SORIMAH STYLES #3
We listened to Megan Thee Stallion the entire way getting us in the club mood. She knew how to pop her shit but also give you something to throw your ass to. I loved that darn woman.
I was able to gobble down my food in time because before I knew it, we were pulling into the parking lot. It was jammed pack and it was obvious we didn’t know who or what was going on.
“Oh shit. I think Hendrix is supposed to be in town this weekend.”
“Who is Hendrix? And why didn’t you say anything, Daria? We could’ve gone somewhere else.”
“His flyer said he was going to be here on the thirteenth though,” she replied.
“Today is the thirteenth.” I rolled my eyes as I struggled to find a parking space.
“There goes one sis.” EJ pointed to the far right of her.
The space was small and would be tight for everybody, so I just said fuck it and parked next door at the mechanic shop. We exited the car after applying the finishing touches and gave each other a once over once we stepped out. As usual, we looked damned good and smelled even better.
“Lord Jesus please let there be a section available. I do not feel like fighting for a table tonight.”
“Daria, if you going in there to cut up, we can just go home now. I ain’t getting thrown out the club or maced again behind your ass,” I said stopping dead in my tracks. I was here for a good time not to beat a bitch down.
“Bestie please. Ain’t nobody on that mess tonight, alright. I promise.”
I didn’t believe a word she said but we were already here, and my body was craving the devils juice. I temporarily let it go and led the way.
We walked pass the line and of course I got the most derogatory slurs shouted at my back, but I was okay with that.
I enjoyed being the threat. I smiled when I realized the bouncer was checking me out as well and didn’t say a word against us skipping the line.
These thick thighs had his ass hypnotized.
“Wassup ladies. Y’all looking good,” he complimented.
“We appreciate it. So, what’s the total?” I questioned batting my eyes.
“Don’t even sweat it. I got y’all.”
“Again, it’s appreciated. We’ll see you later?” I asked flirtatiously. I knew boosting a nigga would make it better for future drop ins and I was securing us a way in indefinitely.
“You know it, Big Mama.”
I heard that one too many times and it always made me feel good. It was something about them acknowledging my curvaceous body but also applying a nickname that had me boosting my confidence up a notch.
“Thank you,” I said throwing a wink his way.
We walked inside the club and were surrounded by niggas from wall to wall. Seeing my Black people come together and just enjoy a night out would always bring a smile to my face. I supported everything Black, and this was a scene I loved. I felt more than comfortable around my people.
I carried that same smile in the direction of the bar while doing a little two step along the way. I was feeling myself before the alcohol had entered my body due to the tunes that were playing. I was content and ready for the nights event.
“Can I help you beautiful ladies with a drink?” the bartender inquired.
“Sure. Can we get two shots of 1800 and a shot of 1942 on the rocks?” EJ blurted out. We knew each other’s drink preference like the back of our hands.
“Coming right up.”
We turned around and scanned the room. There were women scamming niggas and also men chasing women. I liked the view. However, the VIP stage was empty. It seemed as if the person behind the chaos was nowhere in sight.
“Ladies, your drinks. Should I open a tab?” We nodded and grabbed our glass.
“Are there any available sections?” I asked as I brought my drink to my mouth.
“Just one. It’s not on the VIP stage but it’s in front of it and still considered to be a private booth.”
I looked toward my girls, and they nodded. “That’s fine. We’ll take it and can we just go ahead and get some singles as well? Oh, and buy a fifth of 1800 and a bottle of 42 please.”
The blue faces were handed over and our order was filled. We headed in the direction of our assigned area. The music was jumping and so was the ass on the strippers. Whoever was on stage was giving the people a show and I was excited to get a few personal dances of my own.
We took a seat and like birds, the men flocked. Where their attention was supposed to be given to the women in floss, they were trying to gather ours and I had to chuckle at their attempts.
That didn’t last long due to the screams that started randomly. I assumed the man of the hour finally showed. The crowd grew and the spotlight was on a set of men that maneuvered as if they had no care in the world.
“Which one is Hendrix?” I inquired.
“Him,” Daria said with lust in her eyes pointing to the man in the middle with the least amount of jewelry on.
He was a handsome man, but he had a certain je ne sais quoi about him that was appealing and distinctive. I watched him walk in our direction with our eyes locking briefly. I found myself smirking and reaching for another drink. I could tell this night was going to be an interesting one.