Rachia (excerpt from "Trapped" Chapter Six)

           The problem with looking good doesn’t just start or end with men—women really bare their claws when they see me. Jealous women are a real pain in the butt and for what?   I mean, I have actually been hated just because of my looks.  Everywhere I go, I have picked up on women who hate; women I don’t even know.  When they see me, they give me dirty looks and Lord help me, if I’m with a good-looking man.  Women have tried to fight me when they see me with a good-looking man on my arm.  Go figure!  If the men wanted them, they would have been easy pickings.  I remember going into the bathroom at a club one night and this chick had the nerve to approach me while I was coming out of the stall.

            “Oh, so you think you’re all that, huh?” she said.

            “What?”

            “Yeah, I know your type.  You come up in here trying to make sure all the men got their eyes on you.”

            “B…, you better get out of my face.  I can’t help it if you can’t get a man.  It’s probably that attitude on top of your squat butt and pickled face.”

I knew she was mad enough to fight, but then so was I.  I was tired of women trying to put me down because of the way they looked.  I stared at her for a few moments and she stared back.  I mean, she was short, fat, nappy-headed, and had really bad skin.  I waited for her to do something dumb so I could punch her, but just as I thought we’d have to throw-down, one of my girl-friends came in, assessed the situation and just stood there, looking at this chick like she was from outer space or something.

            “You all right?” she asked.

            “Yeah, this little hood-rat tried to start something, but I’ll finish it.”

            The girl looked at my friend who was just as tall as I was and decided this was not going to be a fight she could win.  She sniffed her nose at us and went back out the door.  My friend fell out laughing.

            “Girl, you sure know how to pick ‘em.  What was her problem?”

            “I don’t know.  I didn’t like her looks and she couldn’t stand mine.  You know how it is.”

            “Yeah, I know,” she said, going on into the stall.  “I know.”

            After we had concluded our business, we went back to our dates and enjoyed the rest of the night, but I was careful not to go back to the bathroom alone.