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Text: What the fuck you mean you don't have it yet?😡
Milk falls from my mouth as I read a new text on my lock screen...who is dis? Just delete...no say you have the wrong number 👋🏻 nah leave it, Chris. I finish eating Lucky Charms. I liked to pick out extra marshmallows, to have them almost out number the plain ones.
Text: Use this card number 5891 5200 6731 7509 get the shit!
Oooo money...stupid ass I'm gonna wring you dry bissh!
I pluck my phone off the counter and unlock it. To IMessage I go, copying the numbers and exiting out to my notepad to paste and store the information.
This is club money 🙌🏼
.....
At the club I order a round of drinks for me and my guy friend...who I once dated. Sam. "So the motherfucker texts me their card number, you should have seen my face, BISSHHH!!!"
"Was it a guy?" I hear a bit of shielded jealousy in his tone.
"I don't even know." The bartender hands us glasses of vodka mixed with orange juice, I downed mine in five seconds and slide the glass away. "Thank yoooouuuuuu, I forgot my card, thanks for putting it on tab, next time I'm gonna tip you big." I wink. With my new card, of course." I hop from the bar stool and to the dance floor, like a crazed bunny. Once on the scene if the crowd, my ass starts twerking to heavy, bass filled music. "Bitch you gotta drive I'm drunk as hell." My cut up midnight shirt swings, my flawless lace wig does as well. I knew my tiny butt was snatch in the black skinny jeans I had on. I caught a few hoes looking, as I work my hips.
"Don't spend anything off the card."
I roll my eyes. "Or what?"
"Or you'll probably get tracked and go to jail."
I stop enjoying myself, turning on Sam, the only one not dancing. "Fuck off, why ya mad? You can use the card too, we can go shopping and–"
"You don't even know how much money is on there."
"YES I DO $10,000 HOE!" I clap my hands with each word. Before a confused Sam could question how I knew this, I cut him off mid sentence."Google, google is god." A ring hits my line, I take my phone from my back pocket and read a text, swaying to the music around me. "Come here, look look look." I say, hackling in laughter and waving Sam over.
Text: Fuck you, I'm tracking your phone 🔪
"HAAAAAAAAAA HA HA HA HAAAAAAAA!" I bellowed over the music.
Reply: Imma just get another #Iphone
Sam disapproves of my text and tries to swipe my phone from my hands. But when I'm this lit my grip was like glue. "Uh uh, stop!" I smell alcohol on my breath and feel a buzz coming on.
"How much did you spend?" He hisses at me protectively, coming a little too close to my face. "This is dangerous."
I huff, then blow raspberries at him, then I power walk to the restrooms, feeling him tail after me. I go into a stall and drop my phone in the toilet. Watching it bubble to the bottom of the bowl. My eyes go to my wrist, where I'd written the card number in pen. I smirk, then turn to Sam, raising my shoulders rhythmically to the booming beat outside the restroom. "Solved."
...
Next day.
I live in New York...that must sound appealing, but it isn't. I fucking hate it. Too fucking crowded, full of rats and trash, smells like poison, and gets too cold. But, it's human to stay put, I guess. I work at Forever 21. I must say I like it. Benefits of working in a mall: 🤑 everything looks good on you in your mind so you get it. Swipe swipe. I walk the downtown streets with millions of people, smelling their funk and losing personal space, while I call an Uber. Bitter coldness whacks my face, I sniff, feeling a slight throb of a headache. Fuck, come on aspirin, save me!
I take a backup phone out of my puffy purple coat...bless me for being smart. Everything from the one I flushed was backed up on it too. My Spotify playlists especially. I place in my headphones and play Nicki's Stupid Hoe. I open safari and view my amazon cart. I had a new phone case, rose gold bish, boots with heels. A new wig, short, black with caramel ombré highlights. A yolo shirt, and charcoal clay masks. The total was $500. I click buy button.
At work, I ring up customers with hand fulls of clothes. A fifty percent off sale was going on. Teenagers grab up mostly perfume, oversized shirts and graphic tees. Adult women usually came for jewelry and shoes. Men for coats and jackets. The machine beeps before me. "That'll be $75.80." A woman rummages in her bag, striking a nerve with me. You know you're gonna need to pay, why wait to look for your card now?? My eyes venture to the windows of the store, outside to crowds of people walking pass or entering other outlets.
On my break, I add more stuff to my cart and check out, in the back room I munch on a KitKat and Flamin Hots. Junk for brunch. "Heyyy, Chris!"
"Oh, heyyy." I said halfheartedly to Jasmine...Jasmine here thinks I like her, even though I show no signs of it...she thinks I'm bisexual, but I'm not. She won't stop flirting with me. "WE ARE NEVER EVER EVER GETTING TOGETHER!" I sing cleverly, while I open a browser.
"I like that song too." She scoots a chair beside me. I look ahead at the door with a bedpan expression. Really girl. "What cha doing?" She asks.
"Looking up dicks." I show her my google search. "Hmmm mmmm, that's all I want in life." I hint heavily. "Gotta go, byyyyeeeeeeeeee." I actually didn't have to go, I had five minutes left. Out in the store I put my badge on, my hoeless feet step on the floor. Some of the customers stare at me. "I'm ready for my picture." I pose dramatically.
"CHRIS!" I hear my boss yell. Oh my fucking god. "Put on your damn shoes!" A fat ass bitch scolds at me, eyeing my fluffy, pink soaks. My hand flips my hair back. She hides a look of disgust as she approaches me, I saw it pinching at the side of her mouth...the bitch hates gays: "oh, I'm fine with those kind of people." She actually said this before: "those kind of people." Da fuck 💁🏻♀️
"I'm still on break, you know my feet sweat, they gonna stank up the store if I don't let em breathe, missy." She fights so hard not to evil eye me, because once she did it, there would be a law suit. A big fat one. "Thank yooou." I stroll behind the register, damn I left my snacks. Ugggghhhhhh, I don't wanna walk. It's so...so far away. Instead I get on my phone and open a new tab, hiding it below the register so I don't get caught. The cashier beside me, Trisha, peeks over. This hoe is just waiting to see a dick pic so she could tell the boss. They all at me in here.
Just then, I receive a mail notification from the card balance website I was using to see the funds of the card, I didn't care to read the name of it again. All I saw was the body of it saying: your balance is $9,200.
....
In my bed, I order jeans, shirts, underwear, jackets and eyeliner. My cart equals out to $2oo worth of items. Thank you hack site...just by entering the number into the tool bar of the website, I got the CVV 734 and the expiration date 04/2021. As well as the routing and account number. I order the shit, feeling like royalty. Should I slow down? NOPE. My phone immediately switches to the call screen, when I buy the items. Absentmindedly, I answer, not reading the screen.
"Sam, leave me alone."
"I'm tracking you." A deep voice said.
My eyes widen, I hang up and I lock my phone...shit, I don't got another backup! My phone rings again. I let it go on. Thinking. Oh fuck, now what smart ass? I'm going to jail na. No, I'm too queen for that. I answer."Okay, I'll stop now."
A long pause on the other end makes me panic. "No, you don't walk away asshole! I have your address."
"Yeah, well fuck you pussy ass motherfucker."
The guy exhales longingly. "It's your funeral." He hangs up.