Insecure

On the afternoon of July 23, 2019,

26-year-old LaToya Thompson walked into a Red Lobster

on Crenshaw and Century.

But she never quite made it to those warm Cheddar Bay biscuits.

Honestly...

I don't fuck with Molly anymore.

What happened? Who's responsible?

Did anyone see this coming? Could anyone have stopped it?

Is LaToya just missing?

Or was she murdered?

We won't stop until we find out.

I'm Rose Cranberry, and this is Looking for LaToya.

Self-care Sunday!

Oh, wait a minute. Are you tryin' to seduce me?

Oh, always.

- -So, this week,

we have a guided yoga session set to the Mereba album.

Okay.

-Along with... -I'm listening.

Some herbal enhancements pre-rolled to perfection.

What? Well, in that case, namaste, bitch.

-Light it up. -Yes.

-I'm so glad we're sticking to this. -Mmm-hmm.

'Cause, you know, I feel really good.

Girl, same.

Yesterday at the grocery store, this white lady tried to cut me.

Now, I coulda cussed her oat milk-drinkin' ass out,

but I said, "Nope. That emotion does not serve me."

Not today, dairy-free bitch.

-Self-care Sunday. -Yes.

Yeah, I was thinking earlier,

-ever since I got my place in order... -Hmm.

...it's like my life follows suit, you know what I'm sayin'?

So many new opportunities have opened up.

It's a whole new world. I'm Jasmine.

Oh, okay. Well, come through, Princess Flex.

No, I'm serious. I'm... I'm on this forward path.

I'm focused.

-It's like, no job, no man, no... -Huh?

All this sounds bad, but it's actually really good.

-It's good vibes, though. -

At least you're puttin' out the energy you want back.

I gotta work on that. Work is draining me.

Well, it takes time.

We just gotta hold each other accountable.

Okay.

Girl, you about to burn your yoga mat.

I know!

- Hey. - Hey.

-Good to see you. -You too.

Ooh, I like that top.

-Is it new? -This? No, I been had this.

-Oh. -It was my grandma's.

She died.

Had hella scurvy.

Oh, I'm sorry. It just looked so new.

Oh, I try to take care of my things.

Oh, no.

Yeah, I got it.

-Should we go over our checklist? -Check me.

-Okay, A/V. -Mic check.

-Seating. -Cheer zone. Check.

-Food. -Tacos on deck.

-Alcohol. -Bars on wet.

Okay, then we're all set.

-Ooh! -

-And I have someone micing up the fanboys. -Oh, perfect.

This mixer's gonna be great.

We need to lock in these sponsors

and you'll have everything for the block party.

Look at us, just on top of our shit.

- -

Oh.

Aw, is that the comeback kid?

Yeah, it's been like a month. We're still goin'.

Get it, girl.

He's coming to the mixer.

What? Oh, I'm so excited to meet him.

Tell him to bring his wallet so he can sponsor me.

Ooh, ah!

Hey, uh... Hey, Andrew.

Can you tell me where all the pins went?

-Mmm. -I mean, I don't see them anymore.

I mean, they were just here a second ago,

and now they're... now they're not.

Pretty sure they went straight to your head.

You know, I think you held all your power in your hair.

-And now it's gone. -Wow.

Okay, or maybe only fucking nerds are good at bowling.

That's what haters say.

Hater? Okay, well then, let's raise the stakes.

-Oh. -Mmm-hmm.

If I get a strike, you have to key Taurean's car.

I am not trippin' on Taurean.

I don't need to be friends with every bald-headed person.

Patrice is enough.

Okay. Different bet.

If I get a strike...

-Mmm-hmm. -...you have to kiss me.

Oh, okay.

-Mmm-hmm. - Okay.

- Ooh. Wow. -That was...

Yeah. I tried.

Mmm-hmm.

Um, there's too much... momentum?

-My bad. -Yeah.

-Let's switch it up. -Okay.

Thanks.

- -Okay.

- -Ooh.

Oh, yeah.

Oh.

I'm not really, uh...

This position is also presenting some issues for me.

Damn, girl.

You like a Rubik's cube.

But I like a challenge.

Okay, how about... how about this?

Oh, shit.

I didn't think this would work.

Okay.

- Oh... Okay! -

- Okay! Okay! -

Damn, that missionary really be hittin', though.

I mean, church is always the answer.

Oh, shit, you got a fan? That's what's up.

Oh, yeah, you sweat on me a lot last time. So...

Hey, welcome to a full-sized nigga.

- -But also, your room be hot as fuck.

Ain't you the property manager? You need to fix that.

It's 65 degrees, but go off.

Oh, that reminds me. Got you a little somethin', too.

Oh, word?

Compliments of TSA confiscation.

Don't ever change. Thank you.

Well, you know. I'mma holler at you later.

Bye.

-Girl, are all these for the mixer? -Mmm-hmm.

Your neck's not long enough for these turtlenecks.

Ooh, girl, I'm exchanging all these.

Condola got me meeting in all these fancy spots

and I gotta rotate my wardrobe to keep up.

I mean, these don't fit.

You need me to help out with anything?

Hell yeah. I'm puttin' everybody to work.

Condola got all these important-ass people comin'.

Target, Sonos, Casamigos, Baby Phat.

Oh, shit, girl. These are, like, real brands.

That's legit, right?

I got Wayne from the Popeyes on Centinela

and Durty James from Jamz Creamery.

I mean, girl. Everybody loves that chicken from Popeye's.

I knew it.

This mixer is not about to match the level of people coming.

And because of Condola, people are gonna expect elegance,

and here I am, inviting Target to my apartment.

Why did I think I could do this?

First of all, don't act like you don't have shit to offer.

Hey, you've planned events before. You've raised money.

Yes, this is on a bigger scale, but, bitch, you weigh more now.

I don't like that metaphor but I appreciate your energy.

And also, I'm thinking of inviting Andrew, and he works at Live Nation.

So, bloop! You know important people too.

He plus one status?

You know, you know, we're just having fun.

Plus the nigga got jungle fever and he is infected.

-Okay? -Okay.

He patient zero in this motherfucker.

That's nice.

Yeah, you know, I feel like I got it.

Yeah, girl. You got it.

You can't keep doing this.

Mmm-hmm. Yeah, for sure.

Tell me what to do.