Notty was fiending for a big day of crack smoking and talked his girlfriend, Debbie to drive him to a buy at 5:45 P.M. one day last week, a mile east of Freddie Gray Country.
Notty rolled up with his girl at the wheel, gets out, walks up to his drug dealer, a black dude with wire-frame glasses, ski cap, jeans and black hoody and hands him a $100 dollar knot roll of cash and takes 10 baggies of ready rock—an old style deal, old school, cash for dope, like way back in the old-ass day.
Then, as he gets back into the car, the dealer realizes that Notty gave him a roll of 20 $1’s wrapped in a $20 bill. The dealer yells at him, “Hey, muthafucka, yo shekelin’ me! [1]
As Notty’s dumb bitch sat dumbfounded at the wheel of the somehow inexplicably stationary car, the dealer ran for the car, which brought Notty back to his patriarchal senses and he shouted, “Drive, bitch!”
As the little, silver, 2010 Scion with the sun roof sped off, the universe shook as that fleet-footed dealer dove onto the roof of the car, which was half open, because Notty had been looking so forward to smoking his first rock while driving back out of town that he had opened the sun roof in anticipation, resulting in a long, brown arm, pulling out of its black hoody sleeve reaching alien-like down towards the steering wheel.
Little Debbie screamed and hit the gas but the brown hand came ever closer to the wheel and Notty commanded, as he slapped at the reaching hand, “Bitch, you got a nigga on da roof, swerve!”
Swerve she dutifully did as she screamed, the dealer yelled, “Muthafucka,” and Notty yelled, “Drive bitch” as Nike-shod feet flew first down by the driver’s side window, then over the passenger’s side window—but dude clung on, until Notty yelled, while she was doing about 40 MPH, “Stop bitch!”
Stop she did, but the clinging “nigga on da roof” kept going and Little Debbie peeled rubber the wrong way up Endsor to North Avenue and made a hard left, as Notty cheered in his cackling rasp and scrambled frantically for his pipe…
Ebonic Note
Shekelin’, I shit you not, is now an ebonic term for short-changing. After consulting with T. Spoone Slickens, Inquire, Justin W.R. Justice and Old-Ass Johnson, through my Grey Flesh Palenteer, I am of the opinion that this word has found its way into the urban lexicon via the Hotep movement or Black Muslims.
Alienation Nation: Surviving Cultural Free Fall
The ADL has just launched two nation-wide research studies, commissioned six books, two educational films, and is consulting with ten thousand black community leaders to nip this disgraceful and dehumanizing trend in the bud.
Thank you for your timely warning. Early diagnosis is the best hope for remediation.
Great story. Sometimes a bitch just can’t get a clue.
Oy! Also, vey!