THUNDA - Under New Management Ch. 01

"You don't wanna make no money?"

"You're tripping."

"Fuck bitch, you act like it's a fucking strip club or something; it's an honest living Rashida."

"They ain't gonna let me work at no goddam barbershop and even if they do, I'm gonna be beating niggas off every day and shit. You trying to get me fucked up daddy."

"I'm trying to get you paid."

"Ain't happening." Rashida was resolute.

"Bet money." I offered my hand daring her to engage.

"Hey it's your money fool." We mutually snapped sealing the deal while I glanced at the guys loitering at the front of the barbershop. There was a huge "HELP WANTED" sign taped in the panel window.

She hung back scrolling through her phone as I shoved my hands in my pockets trudging off down the street to the barber shop. I got closer noticing a sparse line of patrons, half of them transient looking waiting outside in a single file line.

There was another smaller handwritten note on the glass door of the barbershop regarding the aforementioned charity haircuts. I got more than my fair share of disparaging looks from the potential customers as I walked to the head of the line.

It was probably due to my apparel of wrinkled beige tee, pajama pants and sockless canvas sneakers.

"Hey man there's a line and it starts back there!" Some pudgy looking dude with a bald spot grunted.

"Yeah who the fuck you supposed to be nigga?" A shaky looking thug added ready for a donnybrook.

"An applicant." I pointed towards the large cardboard sign in the panel window. A few of the guys looked at the "HELP WANTED" sign then turned back towards me almost in synch.

"BULLSHIT!" Jeers and assorted disgruntled peer commentary bombarded me as I took stock of my chances.

"Man you ain't even got no fucking clippers!" Another dude yelled.

"THEY'RE INSIDE, EXCUSE ME!!" I ripped the band-aid off running inside leaving the dissidents in my wake. Someone grabbed at my shirt nearly tearing it before I got inside turning around facing the door breathing hard. Seconds later I realized it was deathly silent. I slowly turned around.

Several barbers were glaring at me along with their customers in varying states of service. There were two empty chairs, one at the end of the corridor while the one I'd eyed was right in front of the big panel window facing the street. This one rather large fellow built like a linebacker with a braided goatee didn't look pleased.

"Hey bruh, we service everybody; you didn't have to cut the line."

"Oh well I..."

"HIT THE END OF THE LINE; BETTER YET, KICK ROCKS!!!" Another barber yelled in what he thought was righteous indignation as I tried to get a moment.

"I CAME FOR THE JOB!!" I screamed over their protestations.

"What?"

"Yeah you gotta sign on the window for a barber; so that's why I'm here sirs." I was humble. Once again I found more mean mugging while a few of the patrons snickered thinking I was full of shit.

"Man you ain't even got no clippers; how you gonna cut some hair?" The head barber barked in my face.

"I'm gonna cut hair with this." I raised my phone making the guys laugh and jeer even more.

"Hey nigga, two blocks over they got a rehab center, free of charge."

"I want the main chair right here." I pointed at the barber chair adjacent to their panel window. Things suddenly got deathly quiet.

"You can't have that chair."

"Why not?"

"BECAUSE IT'S MINE!!" Some guy with a baritone voice interjected sitting a few chairs over facing away from me reading the paper. This guy stood up revealing that he was a veritable man mountain chock full of muscle with a damn near peaked bald head. His barber's smock fit tight across his barrel chest as he glared at me. Every body inside looked between me and him expecting something.

"Oh uh, nice to make your acquaintance, uh?"

"BIG EDDY!!"

"Yeah, as I was saying before; I'd like the use of your chair right here. Just wanna borrow it for an audition, okay?" I took a step or two backward as he approached looking me over.

"You ain't got nothing but a motherfucking phone and you talking about borrowing my chair. Mind you, I had to wait my turn and earned that chair fair and square over all the men in here. Is that what you're asking me to do?"

"Yes sir, Mr. Eddy." He had this big bully grimace on his face at my answer. I flinched when he turned about looking at his peers. There were a few patrons sitting there waiting for service as he addressed everyone.

"ANYBODY HERE GONNA LET THIS FOOL CUT THEY HAIR?!!"

Once again there was deathly silence in the barber shop as he turned back to me jacked up arms spread out.

"You heard that, right shorty?"

"No uh, you don't understand; I'm getting my hair cut Mr. Big Eddy." The shop burst into uproarious laughter. It sounded like a Dave Chapelle concert inside.

"MAN YOU GONNA CUT YOUR OWN FUCKING HAIR TO GET A JOB HERE?!!"

"No, she is Mr. Big Eddy." I opened the door on cue making the little bell ring.

Rashida Sikes walked into the barber shop.

Time stopped as everyone took in the sight of those big stallion legs of hers. It was plain as the nose on your face that her ass was so big, you could see it from the front, pronounced hip dips included. Her gaze travelled the room stopping on me for a few seconds. Rashida unslung her satchel bag unceremoniously hanging it around my neck like a rapper's gold chain before turning to the first barber.

"You mind if I borrow some clippers?"

"Not at all." Goatee guy was visibly smitten while Big Eddy snatched off the sheet covering his chair. The big goof even plugged the cord into the wall socket while she stood there exuding hella attitude, baby oil glistened legs and all.

"You'd better be good." I whispered in her ear simultaneously slapping her huge butt making it jiggle a little for onlookers and their phones.

"Sit your ass down." Strains of Marvin Gaye's "Inner City Blues" wafted through the barber shop as Rashida fired up the clippers. I motioned for her to bend over so that I could give one more order.

"What?"

"Give them all of it Thunda; everything." Rashida responded with a big toothy grin knowing I wanted her to stunt. She did her little runway walk around the chair doing her patented trick making one cheek bulge, then the other before pivoting with both halves exposed facing the window.

I've got to be honest when I say that Rashida Sikes gave me one of the best haircuts I'd ever had fairly quickly. The whole time she purposely made a show of sauntering around the barber chair allowing everyone to get a real good look at those sixty plus inches of online fame.

Somehow by the time she finished, there was an extended line outside with a wealth of customers actually pressed against the window enjoying the show. Rashida struck a pose hand on wide hip peering over her shoulder at the line of waiting customers, monster cheeks bulging.

"Who's next?"

There was a near stampede of guys bum rushing the barber chair.

Needless to say, Rashida Sikes found herself gainfully employed while I got a free haircut and lunch with a doggy bag to go. She was still cutting hair when I copped an Uber home for more drama free gaming. I wasn't finished working on her passive income yet.

But her hands were full and her skintight back pockets stuffed with cash and tips.

...TO BE CONTINUED.