Fat Girl by A. Dakala

Tesia Feely wasn’t always a big girl. Over the years of being in a verbally abusive relationship she seem to allow herself to binge eat when stressed out over bullshit.

“This working out in the gym after work is not working for me for Sharon.” “I feel like everybody in there is staring at me; wondering is the big girl going make it or pass out.” “I’m Comfort being like I am; it just gets a little uncomfortable when I’m trying to look cute at times in my clothes.” “My hair is always the bomb, my skin is flawless and I’m a big girl with a big butt.” “What man doesn’t want a bitch like that.” “Girl you got it going on, it’s your health I’m worried about; atleast walk and eat better and if some guys love that about you why can’t you keep a man?” said Sharon. “Girl I hear you, but I’m not into the organic foods, soy milk and a bitch definitely is not turning into a vegetarian, I love my meat; so now what?” We are going to walk daily, incorporate more walking, eliminate the sodas and sugars and minimize the alcohol consumption. “Oh hell no, you trying to give a bitch a migraine, heart attack and the munchies.”

I love my red wine after a crazy day of working with them jealous hoes. “I didn’t say stop drinking, just minimize how much consume.” “I hear you Sharon, let’s talk about this later over a medium well steak and some wine, I’m starving.” Girl you are too much, you should be a comedian.

Over the next few weeks Tesia committed to most of the things Sharon suggested surprisingly enough. In a matter of two weeks the results started to show.

Good morning Sharon. Tesia are you okay this morning, I’ve been calling you all morning; that’s unlike you not to pick up. Girl, I’m so damn depressed today. Why? I can’t seem to fit into none of my clothes; everything is too big now that I’m losing weight and inches. You know that three hundred dollar AlakaD skirt I bought two months ago, is too damn big. I held it up and it looked like curtains. Sharon started cracking up laughing. You are a fool Tes. I tell you what let’s go shopping after work, you can pick out a few outfits on me. “Now you talking; can a big girl get some shoes too, you know that’s what a complete outfit is” said Tesia.

Throughout the work day, everyone was complimenting Tesia on her new look. Even one of the Account Executives she once had her eye on had to give her a double look as she walked passed him; glowing. He stopped dead in his tracks. “Tesia, I love that perfume that you’re wearing and by the way; you looking great.” Thank you Mr. Hall” “Call me Steven” he said. Okay, Mr. Hall. Tesia continued walking with her head held high. The weight loss didn’t change Tesia, the people around Tesia changed.

That evening after shopping with Sharon, they both decided to go to a happy hour at the Fellaship Cigar Bar. This was an upscale cigar bar that was own by Cam Newton, the quarterback of the Carolina Panthers. Both women were looking good in their new outfits and just out to enjoy themselves with no expectations or intentions.

Not one or two but every man in the build at some point looked there way; some smiled and others threw up their glasses as a sign of how are you. Once they were seated, it didn’t take long for the first man to make his move. Over two rounds of drinks, a couple of Cuban cigars and already two hours of enjoying themselves; therechad been over 10 men they turned down. They were either, too aggressive, couldn’t take their eyes off the breast, had playboy tendencies or just wasn’t attractive. Until Tesia notice one guy that would look over at her from time to time and smile. A thick neck, big guy, sort of like a linebacker. He sat at a table alone, but guys coming in was walking up to him shaking his hand and patting him on the back. He never once got up, just enjoying his drinks and cigar. When the waitress came over to check on Tesia and Sharon; they asked who was he. The waitress responded, “Oh that’s Ezell Crawford, he’s a defensive lineman for the Carolina Panthers.” “By the way, he wanted to know what were you ladies drinking, next round on him and also girlfriend wearing the dark blue; he told me to tell you the color you wearing looks gorgeous on you.” Tesia, who he was referring too, jumped out of her chair and made her way over to thank him in person. It wasn’t long before he was joining the ladies in their area. Ezell and Tesia seem to hit it off with each other; I mean you couldn’t get a sheet of notebook paper in between them; as they were sitting right under each other for the next three hours. He was truly a good looking, well mannered gentle giant. You could tell he was well respected, he came over and joined us for a few mintues. Ezell introduced us but his special introduction for Tesia was, “This is going be Mrs. Crawford oneday” he told Cam. Cam agreed with him and added; “ya’ll would look good together too, seriously, we can double date.” Tesia was all smiles, I think she lost 20 pounds blushing and I gained 10 pounds feeling like the Uber driver that got her there.

