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Chapter 1.
My first experience with a
very dirty Black chick.
Back in 1977 while at Jones County Junior College, was when I was basically first introduced to how conniving a Black woman, or Black women could be. I had worked every every single solitary day we had off from school that summer In the oil field. So when school started, I was not broke at all compared to a lot of the other Black football players on the team that I was around every day.
So for an eighteen year old, off from home in a somewhat hostile environment, and trying to make new friends, I often ended up spending money on several occasions for others, when I shouldn’t have spent a penny.
Well I surely didn’t have a girlfriend, and I don’t remember spending anything on any girls either. And during that time as far as I knew, I had never run across a prostitute in my life.
Plus looking back at this particular junior college I was going to in South Mississippi, there were several pretty Black girls, and every last one of the motherfuckers were stuck up. Not to mention very arrogant attitudes. But pretty Black girls at that particular school, were far below 10%. Plenty of Black girls. Just not too many good looking ones. Just keeping it real.
But the one and only Black girl on the football cheerleader squad, was a half ass high yellar, and pretty damn good looking, or a pretty motherfucker. I had no idea that she sold pussy, but supposedly she did. Well her boyfriend was a pretty popular wide receiver. And one night after a game, he told me that his this girlfriend of his was gonna let me fuck her, after he fucked her in the motel. So the three of us got in his car and headed to a very cheap motel. I gave her $100.00. She didn’t say anything. Just took the money. We got to the motel, and they went inside and fucked, until I fell asleep, and woke up still in the car. Just sitting there waiting.
Then finally he came out. She was still in the motel. He told me she had changed her a mind, and that she wouldn’t do it. It was about 5 o’clock in the morning at that time. So I asked “How about my money? I want my money back.” He said you’ll have to take that up with her. Mad enough to kill a motherfucker, I just sit there simmering.
She finally came out the room. Got in the car and didn’t say a word. Plus it was such a volatile situation, that I didn’t say a word either. We left the motel. They dropped me at the dorm. And as far as I remember, neither one of them said a word. It was the weekend, so room check wasn’t an issue. She, nor he didn’t offer my money back, so I was fucked. Yep. Fucked without even seeing the pussy. All I could do was go to my dorm room and cry myself to sleep. I was in the dorm all day that Sunday. I remember sharing with a few people what had happened. Word apparently got around about what had happened to me. And everybody I talked to, as I remember, thought it was a damn shame. I don’t remember hearing any of that ghetto logic, “Well that’s your fault man.” You know, the kind of motherfuckers that always take the side of bitches.
But luckily the next day I was in the cafeteria eating when that conniving bitch brought me about $75 and laid it on the table and walked away. I don’t remember saying anything back to her. But I was just glad to have gotten something back. It could’ve been much worse and not gotten anything back. But that was my first time ever dealing with a prostitute. Plus $75 back then was like about $300 today. But so much for 1977. My biggest concern back then was not to get kicked out of school for getting in a fight. So that’s the main reason I didn’t say, or do too much. But it could have been much worse.
Plus also as I think back, with her being a football cheerleader, she very possibly had pressure on her side to come clean, and avoid a real scandal. Which I’m certain something like that had to play a role. Because Black women don’t ever give any money back, unless they’re really afraid of some bad shit. Even though you never can tell about a Mississippi bitch such as that. And no, I wasn’t trucking during this time. This story took place twelve years before I started trucking. But between 1977 and 1989 I noticed a lot of similarities such as this whenever dealing with Black women. I was my introduction to bitches years. And as a lot of no good ass motherfuckers use to ask every time I would share how slick Black women would try to be, the first thing out their mouth would be, “I don’t know what kind of Black women you’ve been hanging around.” And that was the kind of cover the defenders of Black women always used, until Facebook and YouTube videos blew the cover off this type behavior with Black women, which is rampant all over the US till this day. So the defenders of these type motherfuckers don’t have a leg to stand on now days, but the white cape, or Hotep motherfuckers will still try.
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