gonna have to take a hundred racks and get somebody to come bond be out, though.”
“Come on, cuzzo, what’s understood ain’t gotta be explained.”
$ $ $ $ $ $ $ $
Early Friday morning, Trouble’s mom had to work a little overtime so she was unable to take him back to Macy’s warehouse for orientation. So, therefore, he got out of bed, did his normal routine of 500 pushups and crunches before showering. As soon as he finished, he got dressed and headed to the bus stop. While standing at the bus stop, waiting for the bus to come, he couldn’t help but notice how bad his hood had changed. When he left the street, it was calm, laid back and low-key environment, but it had transformed into a well-known drug area. Damn, I pray I ain’t gotta go back to sellin’ dope out here like everybody else…If Slick wasn’t locked up, my back wouldn’t be against the wall. Damn, my nigga, locked up.
When he arrived at Macy’s warehouse and stepped inside, the front desk personnel woman greeted him and asked how she could assist him.
“Umm, ma’am, I filled out an application the other day, and I was told to come back Friday for orientation--”
“Okay, what’s your name, please?”
“Daunté Jones.”
“Okay, have a seat and someone will be to see you shortly.”
“Alright. Thanks ma’am.”
“You’re welcome.”
He waited patiently in the lobby with several others who applied and thirty minutes later he heard a deep voice shout out his name.
“Yes sir! Here I am.” He said, instantly getting up.
“Okay, follow me.” The man stated, escorting Trouble to his office.
When they made it to his office, he took a seat at his desk and began typing on his computer. Moments later he paused, looked at the screen, and then spoke to Trouble.
“If hired, when will you be ready to start?”
“I can start immediately, sir…Now, if I can.” They both laughed at his reply.
“Good answer. Well do you have transportation?”
“Yes sir?”
“Okay good…Oh, and one more thing I need to know before you go to orientation. Have you ever been convicted of a felony, if so, what were you charged with?”
He contemplated a second, saying to himself, Ain’t no way they did a background check that fast, I put the app in three days ago, and he replied, “No sir!”
“Well, it says here you were convicted of armed robbery on June 5, 2003…I’m sorry, Mr. Jones, but at the moment we’re only looking to hire individuals with clean backgrounds. If you get this removed--,” before the guy could finish speaking, Trouble stormed out of his office.
On his way to the bus stop, he said to himself, I’m startin’ to get fed up with tryna find a job, that shit ain’t me no way and living from check to check, struggling, when all the big time dope boys pushing hundred thousand dollar cars, living life stress free.
When the bus arrived, he got on continuing to think, Damn, if I do go back to sellin’ dope like everybody else, I’ma have to start from the bottom with nicks and dimes like we did in the 90s, that shit ain’t me…I should get up with my niggas…but ain’t no tellin’ what them niggas go goin’ on, probably tryna scheme on somebody right now! I can’t go out like that…why in the fuck the only nigga in my circle getting’ some real money had to get snatched up? Now shit seems like it’s set up for me to fail out