1. Kyro Min-Jae Goings #2
My cousin was a ho whisperer. He was like a damn hound dog. He could sniff out the most secluded whore. I was sure that the scent was strong here.
Rashad gawked at the girl who had her eyes on him. “What’s up? It’s nice to meet you too.”
I laughed inwardly at his pained attempt to be user friendly. The words were nice, but his facial expression lacked all friendliness. This was him, though. Rashad Goings, a superior pitcher for the Augusta Chargers that fans referred to as “Flash.”
Ole girl’s cheek rose. “Do you want to see my tattoo? It’s really cool.”
The bridge of his nose scrunched tightly.
That let me know that Kara told him about the placement of the tattoo.
Based on me in my room, he knew it had to be on a private area of the body.
“Ma, you could save time and just ask me to fuck instead of inviting me to look at your hot pussy. Nah, you’re good, though. ”
She sucked her teeth. “You and your cousin are on some fuck shit. I never said I wanted to fuck either of you. It sounds like y’all want to fuck me.”
Rashad chortled. I continued to work on her tat that I was almost finished with. “Ma, so what you’re telling me is that if you had the chance to fuck one or both of us that you wouldn’t?” he asked.
She shrugged her shoulders. “I mean, I’m not saying that I wouldn’t, but I’m not saying that I would. Shit, it seems like y’all would take—”
“Let me stop you right there, homegirl.” I interrupted her. My hand pointed up to the corners of the room. “See those cameras? Those are for my protection and yours. Ain’t shit about to pop off in here but a tattoo.”
Her eyes scanned the corners. Her forehead was creased. “I don’t remember saying that I agreed to be on camera.”
Thankfully, I just finished the last line on her tattoo. “When you signed all your paperwork three days ago and when you got here, you agreed. Whether you read it or not is not my concern. You should always read what you put your signature on. I’m all done.”
Rashad sat silently as I cleaned her up and explained her aftercare. He followed me and ole girl out of the room when I walked her to pay her balance. As soon as the payment cleared, I tapped the counter. “Kara, please add her to the do not service list.”
“Wait, what? Why are you adding me to the do not service list?” Her facial expression was filled with confusion. I wasn’t sure why.
I leaned against the counter. “First, as the business owner and tattoo artist, I can deny service to anyone for any reason. For you, specifically, your sexual comments made me feel extremely uncomfortable and borderline harassed. For that reason, I rather not service you again, but hey. You got a dope ass tat.”
Kara’s horribly covered laughter caught ole girl’s attention. Her eyes slit before her head snapped back in my direction. “Fuck you. No one wants you or your fuck ass cousin.”
I nodded, looked at the door, and extended my hand toward the door. “Thank you for letting us know. You can leave.”
I didn’t give a fuck about anything that she had to say. None of the shit mattered. There was nothing more that either of us needed to say.
When she looked back at Rashad, he shrugged his shoulders. “You should move your feet. You’re holding up our conversation.”
Her final sentiment to us was her middle finger before she stomped out of the door. No sooner than after she left, Kara leaned forward on the counter. “What did she say? It had to be bad if you banned her. I don’t remember you ever doing that.”
Kara got that nosy shit honestly from her mother, my auntie Rachel. I had two aunties, Rachel and Danielle, as well as one uncle, Martin. My mother was an only child, so all my cousins came from my father, Xavier’s, side.
Rashad snickered, then said, “Let’s just say she’s the type that would put a fraudulent case on a nigga. No one has time for that shit. I commend you always protecting yourself.”
“Shit, I learned from the best. Now, what’s up with you?” I asked him. His ass didn’t just pop up unannounced.
Rashad’s head bucked back as Kara laughed. “Damn, I just can’t come check you out? That’s fucked up.”
I stood there and stared at him for a beat before I spoke. “Are you going to Auntie Danielle’s mural unveiling? It should be dope.”
“You know I’m there. Auntie’s work is dope. Plus, I love me an artist ho. That’s where they’re all gonna be.” Rashad was serious, which made the statement funny.
Kara smacked his arm. “I can’t wait until you meet that woman that’s gonna have you in a chokehold. She’s gonna give you hell, and your ass is going to be willing to walk through all the flames.”
“Why in the fuck would you put that shit on me? I promise sometimes I think you don’t love me, Kara.” The feigned dramatics in his voice was comical.