Over next several weeks and months, Ezell and Tesia seen each other everyday, infact Carolina is playing Arizona this weekend and we’re boarding the plane now. I guess I’m going to be the third wheel until I find someone; until then I’m happy for my friend Tesia Feely-Crawford. Oh yes, he popped the question six months into their relationship and now she’s living like a Boss, you go Phat girl!

Then the unplanned unthinkable happened.

Boy Please! By A. Dakala

February 2, 2019; 6 o’clock.

Me and my BFF’s; Shari, Renee and Bonita decided to go to the cabins in the Georgia mountains this weekend, since we didn’t have anything else to do and we all were single now. We all have boy toys to go to in a time of a sexual needs; but nothing serious because any of them were worth settling down with. So as sisters in the name of love; we all decided to break up with all their asses, on the same day at the same damn time.

It’s seems that as the older we got; the harder it was to find a good loving man without having to lose who we were or having to give up our bodies to sex lusters with no goals.

Both men and women at some point in their lives come with so much baggage these days; it’s either baby mama or daddy drama, in between jobs, momma boys or daddy girls, criminal records, no jobs, hustling drugs; hell I could go on and on.

The ones that don’t have extra baggage are unattractive in their own way or no where near qualified to be seen out in public without wanting to attempt to display public affection. I refuse to belittle my qualifications for a steak or seafood dinner date. Why does life have to be so difficult and complicated or is it just me?

So we arrived at the cabins, ready to open up bottles of wine, have a few days of girl talk and see what single men are available for us single women. There was only one issue. It was National LGBT weekend.

A Heart Choice to make by A. Dakala

Waddell Crosby wasn’t your typical African American male with a college degree, tons of street smarts and loved by the ladies. He was the kind of man that a woman could love one night and call her best friend on other days; someone who would have your back and go to war with you whether you was wrong or right. Once Waddell was committed to you he would give you 100% of him; no part time anything in his life with reason.

A single man who could give a woman more than just a materialistic diamond ring or a Tiffany bracelet; he was the kind of man that most women would dream of having. Someone who showed unconditional love whether it was holding her hand while driving, arms locked while walking across the street or kissing on her neck standing in the checkout line at Walmart. Regardless anyone around Waddell would know that he showed his love to whoever he was with; his smile would light up a room; his well-groomed beard was somewhat perfect as if he was modeling his beard for a magazine cover, his cologne scent traveled from block the block. Fahrenheit was his favorite cologne; both men and women would always approached him and compliment him on how good he smelled.

But now there’s a new year approaching; 2019! Waddell is ready to settle down with one special woman in his life. The problem he’s having is he has been dating consistently three different women. There’s been no commitment to either woman just consistently dating, conversing on the phone but he have had sex with all three of them at some point throughout the course of dating them. Each one of these females bring something different to the table that one doesn’t have and now Waddell has to decide on the qualities that these female brings. Which one are branded qualities and which ones are qualities that could make a break a good love relationship.

