Issue #4 | I Dog Hoes
Is that Bay over there with the community strap? Chile...
Straps & the City is an ongoing Black sapphic fiction about four Detroit-based women navigating life, love, and friendship.
*Playlist included at the bottom!*
Previously: After a disturbing dream about Jazz, some ‘sisterly love’, and one glass of red wine too many, Cassidy is forced to reconsider how she balances career with love life. It’s giving 3 a.m. life rebrand with a side of rash decisions.
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Bailey pretended not to notice the obvious tension between Cassidy and Jazz as she sat across from them at brunch.
Still, she couldn’t help but give them the occasional side-eye.
There was nervous energy coming from both sides, but Cassidy’s actions held an undercurrent of animosity as well.
Like when everyone sat down, and Jazz accidentally brushed her arm. She rolled her eyes and scooted her chair away like she’d been personally offended.
Bailey found this to be especially odd because out of everyone in the group, they’d probably touched each other the most.
Whether they were linking pinkies as they walked side by side or Jazz was massaging Cassidy’s feet after she kicked off her heels, they always had hands on each other.
Bailey tried to catch Cassidy’s eye in an effort to communicate nonverbally. She’d had enough of the secrecy and wanted to know what was up with her best friend, though she already had her assumptions.
Cassidy wasn’t having it, though. She kept her nose buried in her phone, a gesture that tested Bailey’s patience.
Bitch, I know the calendar app ain’t that damn interesting.
“Yeah, just the champagne again, please,” Bria half-shouted at their waitress through her dopey smile.
“And your number? Naw, I’m playin’. You are fine, though.”
About two glasses in, Bria had started asking to substitute the orange juice in her bottomless mimosas for more champagne. Her car was in the shop, which meant she wouldn't be driving herself home.
And apparently, she took that as a green light to show her natural born Black ass in these people’s restaurant.
She had already busted her ass on the way to the restroom earlier, and now she was hitting on the waitress who, thankfully, seemed amused—if not fully receptive to her antics.
Even though Bria’s inability to be serious lightened the mood a bit, Jazz and Cassidy’s earlier friction had dampened the vibes.
Brunch was supposed to be like church for the crew.
They congregated at the same spot every Sunday to blow off steam, laugh till they cried, and renew their energy.
It wasn’t just talking shit and having a quick kiki—it was sacred ceremony.
Bailey decided to take matters into her own hands. The heavy atmosphere wasn’t going to correct itself, so she’d do it with her latest revelation.
“Sooo,” she started, glancing expectantly around the table.
Both Jazz and Cassidy lifted their heads, giving her their full attention. Bria, on the other hand, was in her own little world.
You could hear her off-key high notes over the chatter of the restaurant as she rocked side to side, singing Brown Sugar by D’Angelo.
Bailey cleared her throat and continued.
“I’ve been thinking about having a hoe phase.”
Utensils clanked on dishes as everyone looked at her wordlessly—even Bria, who cut through the shocked silence with a giggle.
“You can’t have a hoe phase,” she quipped, smacking her lips.
“You a Anita Baker bitch. Y’all don’t be doin’ shit like that.”
The look on Bria’s face was one of amused condescension.
Bailey shot back a look that said “You ain’t got no damn sense.”
“Um,” Cassidy said, gently placing her hand on Bailey’s wrist.
“Is everything okay, Bambi? Like at home? And with the bakery?” She questioned her with the caution of someone approaching a bomb.
Bailey threw up her hands in defeat.
“Oh my god, I’m not in crisis, ” she chuckled. “Business is great. I’m great. Everything’s great. Okay?”
She looked reassuringly at Cassidy, who offered a hesitant half-smile in return.
“I never got the chance to cut up like y’all did. Me and Mikayla were locked down for damn near a decade,” she continued.
“But now that I’m over the breakup…I don’t know. I’m just tryna see somethin’.”
Jazz nodded her head in understanding.
“I get you, Bay,” she remarked, drawing a grateful smile from her.
“Shit, every woman should explore her sexuality before settlin’ down. How else will you know what you like and what you don’t?”
Cassidy made a sound that was somewhere between a snicker and a snort as she ate her food. Jazz briefly acknowledged her passive-aggressive slight before continuing.
