Dorinda
2005
Maia's cries pierced through the air, echoing louder and louder as Dorinda desperately tried to soothe her on the bench. Finally, the local transportation arrived but brought no relief, as the child's wails continued throughout the entire journey. Doe's heart ached as she walked the miles and a half to the store since the bus didn't take her all the way. She prayed the distance would lull Maia to sleep, but the cries persisted. It was a painful reminder of the baby's hunger, driving Doe to rush to the baby aisle in search of the only milk Maia could have, knowing that breast milk was no longer an option since her boobs seemed to be completely dry.
Dorinda: $42 That's fucking ridiculous; I can't afford this shit.
Doe muttered under her breath before carefully returning the milk to its place on the shelf. However, her baby's persistent cries made her realize that she needed to find an alternative solution. Acting swiftly, the determined teenager grabbed two large cans of formula and two packs of three-pack bottles. With caution, Dorinda opened a can and the first set of bottles, ensuring she remained vigilant of her surroundings as she prepared each bottle with powdered formula. She repeated the process with the second set, always keeping an eye out to avoid arousing suspicion from any employees. Once all the bottles were ready, she placed them discreetly in Maia bag and tidied up the shelf. Doe made her way to the bathroom, where she filled one of the bottles with water from the sink, shook it, and handed it to her crying baby girl. Seeking solace, Dorinda sat in the stall, grateful that her baby, who had been wailing relentlessly for the past three hours, finally fell silent. After approximately 15 minutes, Mai's eyelids grew heavy, and she drifted off to sleep. Exhausted herself, Dorinda eventually succumbed to slumber, only to be abruptly awakened by a forceful knock on the stall door. Startled, she quickly gathered her belongings, clutching her bag tightly, and shouted:
Dorinda: I'll be out in a second!
She stepped out of the bathroom only to come face-to-face with the store's security guard and manager, sending shockwaves through her body.
Security: Good Afternoon, young lady, we just received a complaint from another customer claiming that they saw you in aisle 13 making a milk bottle.
Dorinda: So, don't you see me with my daughter?
Security: Well, yes, but
Dorinda: So what's the problem?
Security: The customer said she saw that you were opening packs of formula.
Dorinda: Really? Well, you picked the wrong person. I came in here looking for a specific baby food, but this store doesn't carry the brand, so I came to the bathroom to change my daughter and put her to sleep before I left.
Security: Is that so?
Dorinda: Yes, sir, it is.
Security: Alright, Miss, can you step to the side for me?
Dorinda stepped to the side as the security guard went inside to check around the stall, then came back out.
Security: Alright, Miss, can you please come with us? We're just going to get some of your information and check your bag in the front office.
Dorinda: My information? And check my bag for what?
Security: Because there's suspected theft.
Dorinda: Suspected theft?
Security: Yes, ma'am.
Dorinda: You ain't got any proof that I did anything. If you're so fucking concerned, get some fucking cameras in this bitch; otherwise, get out of my way so I can bring my baby home!
Security: Miss, we need you to come up front with us.
The guard began to touch Dorinda, but she moved away.
Dorinda: If you touch me, especially my baby, I swear I will scream rape.
The security guard backed up, and Doe looked at him.
Dorinda: I can walk, and I'll go with you, but don't touch me any more, man.
Manager: Come on, Mami.
Dorinda: Don't touch me, either, you Spanish bitch. Running this beat-down store that hasn't changed since I was a fucking baby.
Dorinda walked to the front, mad as hell. If she found out who that bitch who snitched was, she was going to have a field day beating his or her ass. As they reached the front, they ushered Doe into a room and commanded her to take a seat. They bombarded her with simple questions like her name, age, and purpose for being there, before demanding her bag. Reluctantly, she handed it over, fearing that refusal would only escalate the already tense situation. Once they opened it, they pulled out five baby bottles, and the security guard looked at Dorinda.
Security: What's this?
Dorinda: My daughter bottles. Is that a problem?
Security: Where'd you get them from?
Dorinda: My baby daddy bought them; how the hell should I know?
Manager: Those look like the bottles from aisle 13.
Dorinda: I'm sure you're not the only store in Detroit that sells those bottles. Now, can you let the security man do his job so I can catch my bus?
He looked through the rest of the bag and questioned Dorinda again.
Security: What's your business here today, Miss?
Dorinda: Didn't I tell you twice before that I came here to get a specific baby food that my daughter eats, but y'all don't have it?
Security: And what food is that?
Dorinda: Yams and Macaroni and Cheese—it looks and tastes nasty as hell, but my baby girl loves it.
Security: Where's the child's father?
Dorinda: He's a Marine stationed in Iraq or one of those hot ass places; he left ten weeks after I gave birth, and now he doesn't even call.
Security: Oh.
Dorinda: Yeah, more questions. You wanna know when he nutted in me too, or what?
The security guard got quiet and looked at the manager.
Security: We have no proof that you took anything, just word of mouth, so we're going to let you go, but if we catch you the next time, we will call the police.
He placed the bottles back in the bag, zipping it up.
Manager: No, no! These bottles are from aisle 13!
Security: We have no proof, Christina! Okay, Miss, here's your bag, and you have a good day.
Dorinda: I sure will!
Manager: And what about the two cases of formula?
Dorinda snatched her bag and hurried out of the store. As she reached the sidewalk and spotted the bus approaching, she glanced in both directions before stepping onto the street. Suddenly, a speeding car came out of nowhere. Just in the nick of time, the driver slammed on the brakes and blared the horn.
Dorinda: You know you saw me, bitch! Slow the fuck down, because if you hit my baby, it would've been a major fucking problem.
The driver put his middle finger up, and Doe reciprocated before reaching the curb and catching the bus just in time. She paid her fare, found a seat, and then her cellphone (that she thought was out of minutes) started ringing. She pulled it out and answered the call.
Dorinda Hello?
Stranger: Hi, is this Dorinda?
Dorinda: Who's this?
Stranger: This is Mikey the owner of 'Hard Body's' strip club over on 8 Mile.
Dorinda: Oh, hey Mikey, what's up?
Mikey: I spoke to Stephanie; she gave me your number; she said you were fine and needed a job; I'm looking for a new dancer, and I want to hire you.
Dorinda: Oh, shit, are you for real?
Mikey: Yeah, look, so I need you here in about 3 hours. You need to fill out some paperwork, and hopefully we can get your training started. So you can be out by the end of the week. Does that sound good?
Dorinda: Um, tonight?
Doe looked down at her daughter, who was sleeping so peacefully, and bit her lip, knowing it would be a hassle trying to convince her ex-mother-in-law to look after her, despite the fact that the woman was always at home, never doing shit anyway, idle and unhelpful.
Dorinda: Yea, I can come. I just need to bring my daughter home with her grandmother, and I'll be on my way.
Hiring Manager: Sounds great! I won't be here when you get here, but my general manager, Tyson, will be here to hand over your paper work and to train you.
Dorinda: Okay, thank you; I appreciate it.
They hung up, and Doe smiled. Now she had to come up with the perfect stripper name, maybe sapphire or Vixen?
Thoughts 💭
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