I used to give a fuck back when my dad was faithful and married to mi madre. That was when I was thirteen slowly creeping to the surface of fourteen, back when I was a good apple. Now I’m a bad seed. That’s the image I like to uphold now. Wreck shit up for him since he wrecked it up for me, and I do it whenever I get a chance to.
Mom think’s she can help me, she says that at nineteen I should be a bright and happy young woman, going to parties, socializing with girls my age, and vamping up my resume for a four year college instead of the junior college I go to.
I tell her to mind her business and mentally tell her to fuck off because I’m not going to be a preppy bitch.
And because I do all of those things.
She just can’t see past her posh new anglo boyfriend. She claims that she can’t stand black men anymore, and that if Richard Bourgeois thinks he one upped her by marrying that Hispanic woman that she can blow his shit to smithereens and get herself an honest to god white man.
Both of them are fake, as if being with a specific ethnicity bumps them up from being African American to being American.
They’re still black and they still have issues. It’s just too bad that they transferred their issues to me.
Now I’m the screwed up one, nineteen and I still haven’t found my way in life. The burger joint I flip patties at is sadly my only solace right now, with the sweet discount I get there I can swim in old fryer grease and go insane with as much Heinz ketchup as I want forever. Despite being so blasé’ about life I’m kinda a big deal at work, I’ve been voted employee of the month seven months in a row.
Who gives a fuck about that though? I do damnit.
Because sadly it’s the only thing I’m good with, well that and flirting.
But flirting is another issue, hot damn I’ve gotten into way too much trouble with my mouth lately. This chick down the street from my brother Cameron’s house wants to smack me down because supposedly I’m trying to steal her man. Honey it’s not my fault you caught your boyfriend with his hand on my ass at that sleazy ass hole in the wall, I didn’t even want his hand there! I was just dancing with my girls (the one’s my mom swear I don’t have) and there he was trying to grind and shit. I told him to back the fuck up and he started talking all this hoopla about how he knew I wanted it and blah blah blah.
Bitch please. I’m a tease. That’s what I specialize in. I don’t put out, I just make you think I’m going to put out.
But still, I’d never flirted with the dude in my life. Thirsty As Hell. I blamed my mama, full lips, round asses, thick thighs and small waists ran in the family and that was a must have apparently.
Anyway. Lemme get back to flippin these burgers like a mufuckin boss.