“Matter of fact, you should come out with me this weekend. I’m goin’ to that new gay club downtown.”
Bria’s eyes lit up like the Christmas tree at Campus Martius Park.
“Ooh! I wanna come too!” she chimed in enthusiastically.
“I need to beef up my roster. My rose toy is barely holdin’ a charge these days.”
Jazz gazed at Bria with a puzzled curiosity before shrugging her shoulders and returning to her plate.
“So, girls’ night then?” Bailey responded giddily. “Sounds like the move to me! Cass? You down?”
Cassidy dropped her napkin on the table and leaned back in her chair.
“Can’t,” she answered, dejected.
“I’m gonna be at the office all weekend. The firm just landed our dream client, and guess who the other partners picked to impress him?”
She pointed limply at herself.
Jazz shook her head contemptuously as she cut through her stack of sweet potato pancakes.
“Sounds about right,” she murmured under her breath.
Bailey peered at Cassidy and saw that she had clasped her manicured fingers together like a supervillain with a French tip.
She braced herself. There was no way she was going to let that little dig slide.
Cassidy slowly cocked her head in Jazz’s direction.
“You sure Destiny won’t mind you going to hoe night, Jazz?” she spat.
“Wouldn’t want you to ruin your chances of fucking her behind Tim’s back again.”
Jazz nodded wryly as she finished up her bite.
Cassidy’s scrappiness had never frightened her. If anything, it was one of the things that drew her closer.
“How’s Nicole, by the way?” she smirked, meeting her gaze unwaveringly.
“You been pretty fuckin’ pressed about me lately. I hope her little ego ain’t bruised.”
Bailey gasped softly, feeling guilty for steering the conversation in the wrong direction.
Cassidy’s head jerked backward, clearly thrown by the sharpness of Jazz’s clapback.
Bria squinted her eyes suspiciously, ready to stir shit up.
“Wait a minute,” she said, a conspiratorial smile dancing on her lips.
“Y’all fuckin’ or somethin’?”
And there it was.
The question that had been on the tip of Bailey’s tongue since the night Jazz told everyone about Destiny.
Finally exposed to the light.
No longer safe to creep amongst the shadows.
The table fell silent as Bria’s eyes bounced between the accused.
The waitress returned with her champagne, but Jazz swiped it as soon as she set it down.
Bria's silent protest was met with a headshake that suggested finality.
“You don’t need no more of this,” Jazz asserted, voice low and firm.
Cassidy closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose.
“No Bria, we’re not fucking,” she replied.
But her head tilted when she said it, which Bailey knew could only mean one thing.
Damn. She’s lying.
“Well, y’all definitely did at some point.” Bria folded her arms like a petulant teenager demanding answers.
“That’s what we on now? We fuckin’ each other?”
Bailey began massaging her temples, making slow, intentional circles with her middle and ring fingers.
“Nope,” she interjected, giving her head a soft shake. “We are definitely not fucking each other.”
The waitress tried her best to stifle a chuckle.
“Y’all are so funny,” she grinned, revealing the red, star-shaped gems on her canines.
“This has been my favorite table all day. Need anything else before I leave?”
Bailey shook her head like a disappointed mother.
“I assure you, this is only funny from the outside looking in,” she replied, exasperatedly. “Can we get the bill before my friend here gets any more out of pocket?”
“Absolutely,” she smiled softly, scribbling in her notepad before ripping out the page and placing it on the table.
“Y’all get my girl home safe.”
She gave them a wink and hustled away.
Bailey picked up the piece of paper and examined it.
“No her ass didn’t,” she stated in disbelief.
“What? What is it?” Cassidy pressed, grabbing the small sheet from her hand.
Bailey laughed incredulously. “She put her number on the bill.”
Cassidy inspected the scrawled out digits closely.
Sure enough, there was the waitress’s name, number, and a short message—“Call me if you were serious.”
“Sloppy drunk and still pullin’?” Cassidy teased, “I can’t do anything but respect it.”
Bria snatched the check and stared at it, beaming.
“Man, I love brunch with my bitches,” she sighed, leaning her head on Bailey’s shoulder. “We be havin’ a fuckin’ time.”
Bailey’s eyes shifted to Jazz, who had been silently observing as everything unfolded.
“You know you’re taking her home, right?”