First there was Fresca Sparkle, she’s sweet as black cherry citrus on a hot summer day but cold as winter. She was smart as Albert Einstein; love to read books and would correct you for using improper grammar as if she was a school teacher wearing Gucci shades standing in high heels. Well educated; holding a master’s degree. She really could have been a doctor. The problem with Fresca; she wasn’t consistent or persistent and couldn’t remember what she did day after day. She wasn’t into fashions, brands didn’t mean nothing to her. A typical day of dressing up for her would be wearing a nice sweatsuit with some flip flops and she would throw her long black hair back into a ponytail but she was sexy as hell though and very beautiful. She reminded me of a California woman cool, calm and collective that just wanted to be loved by a good man. Sex with her was like flipping a coin, some days it was good, some days it was just ok and sometimes it didn’t exist. When we was out on a date we had a great time holding hands, conversing and laughing with each other as if we were best friends and lovers; but there was another side to her that I hated. She always wanted to play the victim never was wrong, always was right and not to mention I caught her in so many lies I just never addressed it, it just wasn’t that serious to me. Another thing that I observed was all of her friends seem to be gay or lesbians.

One thing I did love about her though; no matter what she had my back. She never put her friends before her man even though I truly wasn’t her man but we were dating and she would drop her plans that she had to spend time with me on any given day. Fresca loved cleaning her house always kept it clean very family oriented; that definitely was a plus coming from a man who wanted to have kids and build his own foundation of a family. She paid her bills on time, she didn’t club, she didn’t drink unless it was socially and she never smoked. She was a good girl trying to be better and made it to the scale of wifey material possibly.

Secondly there was Constant Bauman; sexy as hell on the outside, wore the latest fashions, smell good and look good in everything she wore; a true diamond in the rough. Whatever the latest fashion and brands out there where she had it or plan to get it. The problem I had with her was she had low self-esteem and she couldn’t seem to make her own decisions without seeking the advice of her fake friends. Once again another female playing the victim like her shit don’t stink. Another issue I had with her was it seemed that all of her friends around her were gay or lesbians even though she claimed that she was 100% straight. I can tell in conversation that she’s dated a lot of men in her past life not that she’s had sex with all of them but she’s dating a lot of men most of them were drug dealers, on drugs at some point or proclaim to have money.

Now what I did love about her is the sex we had was off the chart; it was no holds bar. Whatever we wanted to do we did. I was truly addicted to making love to this woman; it was always exciting, full of energy and she threw it back just as much as I gave it to her. I can honestly say I never had a sexual complaint when it came to her, hell I’m thinking about sexing her right now as I’m writing this. She loved cleaning her house; always kept it clean; sometimes I wondered was it all just a showboat to impress people. Was she wifey material? She could be but there was a few things that she definitely would need to work on; like handling the same things that she dishes out. She was a work in progress; a good girl trying to be better.

Thirdly there’s Anastasia Faust; also a very smart and intelligent individual that would sometimes give you the impression that she knew way more than you did on any subject, any topic, any time of the day. She would definitely intimidate a weak man especially when it comes to making life decisions. Granted every man in her past life followed her lead as if she wore the pants. I guess that’s what happened when a strong-minded woman meets a man with no potential and the men in her past had no potential for what I’m hearing.

One of the things I didn’t like about her is not having enough drive in her life to do better or want more. Yes she was college educated but I still feel like she didn’t apply herself. She had a great mind for business, good with numbers, great with her hands; love to figure things out or read instructions and put things together. Family oriented on a scale of 1 to 10 I would say she was a four. The type of woman who at some point in her life wanted her freedom away from kids. Now when it comes to having a clean house, she damn sure was a pack rat and the whole time that we’ve been dating; I never seen her pick up a broom, a mop or even dust rag; kind of reminded me of a hoarder.

One thing I did love about her is the sex was great. Definitely no holds bar; there was no rules or no regulations; she could go all night; I made a tap out a few times. I never had to initiate sex with her as soon as she seen me it was hugs, kisses and then she would start unbutton my clothes. A true man’s dream; I’m closing my eyes now just picturing the softness of her lips on my entire body from head to toe. Well she wifey material definitely with alittle adjustment. She didn’t club, she didn’t smoke and she would only drink socially; she just loved having a good time and just wanted to be loved by a good man. A good girl trying to be better.

So I decided in the year 2019 I was going to make a final decision and choose only one of these ladies to be a part of my life, my circle, my growth and the last brick to my foundation. So I decided to choose from a very heart decision; Ms.!

