OUT FOR STEAK

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It was a Sunday and what Damien and I considered our off day, so it was perfect. Usually I would just sit around the house smoking, drinking and watching movies on Netflix or something. I told Damien that I was hungry and in the mood for steak, something I knew that we didn't have in the fridge or couldn't just have delivered to the front door, because I needed an excuse to get out of the house. I threw on some clothes and told him I was running down to the meat market which was about 15 minutes away. Instead, I stopped at a dope spot that I knew of on the east side and grabbed a quarter ounce of crack cocaine, stuffed it in my pussy and made a stop at the grocery store to grab the steaks instead because it was closer. I didn't want him to notice that I was gone too long. I made it back home and started preparing dinner while he watched football blowing a blunt. When he wasn't paying attention, I stepped out into the garage, took the crack out and slid it right under Damien's front seat, and quietly crept right back into the kitchen unnoticed. 

We actually had a good night. It had been a long time since I was really able to even sit around him. We ate good. I sat down and watched a few minutes of football with him. He tried to make a couple of moves to get some pussy, but that was not happening. I lied and said I felt sick from the steak. Then we went to bed like any other night. Well, at least he did. I sat up thinking the whole night. What if he finds it before he leaves?  The what if's were starting to drive me crazy. I even contemplated going out to the garage and taking the dope out of the car. Eventually I dozed off and before I knew it, it was rise and grind time. I woke up and played the sick roll. Even went into the bathroom and was fake throwing up to try and really convince him that I was not going to be able to work today. He fell for it and got dressed to start making his rounds. The minute he walked out the door, I set my plan into action. I went into the kitchen junk drawer and pulled out the old OBAMA phone that we had and placed a call to 911 and asked to speak to the narcotics department. I was transferred immediately. 

"Detective Stan here how can I help you?" 

"You don't know me and I don't know you, but I have some information on a person by the name of Damien I think you might be interested in." 

"If we are talking about the same scum bag who just was released, we most definitely can talk."

"Word on the streets is that he just left home in his BMW with some drugs inside that vehicle." I hung the phone up and broke that bitch into a thousand pieces just in case they were trying to trace or track my call. Now all had to do was sit back and wait on the call from Damien's new home...THE COUNTY JAIL.

The rest of the day was a nightmare. I was extremely nervous because I knew that if he had any idea that I had something to do with those drugs being stashed in his car, he would without a doubt kill me. I had to have paced that living room floor a hundred times. I rolled a blunt to try and ease my mind, but that only made matters worse because then I thought I started hearing shit around the house. By then I just wanted to call Damien and tell him "Look, I fucked up and stashed some drugs in your car then called the police on you." I knew that was not going to go even half way as smooth as I pictured it. Around 10 pm, my cell phone rang, and it was an unknown number. "Hello" I spoke very shallow into the phone still trying to sound a little sick just in case it was Damien.

"You have a collect call from the county jail do you accept the charges?"

I couldn't have been more excited to get that call! "Yes I'll accept." 

"Love. This is Damien." 

"What the fuck Damien? Why are you calling me from jail again?" 

"Baby, these mutherfuckers set me up. You know I don't carry any drugs on me. I got pulled over on 94 and these pigs claim they found crack cocaine under my driver seat."  

I acted as if I was in total shock, I think I even pretended to have shed and tear and cried a little bit too, but really on the other side of the line I was celebrating. I was going to be finally able to leave all this bullshit behind me. I finished the call by acting like I was listening to his every command. The only thing I was going to follow through with was giving his lawyer all of his stash money because if for some odd reason he got out, I did not want him on my heels. I stayed at that house for the next two months planning my future and finally decided that I was moving to Vegas. I found one of my cousins on Facebook who said it was cool to move in with her to get on my feet. So the night of February 3rd, 2010, I walked out of that house with just the clothes on my back, a few thousand in my purse, and a completely different attitude. I wanted and needed change. After all I had been through, nothing and I mean nothing, was going to stop me now.  

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