Fool, Stop Trippin' Read online

  “Yeah, whateva. Anyway, it was clear from the first day she didn’t like me and I didn’t like her. My boss started giving her all the assignments I used to do and before I knew it, she was transferred into my department and I was out.”

  “Out? What does that mean?”

  “Originally they hired her as a floater. She went from desk to desk. I worked in word processing. She got my job and I got hers.”

  “Did they cut your salary?”

  “No.”

  “So at least you had a job. Did it ever occur to you that she might have been better at it than you were?”

  “Whose side are you on?”

  “I ain’t on anybody’s side. I don’t know this chick from Adam.”

  “Well, I must have been doing something right, or they wouldn’t have kept me so long.”

  “True dat.”

  I drain my cup with a few fast swallows, causing my mouth to tingle.

  “You got any more of this tea?”

  “Oh, you like it, huh?”

  “It’s alright. I’m just thirsty.” She leaves the room and I look in the bottom of the cup to make sure there isn’t anything floating in there that doesn’t belong. The bottom of the cup is clear, so I follow her into the kitchen to watch her make it. Lasonji is just putting the tea back as I enter the room.

  The tea did not come in a box. She had it wrapped in plastic wrapper with no name on it. All of a sudden, I don’t want any more tea.

  “Uh, I changed my mind. I think I will have a glass of water.”

  “Suit yourself.” Lasonji pours water into her cup once again, ignoring me. She wraps plastic wrap around the other cup—for later, I guess—and sits down at the table. I get a glass from the dishwasher and fill it with ice and water from the refrigerator, then I sit across from her.

  “At first, I was mad about the transfer and I admit it showed in my performance and on my face. It wasn’t until my former supervisor sat me down for a long talk that I had an attitude adjustment.”

  “What did she say to you?”

  “Basically that I had two choices: quit or get over it.”

  “Damn, straight to the point. I like that.”

  “Yeah, she was. It was something I needed to hear. So I let it go and I started to enjoy my job. I realized I was burnt out in my old job and moving around was better for me.”

  “How so?”

  “I don’t deal with women all that well, but I had to while working in those close quarters. Floating around was like being my own boss. When I finished my work, they didn’t care if I read a book or did crossword puzzles as long as I was at my desk and answered the phones.”

  “Sounds like the bitch did you a favor. Does this bitch have a name?”

  She is really pissing me off.

  “Her name is Leah.” Just saying her name grates on my nerves. Refilling my water glass, I quickly drain it and fill it again. I wait for another smart comment and when it doesn’t come, I continue.

  “When I accepted my position, I was happy. Leah stayed out of my way and I stayed out of hers.”

  “So what happened?”

  I shift in my seat. I don’t want to tell the rest of the story, but I have come too far to stop. “I did my job and got in a lot of extra reading on the side. I was loving it.”

  “Stop being evasive and answer the question. You know what I’m talking about.”

  “With Leah?”

  “Yes, with Leah. Who else were we talking about?” What’s up with all this sarcasm?

  “She was in the break room talking all this noise about Kentee and it pissed me off.”

  “What was she saying? Did she say they were still talking or something?”

  “No, she’s old news to him, he loves me.”

  “Oh yeah, that’s right. I forgot.”

  “Why do you do that?”

  “Do what?”

  “Say shit like that. You sound like you are judging me.”

  “Fool, you betta stop trippin’. I’m just trying to wrap my mind around what you are telling me.”

  “She brought in this cake to celebrate her divorce and had the nerve to offer me a piece.”

  “Huh?”

  “Huh what?”

  “That made you mad? I would’ve thought that would have made you happy because that would mean you and Kentee could get married, right?”

  “It was the way she said it that pissed me off. I guess it’s something you had to hear for yourself to really understand. I mean, why in the hell would I take a piece of cake from her when I don’t even like her ass?”

  “Well, I don’t see it as a reason to get into a fight with somebody. You could have just said, ‘no thanks’ and walked away.”