Fingers crossed under oath by A. Dakala

I truly didn’t give a damn about telling the truth under oath; I raised my right hand with pride put left hand on the Bible and told God to forgive me silently as I close my eyes. I wanted to be picked as a juror as badly as I wanted to hit the lottery. I had some inside connections at the courthouse that made sure my application was put upfront. So when they sent me the letter in the mail; I said yes the day has come for my family to get Justice for my cousin Jelly. See my nickname was peanut butter and anytime you seen me, you seen jelly; peanut butter and jelly, we we’re different but one in the same. The man who murdered my cousin street name was Breadman; Street Hustler, con man, pathological liar but he also was jealous of everything Peanut Butter and Jelly did in the streets. So we set him up and planted evidence that would only make him the prime suspect.

I meant I was nervous the first day the all of the jurors had to check in at the courthouse. I prayed that if they ran a background check on me that I didn’t have any type of open warrants that resurfaced from the years of dirt that me and jelly did growing up. I didn’t care what anybody else in the room decided or did if they was chosen to be a juror, my mind was already made up that his ass would get convicted. I knew this wasn’t going to be a case of a hung jury. I was going to make sure that his ass did his time and if anybody felt like he wasn’t guilty they was going to have to deal with me. I had a back-up plan for a back-up plan that backed up my backup plan. I’ve already spotted out the weakest link in the room some dusty old ass lady hair whiter than snow looking at me from the corner of her eyes. Then there’s this white guy who wouldn’t make eye contact with me probably voted for Donald Trump acting like he was scared as hell, he had bit all of his finger nails down to the fingers.

As they passed around the questionnaire application for everyone to fill out. I raised my head and scanned around the room just to see who was really into filling out the paperwork who I need to keep my eye on. These questions would determine if you would be a good fit or not; I lied on every question that was asked even down to my ethnic group. Hell know I wasn’t just African-American today; no not today. Today I was African-American mixed with whatever the hell they wanted me to be mixed with; I was going to become a juror.

As we all got separated in groups I made sure I did not communicate with a soul in the room. I had my shirt button to the neck like a nerd, I wore reading glasses that I could barely see out of and make sure I didn’t make any eye contact with the deputy that kept peeping his peasy ass head in and out of the door checking on everyone. “Where’s Cabana Sienna?” He asked. I raise my eyebrows and look over the top of my glasses staring at the deputy and slightly raised my finger the signal that I was him. “Come with me” he said. The little dusty ass lady made some sound gesture as I walked by; I looked back at her and rolled my eyes. I wanted to pat my ass at her but she turned looked in the opposite direction.

“Cabana Sienna is everything on your application truthful to the best of your knowledge” the judge said. I had my fingers crossed as my left hand was stuffed in my front pocket; and my right hand raised. The judge gave me a stamped document and a name tag that had my name on it and I was officially Juror number 1 1 1 7.

I had made it to the final stage and considered an official juror in the murder case of De’Angelo “Jelly” Sienna.

On the first day of the murder case this will be the first time that I had seen Jelly’s murderer face to face in court. As I stared at him without blinking an eye; he notice me and in his own words silently uttered the words Butter you up next.

Lawyers for both sides presented their evidence; they either was going to spare his life or take his life and my job was to take his life by all means necessary.

Day two and day three passes with more evidence; more finger pointing and a lot more work that I needed to do. He had no alibi; there was no witnesses.

On the fourth day unexpectedly we were dismissed; there was no evidence presented this day but they did announce that they had a witness that came forward my heart dropped.

On the 5th day as all the jurors who was selected gathered together to talk about the evidence on the murder case; there were a few cops who I didn’t quite remember or recognize that was on the scene 5 years ago. Also the old Dusty lady, the silent racist white guy who couldn’t make eye contact with me and some Asian chick who didn’t have on a name tag, but had a note pad and pen in her hand were the chess pieces of the game. Maybe the Asian chick was there just taking notes or she could have been one of the jurors who knows, who cares I had a job to do; I needed to get somebody’s ass convicted of Jelly’s murder. I was nervous, I started to sweating wondering who was this witness. As I replayed that night back in my head there couldn’t have been a witness it was only me, Breadman and Jelly.

