Sexy Diva

So I’m sitting in my office, having an all-out war with an excel sheet (there’s only room in this office for one of us) when Naureene Watkons walks into the financial aid department.

Naureene is the epitome of ghetto fabulous. She has long braided hair, long vibrantly painted nails, and an ever-present pack of Newport cigarettes in her breast pocket. She is loud, slightly obnoxious, and as I came to find out, one hell of a mother.

I will begin with the loud and obnoxious part:

As soon as this Naureen sat in front of a computer, she started screaming that she wanted a hamburger. “I know ya’ll got sumpen up in here!” she screamed as Emma, the financial aid manager tried her best to be polite. “Come on!” Naureene screamed, “I just got some blood drawn! You gotsa give me sumpen!” Upon hearing this, one of her classmates remarked that she didn’t have that much blood drawn and she would be fine without food. Naureene’s response: “Girl! Why you gotsa blow my cover? I was bout to get a free hamburger! I woulda split it with you!”

For the next five minutes, the Naureen’s banter followed a similar trajectory. Figuring that this could go on for a while, I pulled up a chair to get a better view of the show. But it wasn’t until Emma asked her if she was still supporting her sons that things got interesting. Naureen went off and said, “oh hell no! My sons are fine on their own! I aint give them nuttin.” Of course, my first assumption was that she just didn’t have the money to help support them. But then she kept talking…

“I tell you, I told my boys I don’t want you bringin’ home no Shaquina’s or Eurasia’s , or Laquatisha’s or any other ghetto girls home. All they gonna do is wait for you on the corner. Oh hell no! I took my boys up state, away from all that trash! You hear me. Shit, I made their ass’s come home every day and study. Cause I sure as hell can’t afford no college!  Hey, you want to see a picture?”

I jumped up with my hand out. Naureen showed me a picture of her oldest son. “Yeah, he’s a corporal in the marines. Bout to be a lawyer. Here he is playing basketball with Barak.” The picture showed her son with his unit posing with Barak Obama. “That’s right,” she continued, “He couldn’t a done that shit with Laquisha! Shit, If I would of kept them hear, they would have been out hustling drugs like their no good cousins. Oh, hell nah. Yup, the youngest corporal in his unit.” A little taken aback, I asked about her other son.

“Here he is, my younger boy. Good looking like his momma. You know Im a sexy diva, Right? Yup, there he is interning with Senator Murphey. And here he is talking to some judge. That’s what he wants to do, be a judge. He’s bout to join the navy and he’s been in school for two years already.  I told both them boys not to forget about their momma! I told em’ that they wouldn’t be nuttin without their momma. They best not put me in no retirement home! Shit, all those bitches in there want to do is beat up old people! Well, I aint haven that!”

I don’t think I have ever misjudged a person so badly in my life.