  “I guess I didn’t explain that well. Let me back up. When Kentee and I got married, he told me Leah divorced him while he was in jail. I believed him, but she lied.”

  “How do you know she lied? Did she tell you that?”

  “Hell no, she didn’t tell me that, Kentee did.” Lasonji gets up and begins pulling food out of the refrigerator.

  “See, that’s your problem. Want some breakfast?”

  “No, I don’t want any breakfast. I wanna know why you think I’m the one with the problem. I thought you wanted to hear what happened.”

  “I heard. The problem is I don’t think you heard yourself.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean? How come you just can’t speak in plain English so I can understand what you’re trying to say?”

  She bangs down the frying pan she is holding and whirls around to face me. Rushing forward, she gets all up in my face, causing me to recoil away from her.

  “Stop me if I am wrong. You develop this hate relationship with a woman you don’t even know based on what some negro done told you. You gave him every benefit of the doubt and never once did you consider there might be two sides to this story. But because the nigga was laying the pipe you believed him.”

  This bitch has gone too far now. I don’t have to stand here and take this shit; I’m going to my room. Fuck her and the white horse that she rode up in here on. I get up to leave.

  “Oh, so you done talking now that I called you out?”

  “You are not my mother and I don’t appreciate your getting all up in my face.”

  “I ain’t trying to be your mother. I’m trying to talk some sense into you.”

  “Why you jumping all over my man? You don’t even know him and you putting him down.”

  “Putting him down? When? What did I say to put him down?”

  “Well…you called him a negro.”

  “Oh, my bad. With a name like Kentee, I assumed he was black.” Turning again, she puts some bacon in the pan to fry. Damn, she really didn’t put Kentee down. It was just me getting all defensive again. I am really trippin’. I was ready to beat her down simply because I thought she wouldn’t approve of him. Maybe if things were better between Kentee and me, I wouldn’t have reacted the same way, but he has me on an emotional roller coaster and I can’t get off. But she still didn’t have to get all up in my face and shit. That wasn’t right and if I would have hit her ass we would have been up in here tearing shit up.

  “Tarcia, this is what I heard you say, so please stop me if I am wrong ’cause I’d sure hate to jump to the wrong conclusion, especially since you lost your job behind this shit.” There is the sarcastic voice again, I hate that shit.

  “You got involved with a man you later found out was married. He told you he was divorced and you were pregnant, so you got married. You later found out he was never divorced and you blamed Leah for deceiving you. Am I getting it right so far?”

  “Uh…” I ain’t about to admit that I wasn’t pregnant to begin with ’cause her ass would really start trippin’ on me.

  “I thought so. Then Leah comes to work at your job and you get a case of the ass with her ’cause she’s married to him and you’re not. Sounds like Kentee’s the root of this evil to me.”


  “How can you say that? You don’t even know Kentee. Hell you siding with that bitch instead of your own flesh and blood. What’s up with that?”

  Lasonji turns off the flames and calmly puts the food back. She places the used dishes in the dishwasher and when she is done she turns to me. Her breathing is heavy and her eyes hold a warning that I am treading on dangerous grounds.

  “I’m going out. I don’t like the vibes I am feeling from you right now and I don’t trust myself around you. I want you to really think about what I said, but more importantly, I want you to think about what I didn’t say. When you are ready to discuss it, let me know. Until then, this subject is closed. I will not ruin our relationship over some bullshit.”

  “You…you can’t talk to me like that. Hell, you are living in my house. You owe me!”

  “Owe you? Bitch, please. I’m thirty years old and you’re my family. I also love you, but that does not make me a fool. I know bullshit when I hear it and I will not compromise my beliefs because you’re stuck on stupid.”

  “Who the hell are you calling stupid.” I jump up ready to fight, cousin or not. “No one calls me stupid. That’s what started the fight between me and Leah.”

  “Oh, so now you wanna hit me? Why, ’cause I didn’t co-sign your story? Things happen for a reason. I’m here because a force greater than me pulled me. I’m not a charity case because I can afford a hotel, but I’m not fighting my Karma.”