On the 6th day I was pissed because the whole room was undecided; pretty much a split down the middle of a conviction. I stood my ground and tried to convince others who didn’t want to convict, the reason why a conviction was necessary. After nearly six hours, It seemed to have worked as I had planned. Everybody talked as if a conviction was the best solution in the murder case. We were just waiting to give the judge our vote.

We could hear the Deputies walking down the hallway towards the room that we were waiting in. Then the door open an a Deputy stuck his head in the room and said “Butter, Judge Gotcha’ass needs to have a word with you immediately.”

Quepasa by A. Dakala

Sitting at the bar having my usual shots of tequila. Mentally I’m exhausted from work and my home life seems to be a joggling act; trying to get my house sold. Not to mention I had to curse out my next door neighbor for allowing his deranged mutt to continuously shit on my lawn after I threaten to call the dog pound.

Once again I find myself giving someone chance after chance. Back to my mental exhaustion; I guess it has a lot to do with how my love life seems to be a run away train at times. Then the bombshell of the entire week was finding out my man has a child on the way with my manager’s sister that he has been keeping a secret from me. Though I didn’t know he dated this incompetent ghetto barbie until I saw his picture on my manager’s Facebook page. As I think back to it now I’m wondering is this the reason I keep getting looked over on promotions I apply for and my home sex life seems to be a daily excuse.

Today hasn’t been a good day; the ghetto Barbie is here visiting her sister; my manager at the office and I have to look her in her face. I want to curse her ass out and beat that ass but I blame my so call man. I know my manager knows a lot more then I do about the situation. If I could just get her ass fired or key her car may be flatten her tires or loosen the lugs; I would feel better. Mentally I want to get revenge on everyone around me that’s involved with this shit show. Being the Christian woman I’m trying to be i know that’s not right.

Last night he called me trying to apologize in one breath and then in another breath he’s trying to say that she was there for him when I wasn’t. I guess me giving up my dreams of getting my master degree and taking out loans so his ass could have a car to drive to work or paying his past due bills so his beacon score could look halfway decent wasn’t me being there for him. This sorry son-of-a-bitch didn’t even have the nerve to come home on my birthday and I took off that day from his request.

Tonight I think I’m putting his ass out I don’t give a damn where he goes, I know he can go stay with her; for my understanding she lives with her sister. I think today is going to be my last day at work; I’ve had it up to here I have a nice savings account that I can afford to be without a job for at least 6 months. There should be no problem for me finding a job and after tonight I know shit will hit the fan at work because I’m about let it all out.

So my plan is to prepare a nice lovely steak dinner, with salad, loaded baked potatoes; and his favorite bottle of wine. I might have Marvin Gaye or Teddy pendergrass playing and then I’mma let his ass have it as I throw all that shit in the garbage can, with a thank you card and his suit case standing by the exit!

Dirty bird by A.Dakala

Deuce “Bird” Fletcher was a name the streets ran from, was a name that nobody wanted to cross paths with. His background spoke for itself; the outside of him look like a normal African American male that had his shit together and in order. He was clean-cut, always smell good; wearing the newest colonge, clothes were casket Sharp but he was a psycho, a pathological liar who would kill a man at a drop of a dime. Known to tie bricks to a man’s ankles and throw him off the spaghetti junction bridge during rush hour traffic. This negro was a monster; a nightmare you would only see in your dreams but would have you waking you at 3am in the morning pissing in your clothes.

Though he represented Atlanta Georgia to the fullest; no one knew his background, where he was born and raised ,who his parents were or even if he had siblings. Not to mention if there were any offsprings he fathered throughout the years; society could only pray there wasn’t another one like him anywhere on earth.

