Charge It To The Game Read Online Free PDF

Hope was only able to tell me that Momma was doing fed time for being a mule, and that she was locked up somewhere in West Virginia.
    For the fir st time since my mother had left me, I didn‘t feel the urgency or the desire to go searching for her. I felt some relief that she was still alive. However, somewhere along my travels, I had grown to despise her. I finally accepted what Aunt Hope and Smoke unfortunately wouldn‘t let me forget – she had abandoned her responsibility to me and because of that, I had already done hard core street time. Fed time was easy street. She’s doing better than me . I reasoned.
    By the time I was seventeen, I was ready to find another way to survive. I got bored with the danger, trite of the strange dicks and fed up with the sorry stories that came along with the empty sex. I did everything to my Johns that their wives or women wouldn‘t, I fucked, sucked and unwillingly became an unqualified therapist.
    Finally, I walked away from that hustle and went from hoeing myself for $50 a night to making $5,000 a day boosting. I graduated at the top of my class and without looking back, rose to the top -- catering to the big ballers, pimps and drug dealers. I
CHA-CHING
    stole and sold everything from televisions and diamonds to fur coats. While shopping in Saks one day, I met Pam -- my right hand chick who introduced me to my first connect in the credit card game. After that, it was a wrap.

Chapter 5
November 2003
    I had lived in practically every borough in New York City, and in every imaginable place. Now, home was a spacious three bedroom, two bath penthouse on the 22 nd floor at one of the most prestigious addresses in Manhattan: 100 East 86 th Street. Eve, Star Jones, Ruby Dee and Ossie Davis were my neighbors. Things had changed.
    I had fallen asleep on the living room sofa. The last thing I remembered, I was watching Conan O‘Brien. Madison, the six month old Pit Bull that I had brought as a gift for myself was spread out on the off white carpet right next to me.
    ―Good morning, Madison,‖ I said in a hoarse and dry voice. ―Good morning,‖ I repeated. Madison popped her head up and playfully rubbed it on my legs. ―How‘s Mommy‘s girl today? Huh?‖
    After I played with Madison, I got up and walked toward the floor to ceiling windows which revealed a breathtaking view of Central Park. I would often find myself looking out of that window for hours. The view always calmed my spirit whenever I got caught up in the drama that the streets would often pull me into.
Living so high up made me feel invincible—like I was protected and shielded from the rest of the world.
    I don’t feel like going anywhere today. I thought as I walked toward my bedroom. When I entered my room, my eyes had instantly landed on my off-white chaise. The sight immediately annoyed me -- it was overflowing with clothes that needed to be dry cleaned. I made a mental note to call Rosa, my housekeeper. She had asked for three days off. One day had passed and already things were totally out of order. I hated it, but not enough to trust anyone else to clean my home. Rosa would just have to cut short her time off.
    My bedroom was my sanctity. It was lavishly decorated in warm earth tones. Candles in every size and scent were scattered around the room. The bed was a custom made king size four-poster bed imported from Italy. My favorite pastime was lying next to the gas fireplace listening to music.
* * *
    It was 11:38. The morning was just about gone and I needed to meet with Pam and Black. I hit the speaker button and began dialing Pam.
    The call went straight into voicemail. ―Unh Unh Unh… my minutes. Yo, if you see yourself calling me over and over…and I‘m not picking up, that‘s because you‘re not worth my minutes. Take it personal!‖
    ―Pam, it‘s me...Storm. I called your ass twice last night and you never called me back. You don‘t want me to take it personal, I know. Call me back.‖
    Then I