Picture Me Ballin' (Mallory)

A bi**h definitely don't feel like being at work today. Went out last night with my girl, Jasmine. First of all, why the hell do I even go out on Sunday nights anymore? You would think I know better than to be out til 1 or 2 am knowing that I have to get up at 7 to get to work across town, in traffic, at 8:30...

Sorry, Bank of America...It was too many REAL ballin' ass ni**@s out last night and a chick like me definitely ain't gonna miss the chance to find me a full-time sponsor to take care of my serious needs.

So mind you, we down in Atlantic Station doing our "pseudo-girlfriend" thing. We holding hands and what not, hugging real close and giving each other little kisses. Neither one of us is gay or anything, but when you a dancer (as we both are), you come to understand just how beautiful a woman's body really is. Now she works at another club, and actually turned me on to dancing at the club I'm at now.

I think there is a big difference between a stripper and an exotic dancer, but I will sum it up in one sentence...

Strippers get naked cause they ain't sure of other ways to get paid. An exotic dancer uses stripping as a side hustle to add on to the paper she already making.

Dancing was an opportunity to come up for me. I make good enough at the bank, but a bi**h like me got immaculate tastes and being a bookkeeper don't cut it. So believe me, when I'm on stage, shaking these succulent D-cups in the face of some athlete or real estate developer, I'm trying to get money for the long haul to save on top of what I already got. These broke hoes can keep the Louie bags and the Prada pumps. That's nothing. When Magic City start offering they girls a 401K plan, then holla at me.

So back to the story...

We at Twist eating with a very successful NFL player and 2 of his boys (no names. What kinda name dropping chick I look like) and we all just having a blast eating, drinking, and laughing at the thirsty ducks flocking all around us looking for a handout as we live it up. You know one bi**h had the nerve to stop by our table and ask for an autograph? Had you heard his response, you would've died laughing. But what made it more funny as that his boy quacked at that hoe like a duck!!! This chick looked hella sideways when we all busted out laughing.

So after all this eating and drinking, we all a lil tipsy, but I swear if my mind was just as clear as day, I looked back and Vick was just as clearly looking me directly in my eye. That fine, dark ni**@ was looking something good too. I know I love me some Bishop but Vick can toss all kinda touchdowns on this ass.

I fu**ed him something horrible with my eyes. Had he known what I was really thinking, he would've gotten up from his table, rolled to the bathroom, and met ya girl in the stall. He could've easily dropped the bathroom attendant a 100 to put an out of order sign on the door for a few minutes while I "welcomed" Atlanta's favorite QB back home.

Lucky for him, I'm a good girl. Don't put me in the groupie category because a b**ch wanna make a come up. Unlike these simple hoes, I got a plan that don't always involve fu**ing.
Hadn't heard from my man since Friday. I know he said he was gonna play ball with his boys and do some work around the house.

Ooooo...I can't stand to think of him being at home with HER when he should be with me. Then I wouldn't have to hustle. Take care of his mind, body, and soul. Hadn't seen him today though so he may be out the office. Ain't gonna stress it thought. Tomorrow is Tuesday, and if you know like I know, he'll be ready.

F**k, I need to call Gavin and tell him about last night. He could probably use a good laugh. Now, that's my baby. Love him to death...