Every relationship he has ever had with a female would only last 6 to 8 months before they would pack their bags and relocate to an unknown state; due to the type of individual he was capable of being.

Revenge to him was like an appetizer on a menu; you will get served what you deserve.

The other day a motorist cut him off by running a red light and he followed the vehicle until it came to a stopping point; their residents. He stood their at the driver door as the gentleman roll down his window in fear. Without saying a word he tasered the guy, “now you will think twice about cutting someone else off.” The man slumped over in the front seat as if he was having a seizure. Bird put the taser back in his coat pocket, got in his car and drive off like he was just visiting for Sunday dinner.

No one knew about the other personality of Bird that always seem to bring him to a much needed calm state of mind.

I DO NOT look like my story by A.Dakala

Working in corporate America is similar to a domestic violence victim covering her scars with make-up.

Everyone has an untold story, some bad turned good; some good turned bad. No one watches the news for good news, news is watched with the intentions of something going terribly wrong.

As I was writing this I thought of a few individual stories that I couldn’t resist from speaking on. I will save my story for last.

No one expected Eugene’s life to sparrow out of control the way it did. I mean he had a very strict up bringing as a child and parents who were adamant about him getting a better education. Anything that came too easy was settling in the eyes of his parents. Soon Eugene started to become rebellious; as other kids teased him about the unbranded name of clothes and shoes he wore. His parents were very frugal about the family’s needs and wants; plus there wasn’t a lot of money coming in the house.

As a means to connect with other kids just to fit in, Eugene got into playing sports early; a requirement his father was religious about. By the time he was in middle School he was a star athlete in every sport he played. As his popularity grew so did his ego. Seeing his name in the local newspaper every week; seem to be the only time Eugene would have a smile on his face.

Becoming interested in girls started taking priority over sports. Now that he’s in high school; getting a job to impress the girls became his top concern. He was very popular among his peers in the sport arena. Some even wore self-made jerseys on the school’s game day to display their suppose and liking of him during the school’s home game Friday pep rallies.

How could a star football player with such a nasty temper and even worse attitude be the face of such successful school. The football coaches had seen enough of his pre-Madonna activities towards his team mates. One day Eugene was seen cuddled up with a female outside of the boys locker room; when he should have been on the practice field. As the coaches watched and took notes, Eugene took his time getting to the practice. Not knowing that the coaches had enough of his rock star attitude, the head coach single Eugene out in front of everyone. Collectively they decided to kicked him off the team immediately.

As Eugene stormed off the field in a rage; he didn’t know his life would take a turn from that day.

Three months before he was to graduate from high school Eugene gets into a fight with another student and breaks the young man’s nose. The school called the police to have him arrested and expelled him for the year; in which means he wouldn’t graduate with his class.

He did manage to go tonight school and get his GED but the streets started to look attractive to him. It wouldn’t take him long to start selling drugs in his neighborhood. I know what you saying, same shit different day. But, everybody’s story has a different outcome.

Fast forward money came quick and before long I found myself addicted to hustling. I knew that I still needed my education just in case the street money slowed down. Each week I was lacing my body with tattoos, looking for that particular image. My journal I had been keeping for years turn into songs of pain. It was my source of crying out; not for help but I just wanted anyone to listen to my pain that no one could feel. So now my body art has me looking like a thug, I enrolled in college as a Golden Bull freshman working towards a Business degree. I was so undecided on what I wanted to major in, but finally got it right after three changes. College student during the day, lab tech in the evenings and drug dealer at night.

Fast forward ten years with a body full of tattoos. Entered me; the corporate thug. On the outside my life look grand, big beautiful homes, fancy cars, love life could be better, but we all are works in progress.

I hide behind my career from all the evil things i have done in life and to people, surrounding my time in the streets. I don’t regret my past but it often leaves memorable scars. To look at me you would not be able to tell am i a K.I.N.G.!

Create a website or blog at WordPress.com

Up ↑