After the hurt from the dealer mentioned in part one, I still didn’t learn a clear lesson. I still searched for friends everywhere. I kept reaching out to females for friendship but as quick as it started-it ended. Some were lost because I wasn’t interested in anything that they had to talk about. I wasn’t into men, especially after dealing with the last one. I wasn’t interested in shopping, hair, nails, makeup, or anything they had in mind. I tried being friends with older women but they tried to turn me out. Let me give you a more detailed description of what being “Turned Out” means.
I met this lady at McDonald’s-we both were employed there. During the time that I worked at McDonald’s, I was having some serious issues with my marriage. My ex husband and I were very violent towards each other. So due to my situation at home, I was making plans to leave my home to get away from that toxic relationship.
Over time, I started chilling with the female that I mentioned previously. I would go over her house and try to talk to her about my problems, but she was always trying to find some gangster or drug dealer to hook me up with. She would do my hair in ways that I wouldn’t normally style it. She didn’t like any of my clothes-so she changed that too.
This chick had me riding around the city with her, introducing me to all kinds of hoodrats. I found no interest in any of these people. All of them just wanted to fuck or trick me out. They wanted me to sell for them or dress me up to be their trophy for a couple hours or a couple days. Who knew?!
Now, it came to a point where I literally had to get away from my ex. The violence level increased at home. I knew if I continued to live with him, I would go to jail. One day, I packed up all of my belongings and moved into an extended stay hotel while my ex was at work.
This was a very bad decision on my part because I ended up losing my McDonald’s gig. I had to quickly find a way to pay for my hotel room. So, I started doing exotic dancing (yes, I was a stripper). I couldn’t climb the pole though! However, that job ended as well because the club owner tried to work me like a slave. I would arrive at work around noon and they would not allow me to leave until 6am. When I did finally get up the following day; I’d be covered in bruises from all the dancing. I even had bruises on the top of my toes from walking around in heels all night.
I was a loner at the strip club as well. All of the dancers there were either intimidated by me or were heavy drug addicts. All of the dancers saw me as competition rather than someone on their level. (Subconsciously they knew I wasn’t meant to be there). I was the only healthy, in shape, and drug free dancer in the building. All of the other black dancers were out of shape and had “Cottage Cheese”, butts. They knew how to climb that pole though!
Anyway, after I quit the club, I knew that I needed to find some where else to live. My Co worker from McDonald’s offered me her place. At first I thought it was a good idea. A fresh start and a chance to save some money. Yea right!! I had to sleep in her children’s room in the same bed as her oldest daughter. I had to get her 5 children up for school every morning, find their school clothes, feed them, and wake her up to take the kids to school. Every dam day things got worse.
I started working at Burger King and the pay was so low, I couldn’t afford to pay her rent. At first, she made it seem like it was alright that I couldn’t pay much. Then I started getting text from her in the middle of the night. She would tell me that it was okay for me to come lay in the bed with her and her boyfriend. I would lye there scared as hell and I’d just ignore the messages. She started to notice that I was ignoring her text so she started texting me earlier in the day while the kids were at school. I finally just said, “No” to her and that pissed her off even more.
My car ended up breaking down so I had it parked in her yard until I could afford to get it fixed. My Co worker and her boyfriend had five cars between the two of them. They made me walk more than 6 miles back and forth to work everyday. She told me that she only wanted me to have sex with her boyfriend for her while she was on her period. ONLY??????!!!!!! LIKE that’s not a lot to ask.
You’re probably thinking about how messed up this sounds right?
I continued to tell her no and she continued to treat me like shit. Now, this chick’s boyfriend was a big time drug dealer so I saw many people, loads of money, and drugs going in and out of this house everyday. Then one day, her boyfriend got caught with drugs and a gun in the car. They went to jail and later sent to prison. (Karma) This chick had the audacity to blame me for her going to jail. She had everybody in town thinking that I was a snitch even though the statements said the opposite. She was the one that told on herself and her boyfriend. Now he’s serving 19 years in prison. She’s still out here doing the same thing, looking for a gangster with money that will father her children. Sad but true.
Since then, I haven’t spoken to her. That event in my life scarred me for life. I look at PEOPLE differently. I’ve lost loads of trust and faith in friendships-I’m even leary about who I allow in my circle. I have very little time or patience for anyone anymore.
This story definitely shows how traumatic events can sculpt your life. Currently, I’m in the same boat as far as friends. “FRIEND-LESS”.
DO YOU HAVE ANY REALLY TRUE FRIENDS?
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