  “Karma! Karma? What the hell does this have to do with Karma? You survived a fucking hurricane and lost everything, that’s why you are here.”

  “I didn’t lose everything. I’m alive and that means more to me than some material possessions. Plus, come Monday morning, I’m gonna have me a job. Can you say the same?” She showed me the back of her ass as she sashayed out the room, slamming the door to her bedroom again. This is not going at all like I planned. We should be having a big old slumber party and all we are doing is fighting. I don’t really believe that she can cast a spell on me that would make me walk in front of a Mack truck or anything, but there is no sense tempting my fate when my life is already in the toilet. The slamming of the front door startles me. I didn’t hear Lasonji leaving her room so I’m curious as to where she’s going but it immediately reopens. She struts back into the room and I’m ready to kiss and make up.

  “One quick question and I’m out. Does he do you like you do you?”

  I don’t immediately catch where she is coming from, but when I do, I am mortified. She must have heard me going at it last night. I don’t even bother to answer. In fact, I can’t because I’m so embarrassed.

  “I thought so.” She spins around and goes back out the door.

  “Well, I’ll be damned.”

  Tarcia

  Lasonji was right about one thing; she will have a job come Monday morning and I, on the other hand, still have to find one. She got a job at MARTA as a bus driver, over the phone, without even having to go through the interview process. Lasonji has been driving buses since graduating from high school and Georgia always has a need for them. Our city is growing by leaps and bounds and traffic is a nightmare. People are opting to take public transportation to avoid gridlock and the high price of gas.

  Reality has cold-cocked me. It isn’t Lasonji who needs me, it’s the other way around. Unless Kentee steps up to the plate to help me out, I’m going to start feeling the pinch of unemployment sooner than later. The bottom line is I need a job with a quickness because I hate depending on folks.

  Lasonji and I have always been close, but we were raised differently. She is pretty, but she refuses to flaunt her good looks to get what she wants out of life. Momma taught me to use what I have to get what I want. Lasonji didn’t wear makeup or do the things that most women do to attract a man. She is more comfortable wearing her hair in a ponytail than sporting a head full of curls. She reminds me of an actress who played in the movie Set It Off, Kimberly something or other. Her most striking feature is her eyes. They make me uncomfortable sometimes because I feel like she is staring straight into my soul while giving me that “are you a fool” look that she has perfected over the years.

  Lasonji dumped her husband of five years and is starting all over on the dating scene. I personally think she is bitter, but she claims a man doesn’t define her. I honestly don’t know what that means.

  “I know that’s why she sweating me and Kentee. She ain’t got a man, so she wanna stir up some shit with me and mines.” I march back into my room, miffed and slightly puzzled at the same time.

  I ain’t heard from Kentee this weekend. Matter of fact, I haven’t heard from him since last week. What’s up with that? I dial his number, expecting to leave a voice message, but he surprises me when he answers.

  “Speak.”

  “Speak? That ain’t no way to be answering your phone.” His voice is sounding so sexy I want to cum right through the phone.

  “Aw girl, you know how I do. Why you trying to trip on a brotha?”

  “I ain’t trippin’, boo. I just miss you. You ain’t come by and gave your baby some love in a minute. What’s up with that?”

  “Uh, you know I’ve been working a lot of overtime and shit, trying to handle my business.”

  “And what does that have to do with it? You always worked overtime before, but still had time to spend with me.”

  “Tarcia, I’m trying to get back on my feet. Just bear with me for a minute. We will be together soon.” He ain’t said nothing about his divorce being final, I wonder why?

  “I called you last night because I had a bad dream. How come you didn’t answer your phone?” I’m pouting and his nonchalant attitude is not helping.

  “Er, I was probably ’sleep. What time was it?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Look here, I got my kids today, but I might be able to swing through tonight after I drop them off.” This was not the type of response I was looking for, but it would have to do.

  “Oh, by the way, my cousin is staying with me for a while until she can find herself an apartment.”

  “Your cousin? What’s up with that?”

