3 Likkle Stories: ISO Book Deal

Go Natural Jamaica

Took a job near San Diego & got recruited from there to a job in Jamaica. Got called “goddess” a bunch. Didn’t understand that the place was for sale & that it being for sale was a secret.

I arrived late in the evening to a very large security guard who welcomed me by opening his pants as if to say, “You can’t wait for this, can you?” Granted, I’ve got my fair share of sexual trauma. I also know I’m not the only woman in history to transcend it as best as possible with this yogāsana stuff. No, the irony is not lost on I, either. To say that Palmer’s behavior was triggering is an understatement. Dude was wearing a Mason ring — come to find out it’s fairly common for men to wear rings of this size & I would not be surprised if some of them pried these rings off dead fingers. I mentioned that I’d gone to George Mason & did some fast-talking because I was in a foreign country where the security guard was making me feel anything but secure. (Think: make one’s self seem larger than one is to scare off the bear.) There were no guests for a few days. I wanted to arrive early to get the lay of the land… not BE the lay of the land.

Palmer was the only security guard who was like that. Every other one I met was a delight. Even the one who told I the day job was to hunt wild boar. Showed I this magnificent knife as we overlooked the sea. This guard was where I got this idea for a security company. One that has yet to be implemented — saving that digression for the end. Travis was the fave. New father who smokes ganja. Big smile. Slept a lot. There was nothing to fear on the property. The security guards were there to keep the restless & sketchy locals from stealing everything. Hence the secret about the place being for sale. One of my fave security guards was an old-school guy who’d been around for a long time. When it came down to it, loyal to the corrupt manager because they all know each other & each other’s families.

The manager was a young mother who knew a lot about a lot. Wanted to be a New Yorker (I think) & not a Jamaican. Liked dressing in clothes that looked somewhat fashionable, yet wore Crocs (!!!) & had even seen the Jack Black on IG. (WHAT ARE THOOOOOSE?!?!?!?) Had a nasty jealous streak about so many things — especially the A-frame on the property. It didn’t take long for I to discover this woman named Anya was getting handed way too much money with no checks & balances system in place. I got the vibe that the owners installed Anya because there wasn’t anyone else. Apparently Anya had already been fired once. Anya tricked the Rasta & had a daughter as a result of the trickery. The father’s father is the snake who never returned that iPhone 12 mini. Anya had a huge birthday bash thrown for Anya by Anya & I heard later that on the way home the baby daddy’s friends robbed Anya, who then took it out on the staff. I included. Skimming money off the top & not giving the tips I encouraged the guests to provide for everyone to everyone. Pocketing a lot.

Anya wanted I to go on the excursions with the guests & I preferred to stay back, help the staff, & be available for anyone who didn’t want to go. The day I left was the day I returned from one of the excursions & Anya charged me for the cab ride AND the excursion taking all my JMDs & then said I was to move out of where I stayed or Anya would move I out. After I left I heard no one moved into the room I was chased out of. I managed to get one message to the owner about this before the phone went missing. The owner whom I only knew as either Prana or Ram Dras said I would be refunded, was apologetic, yet I never saw a single dollar, Jamaican or otherwise.

I contacted the new owner right before I got beaten up by Ricky Benz & was forced to take out a large loan for an emergency plane ticket. The new owner wanted to know if this was a Rasta issue. I believed that to be the case (OneHeart & all that), yet was told there would be no involvement. I don’t blame this woman one bit. Prana, who apparently lives in Ocho Rios with a baby & Rasta baby daddy, was not available for comment.

I spent over seven months in Jamaica. Went to save money & ended up getting assaulted, raped, robbed. I now owe the federal government money. There’s way more to this story…

Oh, the idea for a security company? Here goes:

The company is called Far Eye Security with the logo an eyeball that has a Rasta-striped Africa as the pupil. Once recruited there are three endurance tests:

  1. Catch a chicken. (Imagine filming this!!!)
  2. Kill a pig. (See Jamaican pig hunter for lessons.)
  3. Milk a goat. (Jamaicans really need to put out some goat milk & goat cheese. Duh.)

THEN, all must take Brazilian JiuJitzu lessons (non-striking martial art) led by my friend Dave Muirhead whom I can no longer find. Sad, because Davey is a BJJ World Champion who got involved with a woman who does not encourage Davey’s success. I’m quite sure there are a number of BJJ teachers who would accommodate this endeavor.

Someone PLEASE start this company!!! I only want 10.8% of the profits ;)

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How2bJazzAF

How2bJazzAF

Drugs. Music. Sex. Religion. IgboOracle. Hermeneutics. Indian/ Chinese/ Judahist/ Rastafari-infused Philosophies. ☠️ (Yes. I need an editor.)