Kara reached her hand out and grabbed his. “I put it on you because I do love you. Your ass is out here looking lonely since your best friend is married with a child now. You need the same damn thing.”
When he waved her off, I laughed. “You’re a lot, but she’s right. Your man whore bestie got married, and now you’re on your whore branch alone.”
It had been a few years since Rashad’s best friend Declan married his wife. Now they had a son, so his lifestyle was different. There was no more partying all night and being with unnecessary bullshit. At times, my cousin loved the unnecessary bullshit.
“Well, shit! Come out on the branch with me. You don’t have shit going on,” he offered.
I chuckled. “Nah, I’m good on that. I do what I do, but these hos too much now.”
Kara excused herself from our conversation since she had no input on our whorish ways. It was fucked up that she thought I had whorish ways because I stayed to myself. Yeah, I had a few females I fucked with here and there, but that was far from being a whore. The women knew what it was.
Rashad stuck around while I cleaned my private room and until my next client arrived. We talked about a little bit of everything under the tat lamp before he left. Any time with my cousin was a good time regardless of what the activity was.
Some Days Later
Painted Walls . . .
The day was finally here, and the art community and my family were out to celebrate Danielle’s new mural unveiling. My auntie was my art bestie. We bonded on our love for sketching. She was the first person that I tatted, and Rashad was the second. That was before I had my license.
“Why they dress like that?” my grandmother, Mi-Kyung, asked with her nose turned up. “They dress like there a pool here. There no pool.”
All I could do was laugh. Anytime that my grandparents came out of their house or businesses, there was a guarantee for laughs.
They had been in the country since the seventies, but that didn’t mean shit when it came to their judgment of others.
I always laughed when I heard Asian comedians talk about how judgmental their parents or grandparents were. It was absolutely true.
“Halmeoni, jebal pandanhaji maseyo. ulineun daniel-eul wihae yeogi wass-eoyo (Grandmother, please stop judging. We are here for Danielle),” I softly scolded her. I spoke in her native language since we were surrounded by people who had already glared at her loud ass.
Her head snapped in my direction. She didn’t respond, but she did roll her eyes. She knew I was right. I wrapped my arm around her neck, then kissed her temple. I snickered at her huffs under her breath.
“Why you look like that, Mi-Kyung?” Lord! Here comes Loraine.
I loved how close both sides of my family were.
From what I was told, when my parents first started dating after they met at an art exhibit, my grandparents were cordial and respectful with each other.
It wasn’t until my two grandmothers realized they had something in common.
They both worked with their hands in different ways.
My grandmother, Mi-Kyung, created beautiful garments with her needles and sewing machine, while my grandmother, Loraine, created the beauty of family through her passion as a teacher, community leader, and church choir director.
She was a person who never met a stranger.
From the connection between my grandmothers came the deeper connection between my grandfathers, Elijah, or Eli, and Hyun-Woo.
When those four got together, it was always a time.
“Your grandson think I should say nothing about the naked women here. Someone forgot to tell them it’s not a pool party,” Mi-Kyung said with no real emotion. Outside of her family and passion, it was believable that she had no emotions.
Grandma Loraine chuckled as she looked around at the women. I wouldn’t say that lies were told about how they looked. Yeah, ass cheeks and titties were out, but I was used to it.
“Mi-Kyung, you know these hooker hos don’t care. They wear that so their coochie juices can be airborne easier.” She spoke like the same hooker hos that she spoke about weren’t right next to us.
I side-eyed Rashad, who stood on the other side of me. When we locked eyes, I spoke with mine. “Nigga, help me!”
Rashad snickered. “Y’all tripping. These sanctified women look lovely.”
This fool! The way Grandma Loraine’s and Mi-Kyung’s heads snapped in his direction. I wanted to make a bet on which one would cuss his ass out this time. They generally took turns.
“Rashad, go over there. Maybe the whores of Sodom and Gamora will follow you.” Grandma Mi-Kyung waved him off.
My eyes bulged because that sounded more like something that Grandma Loraine would say. She knew that herself. When she started to laugh, all we could do was shake our heads. “That was a good one.”
Like God wanted to give me a break, the program started. People spoke about my auntie, as well as another muralist that would have their mural unveiled today. The host asked my aunt to give the inspiration behind her mural before they unveiled it.