Sitting in an empty parting lot, sipping on some bottom-shelf whiskey with a friend. This white woman, prolly late 20s, with the biggest tits I have ever seen, counting porn. She starts walking over to us.
My buddy, Billy, begins chuckling, "Dude, it's a whore. And look at those tits,"
His voice was loud and drunk and the woman could easily hear her. "I bet she knows where to find some crack," I say, also easily audible.
Anyway, we let her drink on our bottle, she acts pissed off when I offer $5 dollars to see her breasts. I was too sloppy drunk to get hard, but her boobs were so big and her hips so whoreful that I really did want to fuck her. Billy kept begging me to hook him up, saying he was good to go. But I didn't want some sloppy seconds. I figured some crack would be enough to get me hard.
I asked her to find us some crack; she denied using at first, then I flashed her my wallet and we were walking down to her apartment.
Once we got to the building, I started having second regrets. The apartment was well off the main roads; it was dark, and she was taking us down to the basement apartments.
I changed my mind, but she grabbed my arm and tried to drag me down. She wasn't strong enough. I told her to have her dealer come out. She borrowed my phone, called him, then walked inside, telling me to give her my money too.
"Hell no, let me see what he's got," I reply.
"THEN FUCKING COME IN ALREADY," she howled back, and walked into the building with my phone.
We were lead to an old deaf, semi-lame samoa woman's apartment. The hooker invited me to play ps2 with some nerdy white guy with a goatee, but then grew impatient and demanded my money. I showed her forty bucks.
"FUCK THAT! FUCK YOU! I KNOW YOU GOT A BILL," she growls.
I generally tried not to curse at ladies. "Fuck nah. I'll buy a forty, if it's good, I'll hit an ATM and do a bill."
"FUCKING ASSHOLE," the hooker says, and tries to wrestle my money from my hand. I will admit that she was becoming less and less sexy by the moment.
I tried some more gentle talk with her before finally belting out the command, "Give me my goddamn phone back and you can have the money." I held her wrist and gave her a violent warning glare. I got my phone, she stalked out the room.
Moments later, I hear her cussing and fissing, and she enters the living room and points me. Next, a black man with massive arms and hard muscles looked at my and rolled his eyes, like a minimum wage worker would roll his eyes after having to clean up vomit. They enter the bathroom together.
I advance towards the bathroom, and the old samoa lady practically runs on her lamed knees to stop me. She made the expression of prayer and pleaded for me to sit in the living room with her.
The nerd boy offered me a round on the game. I declined, pursuing information on the whore who had my money. He said that she didn't really live here, but she stayed here a lot, because she worked the entire second floor. He subtly hinted the entire upstairs was a gang house and she was their crack whore.
I waited. And I waited. I smoked a cigarette with the samoa lady, and tried to get her to teach me some sign.
Finally the nerd boy said, "I think she took off. I can help you find her."
"Well, isn't she staying here the night? Ain't she going to back?" I declined.
Less than a minute later, the samoan woman was getting VERY anxious, and was remaining in her kitchen, glancing out at me and my friend (who just stood silently and kid of scared). Nerd boy asked me about four times that he would help me look for her. I finally got the hint and left, giving a good luck cigarette to the samoa woman (i had the vague idea of coming back to try and get crack again later).
My friend, Billy, had a pale look on his face. He wouldn't get up and leave with me. Just kept repeating "She's gonna come back... we should wait we should wait."
So I left him. I was really getting anxious and wanted out of the house. Screw the 40 dollars. As I exited the apartment with Nerd Boy, I heard a lot of commotion in the upstair apartments. There was lots of heavy steps walking towards their front doors and back. I heard a loud, black voice giving some semi-formal speech behind on of the doors. I couldn't make out what he was saying.
However, the apartment across the way from where I was, I could easily hear an angry voice ask, "Yeah! What these two fucks look like? You sure they were fucking with her? Where that at now?"
I felt sicked with adrenaline. My vision and hearing heightened, and I ran through escape routes in my head, and was prepared to try and break the mild mannered nerd boy's neck if I needed to.
Nerd boy suggested we go to the store. I could hear the apartment house preparing for battle, and the nerd boy set an appropiately quick pace.
Halfway to the store, two heavy balls suddenly descended into my scrotum. I turned back to the gang stronghold, suddenly determined to retreive my friend Billy, or at least die with him. Luckily, I saw his terrored face running full speed from the crackhouse.
When Billy caught up with us, I was actually trying to see if I could convince Nerd boy to middle man a crack deal with the gangsters for me. I promised I had lots of money. I don't know what would have happen if I had gone that route, but the moment Billy arrived, he spat on Nerd boy, and flexed every muscle on his body in an aggressive stance towards Nerd body.
"GET THE FUCK OUT HERE YOU PUSSY ASS BITCH," Billy bellowed to nerd body outside of the 24-hour store. "GET LOST, BITCH? CAN'T YOU HEAR ME?"
The nerd boy's eyes narrowed only slightly at the words. I actually caught a hint that he might attack Billy. Billy as only slightly larger.
I stepped between, shook nerd boy's hand, and sent him off. He strolled down the dark rode completely confident.
"We almost fucking died, man," Billy said to me.
"You almost did you idiot. Why didn't you leave with me?"
"I was too scared man. Oh shit, you could hear all those footsteps up stairs. Across the way too. It was like an army of buff black people."
"That's why I left."
"Man, I should have left with you. As soon as you left, I heard like 5 guns click. You know, like when you ready them to fire? At least a few of them were shotguns. And some black dude yelled, "Are you ready to get them boys?"
Billy suddenly became extremely suspicious of his surroundings. My fiending had faded into fear too. We went into the 24 hour store and Billy called his mom for a ride, and he actually cried on the phone.
That night I quit both whores and crack.