  “She’s from New Orleans.”

  “Oh, is she one of the refugees?”

  “No, she ain’t no refugee, she’s an evacuee.”

  “Refugee or evacuee, what difference does it make? She here, ain’t she?”

  “A refugee is coming from another country. My cousin lives in this country, so that’s the difference.”

  “Oh, excuse me, now you want to be politically correct and shit.” Kentee chuckles as if he has told a good joke.

  “Whateva. I only told you because I didn’t want you keeping me waiting up all night iffin you ain’t coming by.”

  “Yo, I told you I’d see you later, now ’bye.” I hate when he hangs up on me even if it’s his signature good-bye. I could’ve had something else to say and he wouldn’t know. It’s just rude and one of these days, I’m gonna tell him.

  In the meantime, I’ve got some work to do. Glancing at the clock, I notice that it’s already after one o’clock and I haven’t made my bed. I don’t really need a shower since I had taken one earlier this morning after my unexpected accident. Kentee didn’t even ask me what my dream was about. Now that’s unusual because he used to use my dreams to play his numbers. He must be really busy trying to make that money. One time he used one of my dreams and he hit the number for over five thousand dollars. If he gets here before the drawing, I’ll mention it to him and maybe there will still be enough time to play. I could use all the cash I can get my hands on.

  I make the bed and decide to cook some dinner for us. I’m not the best cook in the world, but I do know my way around the kitchen a little bit. I open the refrigerator, but nothing appealing pops out at me. Then it hits me. As a peace offering to Lasonji, I will make red beans and rice and some cornbread. It’ll be inexpensive to make and remind her of home. If Lasonji comes back in time, she’ll get to meet Kentee and see how goo
d he is for me. I’m confident that once she meets him, she’ll see how deeply in love we are and lay up off him. Realizing that I don’t have any of the ingredients I need, I rush into the bathroom to change my clothes and brush my hair. I don’t have time to fool with makeup right now and pray I won’t see anyone I know at the store. I grab my keys from the dresser and my purse, checking first to make sure I have my checkbook, since I rarely carry it, and then I head to the store.

  While driving, I cannot get my cousin out of my mind. I keep hearing her say I was stupid, but I’m not getting mad this time. I am trying to understand how she came to her conclusions without even knowing the principal players. Fighting with Lasonji was the last thing I wanted to do, not only because she might put a mojo on me or make my hair fall out overnight, but because she’s the only family member I have left who gives a damn whether I live or die. When Momma and I ran away, we cut ties with everyone, including her own mother. They probably would have respected us more if we had announced our intentions to leave, but Momma was afraid that they would bury our drawers in the backyard, making it impossible for us to leave the front porch. So we had to wait until everyone in the house was asleep before we could leave.

  Momma didn’t stop looking over her shoulder until she saw the sign from the window of the bus that said, WELCOME TO

  GEORGIA. My aunts and uncles still blame Momma for my grandmother’s death because they said she died right after we left. I didn’t find this out until I called Lasonji to tell her that Momma had gotten run over by a bus. So keeping Lasonji in my corner is very important to me.

  Lasonji has me thinking about Kentee and the half-assed treatment I’d been receiving. I hadn’t really noticed that he hadn’t been around, or called for that matter, until last night. I was so busy feeling sorry for myself about my job that his absence didn’t even faze me. Automatically, I want to blame Kentee’s lack of attention on Leah and his damn kids, but if I am honest, that only explained this past weekend. It doesn’t explain the other days that he hadn’t come through to check on me.

  After nearly sideswiping a parked car, I decide to concentrate on driving and leave all that deep thinking for another time when I can fully concentrate. I fly through the grocery store like a woman wearing gasoline drawers, tossing everything into the cart as quickly as I can, rushing to the checkout line while barely avoiding another cart trying to get into the express line before me. I don’t realize my wallet is missing until after the cashier finishes ringing me up. Now I know damn well I saw my wallet when I was checking to make sure I had my checkbook. Where the hell could it be?