Chocolate City

Chapter 3: Pony

Khyree

"Daddy, look!" Sasha yelled in my ear. I bit my lip in concentration, hunched over my laptop.

"That's great baby." I muttered, scanning the website for any sort of ideas. Before I went in to get a possible job, I wanted to know what stripping was all about. I mean, I'd been to my fair share of clubs, but none where it featured a bunch of niggas swinging their packages around.

"You didn't even look." She whined in exasperation. I tore my eyes from the screen to look into her hazel ones. Her bottom lip was poking out, making her look all to much like her mother.

"What's up Sash?"

"Look at it daddy." She shoved a piece of paper into my face that I gently took from her tiny hands.

It was a picture of spongebob, her favorite cartoon. Rhonda would kill me if she knew I let her watch it.

"Very nice. Daddy's busy, why don't you go see what grandma's doing?"

She stomped her foot, snatching her picture back and trailing into the kitchen where Ma must've been. "Sasha watch that attitude!" I called after her, chuckling to myself. I picked the crumpled piece of paper out of my pocket and made my way to the door.

"Ma, I'll be right back!" I yelled towards the kitchen.

She was at the doorway before I could even turn the knob. " What the hell are you up to now Khy? You haven't seen that little girl in there for weeks, and already you takin' off?"

I groaned, "Ma, this is important, I'll be right back."

Sasha waddled into the living room, flour coated her hands and face. She stared at me in all her five year old innocence, "We're making cookies."

I sighed, "Like I said, I'll be back." Before she could say another word, I closed the door behind me and made my way over the the car.

My thoughts were jumbled and I decided to hotbox a little before pulling out of the lot. Ten minutes later, I pulled up to the building. The big flashy sign that read "Chocolate City" wasn't lit yet, but I could see shuffling going on inside.

I pushed the door open and smacked straight into someone else. "Watch it man." He said in a Spanish accent.

"My bad", I said not even paying attention. The stage was set in the center forming a t-shape. Behind the stage was a set of purple curtains. To the left was a bar, and tables were scattered around the room.

"We're not open buddy, didn't you see the fucking sign?" Said the guy from before.

"What? Oh I'm not here to watch y'all niggas. I said wrinkling my nose. "I came to see if y'all were still hiring."

He looked me up and down, "Dios mio, you're a little skinny kid."

I gritted my teeth, "look, just tell me who the hell run this place."

He threw his hands up in surrender, "This way." I followed him through the back of a dark corridor, until we reached an office door.

I opened the door cautiously, "Yo."

The guy sitting at the desk was the opposite of what I expected. He was a white guy, mid thirties. He had red hair and a matching goatee. His suit was tailored and looked pretty clean cut for some sleazy nigga who owned a stripping joint.