Food Stamp Divas

Chapter 1

We all have that one friend who we can't really trust. Secretly, they're jealous and envious of us. I refer to them as a fri-nemy. Which one of Serena's friends is a backstabbing, judgmental hussy? Will her trifling ways cause her to catch a beat down?

Serena

Chapter One

I know I have no rights to that woman's husband. But, the bitch pissed me off so I'm going to keep fucking him. If she hadn't tried me in the club, I might have considered leaving Jeff alone. I was getting tired of him never having time for me anyway. Since she took it there, I'm going to turn into THAT BITCH. I'll be the reason her husband never have any money to pay the bills or to buy her one fucking crumb. A whore better think twice before she starts playing games with me. I am not the one.

Now I'm hotter than fish grease and waiting for Jeff to get here to cool me down. He has some explaining to do, too. He told me he and his wife were separated. The way she was carrying on, you would think they were joined at the hip. I'm still huffing about the way she disrespected me at the club not too long ago. That bitch doesn't know who she's messing with. She better be glad I'm not the person that I used to be or else I would have snatched off her wig and beat her ass with it- just on principality. I still can't get over how she tried me...

I'm on the dance floor minding my own business, grinding all up on a fine ass nigga when this bitch bumps into me. I understand that the dance floor gets crowded sometime, but this night isn't one of them. I figure the chick is drunk so I brush it off and keep dancing.

How 'bout this bitch bumps me again. This time, I know she's doing it on purpose. So I stop dancing and look her dead in the face.

"You better check yourself," I say.

She has the nerve to get an attitude with me. "What the fuck you gonna do, if I don't check myself, bitch?" she screams, getting all in my face.

"I'm not even trying to fight you 'cause I look too cute tonight," I say. I show her the palm, ie. "talk to the motherfucking hand."

"Bitch, ain't nothing cute about your ugly ass. I know you the ho that's been fucking my husband." Her index finger is wagging a mile a minute as her lips move. I'll be damned if my mouth didn't drop wide open. "Close ya mouth slut. I smell ya breath," she insults.

I decide to ignore that and ask, "Who is your husband?"

"Jeff Peacock. Yeah, bitch. That is my man. And I heard it through the grapevine that you the trifling hoe he's been fucking."

I look her up and down. This ghetto ass bitch looks like a bulldog by the face. Jeff married that? What the hell was he thinking? To top it off, she's a real BMW: body made wrong.

"Well, I don't know who you got your information from, but whoever told you that lied. I don't know anyone named Jeff," I lie.

Another woman approaches and stands next to the loud bitch. She's thin as hell with some big eyes that look like they're popping out of their sockets.

"That's her. She is the one I saw with Jeff at Ruby Tuesdays," she says, pointing at me.

"I thought you said you don't know Jeff?"

"I don't. She must have me confused with someone else. Do I look like I'd be caught dead at Ruby Tuesdays?" I ask in "Diva" fashion, as if I'm too classy for such a place.

They both eye me up and down and twist their lips.

"You ain't all that," the fish-eyed woman says. She gives me another once over. "Tangela, I might be wrong," she tells her friend. "The woman I saw was thinner."