Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 69170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
Oh boy! I looked back at Sheila, but just as she did when we got in the car, she suddenly became a cloud expert or some shit because her eyes were trained on the sky. Heifer!
“Who’s got four kids in Ivy League colleges? With scholarships no less?”
“Oh, that’s me.”
“Any of your kids been to jail? Been in trouble with the law?”
“No, of course not.”
“So, who the fuck did their shit?”
“Me, I guess.”
“You guess? Bitch, you better own your shit. You raised four kickass kids and kept your house in order while he built up his business. You think he could’ve done as well as he did if you didn’t have his back and carried the bulk of the weight at home, so he didn’t have to?”
“The problem is you women who choose to be SAHM, forget your damn worth because of these asshole women who look down their noses at you. I go out to work because that’s what I like because if I had to stay home with my kids, none of those fuckers would’ve made it outta kindergarten.”
“You baked cookies and pies and cleaned their runny noses. Went to every PTA meeting and game night; how did you fail?”
“I don’t know.”
“You didn’t; you did the shit, baby. And you deserve a reward. You moping around behind some man that hurt you, and the dick probably wasn’t even that good these last few years was it? Tell the truth.”
“Um.” I was going to kill Sheila in her sleep as soon as this day was over.
“I know it wasn’t, and you know what, he knew too, that’s why he cheated. You people with your fake orgasms ain’t fooling nobody. You think that man don’t know he’s not satisfying you?”
“If your man fucking and your cooch dry as sandpaper, he knows. If he has to reach for the KY Jelly every time, he knows. So what does he do instead of talking to you to find out why you’re thinking about laundry when it’s sexy time? He went looking for a pussy he could get wet. Simple motherfucker.”
“Pussy is pussy. Some tight, some loose, but pussy is pussy, and it don’t matter how many you get bitch you still can’t fuck. Of course, some little chicken head bitch is gonna get wet for the next woman’s husband; it’s the thrill that makes these bitches wet. Not his slimy dick.”
I will never get divorced again.
JOLENE
We were driving for a while before I realized where we were headed. It’s this little town between Maeve’s county and ours, but it has a lively Hispanic community.
Maeve rolled down the windows, and the music came pouring in. I don’t know what the hell they were saying but the beat had all three of us jumping. These two had to show off and started singing along at the top of their lungs, which the men we passed seemed to enjoy and started waving at us.
“See? People aren’t usually dicks. Some good music, food, and a blunt, and everybody looks and sounds the same.” That’s Maeve’s stance and we’re all sticking to it if we know what’s good for us.
‘Y eso sonaba tuwi, tuwi, tuwi, tuwi, tuwi, tuwi
Eso sonaba tuwi, tuwi, tuwi, tuwi, tuwi, tuwi
Eso sonaba tuwi, tuwi, tuwi, tuwi, tuwi, tuwi
Eso sonaba tuwi, tuwi, tuwi, tuwi, tuwi, ah’
By the time she stopped a few doors down, I was singing tuwi tuwi, too, because that’s all I understood, but I know my mood had changed drastically for the better.
We’d pulled up in front of a salon of some sort, and when we opened the door, there was even more music. “Chica.” This gorgeous, curvy Latina woman came over and kissed Maeve’s cheek with a big, wide smile on her face.
“I brought you a new victim, mami´.” She looked at Sheila and then me.
“You must be the victim; let me see.” Ouch, okay, so Sheila is always put together, but damn, I didn’t think I looked that bad.
She walked around me feeling my hair and nodding her head. Out of nowhere, an Asian lady walked over, took one look at the mess on my head, and shook her head. “Why for you do that? That no good.”
“Mae Lee, go do nails and stop harassing my client.” The lady whom Maeve called Juanita said jokingly as I was led to her chair, wondering what the hell was wrong with my hair. While we’re on the subject, I’ve never seen an Asian with bad hair. What the hell is up with that?
Anyway, I had no say in what was going on over my head. The three of them, Maeve, Sheila, and Juanita, did all the talking, and I just sat there as my hair was grabbed and twisted this way and that until they agreed on something.
By my third Mama Juana, I was feeling no pain and was singing along with the rest of them to the music and wondering why this was the first time I’d enjoyed getting my hair done so much.