Housewives of the Drug Game

Trina

If you are going to put your time and effort into something or someone make sure it is worth it. Time is too expensive to waste. –Unknown

Sunday, June 24

"This is a prepaid collect call from 'Cash' at York County Jail. To accept the charges press 1. To decline charges press 2."
It took everything in me not to press 2 and hang up that damn phone but instead like the good housewife that I am I simply pressed 1 and waited for Cash's other bitch to connect us.

"What's up, Ma?" I swear the voice of this man can make me drop my panties and just spread eagle in any location at any time. Carson "Cash" Johnson is known in the hood, for being Killa's right hand man and best friend. And graciously enough I snagged him for myself. My man is the epitome of GORGEOUS. I'm talking light skin, curly black hair, tattoos, medium built, nice broad face, with some pink juicy lips, dark brown eyes that can make any sisters' panties fall to the floor. A lot of sisters' panties done fell to the floor for him. My daughter has about 10 other siblings. They damn sure didn't come out of my vajayjay, so go figure.
"Hey. I got just one question, maybe two but what the fuck you doing out in Newport News?" I asked, once I snapped myself out of my thoughts.
"Making money, to support my family. Next question." This arrogant piece of shit. I swear I just want to pick up my four inch heels (yes my heels are short. I am not busting my ass trying to look cute) and just bash him in his damn eyes maybe then he'll see what he's about to lose. Stupid thing about me is no matter what happens or what goes down I will still be willing to take him back within a heartbeat. He's my heart. I'll honestly be lost without him. So all the shit he does would fly out the window as soon as he's in my presence. He would automatically be forgiven. I wish my daughter will never turn out to be the way I vowed I would never be. But the reality of it is, who I vowed never to become, is who I became.
"What you want me to tell your daughter when she gets backs and her daddy not here waiting for her?" My daughter, Kenya, was the best thing that came out of this crazy ass thing I call my relationship. She loves her father. And you could see that Cash loves hers by the way his eyes light up whenever she's around. Or the way his face curves into a smile when he buys her the things she begs for. You feel the love between them whenever they're together. But she witnesses me crying my eyes out because I never know where her father is. I want my daughter to know her father but I also want to set the example that my parents didn't set for me. The perfect family, with both mommy and daddy. But Cash will never be that family man I so wish for him to be.
"Man, you act like this is all new to you. I've been doing this since before we got together. Damn son, the shit I do is what attracted you to me. But I ain't getting into that. I just called to let you know that those greedy dudes coming to the house to try to eat us out. So I need you to clean the fridge and take whatever was in there to Michelle's and tell her to enjoy. Oh and go to Killa's house and tell Kiyrah she need to do that thing. Killa said she would already know what it is." My husband and Killa were paranoid with everything that they do. This kingpin lifestyle got him like that. In translation the cops should have a warrant to search my house and he wants me to get the weed and cocaine out. And take it to one of his trap houses. Where that shit should've been in the first god damn place. But I don't say much .I could argue about the stupid decision Cahs makes until my face turn an emerald green and he would still continue to do it. People think being the wife in the drug game is easy. Yeah okay. This could be a full time job and then some.
"What you mean go to Killa's house? Why he don't he take his ass there himself?" These dudes must think I'm the town's messenger.
"Man do you listen when I talk? I told yo' ass a week ago he on LD. Just do it and stop asking questions."
"That's all you called for?"
"No but since you bitching then yeah."
"Bitching?!"
"Yes, bitching! B-I-T-C-H-ing!" This dumb motherfucker!
"I wouldn't be bitching if I didn't have to answer calls like this everyday! I wouldn't be bitching if you were home with your family and not out in the streets like a fucking hoodlum. I –"
"Hoodlum?"
"Yes a fucking hoodlum!
"Remember this hoodlum got you sitting pretty in that fancy ass house out in Upperville! This hoodlum got you that 32 carat diamond ring on your god damn finger! This mother fucking hoodlum is the same nigga that paid for your cars that magically disappear! Who gets robbed by the same person more than five times? I look like booboo the fool to you? So you want to sit there and act like you all holier than thou when this fucking hoodlum set you straight! Remember that! You don't work, I do! You don't got a degree, I do! So ask yourself who's the mother fucking hoodlum in this relationship cause all fingers point to Trina Mary Johnson!
"You have one minute left." The automated voice chimed in. Next thing I know I heard the beep on my cell phone indicating that the call has been ended. This motherfucker hung up on me! I looked at my phone in disbelief and chucked it across the room. It hit the wall then fell to floor. I just rolled my eyes cause I know when I go pick that shit back up I will be even more pissed. I sat on the bed for a few more minutes before getting down on the floor and opening up the floorboards and retrieved everything this husband of mine told me to get. Another day another dollar. Right? Wrong! Another day, another tear that falls from my eyes from dealing with this bullshit! The life of the wife in the drug game!