatory requirement," I interjected.

  "Wait a minute, Ebony is a squirter? Nigga, I thought Larry LaLa was lying on his dick when he told me that," Mouton said like he owed this Larry an apology.

  "Yeah, she told me that they dated awhile back," Marc explained.

  "Dated him awhile back? Nigga, Larry was last week’s headliner. He met her just like you did when we took him to eat. The way he tells it, she sucks dick, licks toes, elbows and assholes," TMB said to Marc, making everyone else laugh, but him.

  When we pulled into the packed parking lot of Mexicali Rose, the subject changed. I said, "Mou, you and TMB are pimping the promotion department folks. I dig how many people you have turning out."

  Right before we stepped inside the club, Mouton asked, "Marc, you have any more guests besides Ebony? What about you, Cameron?" He wanted to make sure so there wouldn't be any hang up at the door.

  Marc said that he was cool and I told him about Thelma and Eric as we entered the large club space filled with sexy Latinas and black women. There probably were a bunch of guys too, but I wasn't checking for them so there wasn’t any need for me to take inventory.

  Mouton led us to the dressing room that was downstairs. Luenell was already in the green room sipping on some cognac. She was in conversation with a diminutive man who wore a long perm and was sporting a fedora perched on his head like it was a crown.

  "Cameron and Marc, this is 'Katt in The Hat'; he's doing a guest set tonight if that's cool," Luenell said to us as she introduced her friend.

  We shook hands and I told him it was all right by me especially when he told me he was a fellow Ohioan. While we were talking, M
outon informed us that we had another special guest in the house. I asked who that might be.

  "I was told not to say shit so I ain't saying shit."

  I wasn't about to trip; it was obviously someone I knew who had serious juice to shut down Mouton.

  The crowd was getting restless. Seating had begun an hour before show time and the mixture of liquor and anticipation had them chanting, "We want the show!"

  Mouton dimmed the lights and had the DJ play “I'm Every Woman,” Luenell's intro song.

  The crowd went wild as she took the stage as the host and MC. If I didn't know better, I would've sworn that Luenell had bused in her entire family and fan club the way they responded to her antics and comedy. After she had the room nice and hot, Luenell brought Katt in The Hat to the stage. He performed fifteen minutes of material that had audience rolling. Not only were they laughing at his cultural observations, but also his high-pitched voice and slow cadence.

  Luenell returned to the stage and announced that the crowd was in store for a special treat.

  "Ladies and Gentleman, your money spent tonight just doubled in value. Coming to the stage is the former host of Showtime at the Apollo. Born and bred right here in town, he has his own hit show on ABC. Please welcome home, Mr. Mark Curry!" she said as the crowd got louder with each credit until finally they erupted in applause.

  This wasn't just another celebrity comic. Mark was one of them, their homeboy had done well. What was really cool was that the writers of his show had situated the sitcom in Oakland. So each week the city was showcased as a character as well.

  I marveled at Curry's incredible standup abilities and improv skills as he performed at a high level with off-the-cuff wit. I noticed Marc was paying Curry's set close attention as well because he was up next and I could only imagine how nervous he must've felt having to follow the homegrown superstar.

  I was glad Marc was going after Curry; he was the one being offered to the crowd as the sacrificial lamb. Curry closed out his set and left the stage to a standing ovation. Luenell didn't waste any time as she brought Marc Howard to a hot stage that Curry had just set ablaze. Again Marc was being baptized through comedy fire as he had the previous night at Sweet Jimmy's. He handled the pressure with a cool that was admirable.

  Ebony was by the bar watching him intensely, laughing along with the rest of the crowd that was really enjoying his performance. I was scanned the room to see if I could spot my friends, Thelma and Eric. As I looked the place over, I got a glimpse at a vision that caught my attention. There was a very light skinned lady with flaming red curly hair and freckles standing across the bar from me, sipping a drink through a straw that was being sexually assaulted by her juicy pink lips. I tapped Mouton who was standing nearby and asked him, "Who is that thick redbone over there?"

  I made sure to point in her direction blatantly so that she would notice I was flirting.

  "Oh that's Jessica, she's a bad broad, right?"

  I agreed with his observation, then asked the question, "What's her story?"

  "We call her Jessi the Body, for obvious reasons, or Jessica Rabbit. She comes every week to support the show. From what I know, she lives in a condo on Lake Marin and stacks racks and racks of dough."

  My eyes were still on her when I said, "I appreciate the intel."

  "Are you going to step to her?"

  "No, I'm going to do what you have paid me to do and if she's still here when I'm finished, I'll holla at her." I got the bartender's attention and instructed him to get her whatever she was drinking on me.

  While I was admiring Jessica, Curry came over to where I was standing.

  "What's up, nigga, you know better than to come to my town and not holla at me."

  "My bad, dude, I was preoccupied last night and was recouping all day."

  "You still fucking with Tasha when you come up here or have you found something new to play with?"

  "Yeah, but I might be looking to trade her in for a newer model," I said, raising my glass, acknowledging Jessica who was thanking me for her drink.

  "Oh, I see you have aspirations of moving up from triple A ball to the majors if you get that one."

