The East 8th Enders: Baby Mama Drama

Photo Cred: Google

For those just tuning in, I live on East 8th Street. And us East 8th Enders always have a story to tell. We are a neighborhood of people who sit out on our porches when the sun starts going down and risk being eaten by mosquitoes just to investigate why the police got called to talk to such-and-such.

We never concern ourselves with gentrification.

One thing you should know about the East 8th Enders is we love our dogs. Every family within a 1/2 mile radius has a dog. My family has 6. We had one then she got pregnant (by several dogs I was told) and had 5 puppies. 4 survived and we kept all of them. My dog Sofia was gonna be a parent. You take care of your kids, Sofia. Well, my nephew and his friend rescued a puppy a few weeks ago. We named him Apollo Creed. He suspiciously looks like Sofia’s white and tan puppies, who suspiciously treat him like a sibling. We think they all have the same daddy. And Sofia hates Apollo. She’s clearly bitter. That’s a story for another day. We have other neighborhood baby mama drama.

So because I don’t want Apollo to be bad as hell like our other dogs, I decided to take him for a walk to the park down the way, you know, socialize with the other dogs and everything. So we’re walking with our fancy little child leash harness thing and being uppity. There was a man in the street complaining to the neighbors when we left, but we decided to mind our own business because that’s how people keep from getting shot. We frolicked in the grass at the park then came on home.

Well, on the way home that man had escalated. He wasn’t talking to my neighbors anymore. He was at the house on the next block yelling and pacing. Here is the conversation Apollo and I heard (language warning):

“Naw, naw. Bring yo ho’ ass out hea. God got me. I’m gone win this battle! I know I got this mothaf*cka because I talked to God at the park tuhday! Tell him to bring his b*tch ass out hea. Always got these trap n*ggas hangin around hea when I go to work. I’m tired of this sh*t! COME OUTSIDE. Less settle dis! You don’t even be takin’ care of yo 6 chilren. Yo mama be havin’ dem. Don’t even comb dey hair. How you gone take care of my child? Bring yo ass out hea!”

Apollo and I have to pass by this man to get home. When I tell you we looked STRAIGHT AHEAD. I didn’t know if he had a weapon on him. And listen, I have been to the ER 5 times in the last month for all kinds of reasons. I wasn’t going back last night because I didn’t keep it moving. But now there is a scene forming on our block so Apollo and I have to follow in the steps of the neighborhood elders- we sat on the porch.

Now Apollo is ready to go in. He’s still pretty young and doesn’t like the humidity. I understand. I was sweating like a Black person at Starbucks (or Dollar General or IHOP or….) and it was 8 pm. But that pup needs to learn early that we sit on the porch when there is a scene in progress. And a scene it was indeed. All of a sudden, Port Arthur PD came rolling around the corner. Who called the cops? The cop in the passenger seat waved at me when he got out. I waved back automatically, cuz Southern hospitality, but I was still taken aback. For some reason I thought I was invisible, sitting there in neon workout clothes. My invisibility issue is also another story.

The officers stroll over to my neighbors, who try to explain the situation. Meanwhile, one of the boys from the 8th Street Bike Gang comes to sit on the porch with me. This is what I learned- that lady really does have them trap dudes in and out of the house when her man gone. She be prostituting. He bought groceries for her and her sisters, but nobody wanted him to come in. Cuz trap dudes. And something about her sleeping with another lady in the neighborhood too. And somebody tried to hit him with a pipe (why did they have a loose pipe laying around?).

By this point the mosquitoes overcame me. I had to go in. I tell Twin to let me know what happens later. Apparently it ended peacefully because I ain’t seen or heard anything today. Maybe because it’s so hot. Or maybe because it’s still early. We still have plenty of daylight to go.

The saga of the East 8th Enders continues…..

Ashely "Flashe" Gordon

Written by

I'm awkward. Super awkward. So awkward that now people believe I'm cool. Cool. Snapchat: FindFlasheG

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