  We chatted it up for bit and shot the shit until too many folks were vying for his attention. There were too many for him to ignore.

  It was cool; Marc Howard was wrapping up his set and I had to get my game face on anyway.

  Luenell went back on stage and did a few minutes before bringing me up. This was a different clientele compared to the one at Sweet Jimmy's, so I changed up my material and talked about relationships and when love goes wrong.

  The men were cracking up at my baby-mama-drama material while the women were digging my-men-ain't-shit jokes. I kept the crowd at odds as I went through material that had each sex laughing at the other's shortcomings.

  When I exited the stage I didn't get a standing ovation, but really, that wasn't my intention. I was flexing my change up game instead of bombarding them with high heat.

  Luenell closed out the show and we all met at the bar to celebrate another great night of comedy as the club staff moved tables and chairs so that patrons could dance. I looked all over for Jessica so I could put a bid in, but there was no sign of her.

  I was jive sulking about my missed opportunity when Eric and Thelma walked up and thanked me for the tickets. Much to my surprise, they both looked like their online profile pictures. They hung out with the comedy crew and had a couple of drinks with us. Eric was a computer programmer who lived in Berkeley and Thelma was a San Francisco native who worked in the banking industry. They fit right in with our clique. TMB got my attention and pulled me to the side.

  "Cameron, homie, you are the geese that lays golden eggs. We have far exceeded last night's take; I'm thinking we should do a little tour of the West Coast. Are you interested?" he asked as he pulled off a thousand dollars from his bankroll.

  "Yeah I'm down, but I'm only owed five hundred, pimp," I replied.

  "You and I are going to be partners. My friends and family fly free, ya dig?"

  I tried arguing with him that we had a deal and it was cool. But he wasn't hearing it. I went back to the bar so that everyone else could get broke off.

  As we were all standing there, the bartender came up to me. "The redhead told me to give you this," he said, as he handed me a folded note.

  I opened it and it read the message: Thanks for the drink. You are a very funny and handsome man. Give me a call if you're free for lunch tomorrow Jessica 510-311-4579.

  If I hadn’t been in public and in the company of the very sexy Thelma, I would have been jumping for joy, celebrating like I had scored a touchdown. Instead, I fist pumped the air and returned to the gathering of my comrades.

  After Marc got paid, he was ready to dip with Ebony back to the hotel.

  "Don't end up with the glaze face again doing the 68 where she owes you one," I chided as he left.

  He didn't even dignify my jab. He just shook his head as he exited.

  I hung out with Thelma and Eric until Mouton and TMB were ready to take me back to the hotel. I knew better than to try my hand with Thelma since she was going through a bitter divorce with her ex because of his infidelity and the best I could offer her was the same shit. I didn't feel the need to wrangle a stray. Tasha would more than likely be calling to creep by. Even if I was to spend the night alone, I was cool. I had already won the grand prize when I scored Jessica the Body's digits.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  As predicted, Tasha came by for another celebration. What we agreed to celebrate I didn't know, but I remembered the festivities.

  She had tried her best not to disturb my sleep while she readied herself, but all of her efforts were in vain because I was wide awake when she came out of the bathroom.

  "Baby, I'm sorry, I have a dentist appointment and some errands to run," she said, sitting on the bed, putting on her boots and zipping them up.

  "So you don't have time for another celebration I
take it?" I pulled back the covers revealing my rock hard dick as an offering.

  "Cameron, you don't play fair. I really have to go, boo."

  I wasn't really trying to do the do. I was just playing the role. Because all I could think about was Jessica. I was itching to call her.

  I played it cool so Tasha didn't sense me rushing her off. I was glad she had things to do. It would free me up for my lunch rendezvous.

  She kissed me goodbye and was off.

  After releasing my morning constitution and showering, I called the red-headed, freckled face vixen that captured my interest at The Mexicali Rose.

  "Hello may I speak with Jessica?" I asked in my smooth baritone voice.

  "This is she and who's calling?" she asked because she didn't recognize my number.

  "This is Cameron Bernard. I bought you a drink last night and I'm calling per your lovely note."

  "Of course it's you, the humorist. Thanks for calling. I wasn't sure if you would or not. You seemed to be preoccupied with a throng of fans."

  "Actually, I hadn't seen Mark Curry for a while and we were chopping it up. Those fans were his."

  "If you say so, I'm not about to allow our first conversation to be an argument, but I beg to differ with you. During your performance the ladies at the bar were all commenting about the things they would do to you if given the chance."

  I laughed. "That's funny because I was totally oblivious to it. I was too busy being enchanted by you."

  "Enchanted? That's an interesting way to put it. You make it seem as if I casted a spell on you or something."

  "I'm not saying it for conversation sake. I'm sure you're complimented on your beauty all the time."

  "I've been told that once or twice."

  "Humbled beauty is a very sexy trait to possess, Jessica, if you don't mind me saying so."

  "No, I don't mind. So are we going to do lunch like I suggested or are we going to stay on the phone blowing each other's egos up?" she asked.

  "I'm down to do lunch; that way we can stroke each other's egos face to face."

  "You, Mr. Bernard, are quite the charmer. So what would you like to eat?" she asked.