The air in the room reeked
the air in the room reeked of stale tobacco and cheap gin.
only the absolute necessities in it: a double bed with a metallic skeleton and
a thin mattress, two nightstands whereon boxes brimful with condoms stood,
a small refrigerator in the corner, and next to it a small cabinet.
two shelves contained bedsheets and towels,
the third a lovely collection of booze.
“how about some music?” Yvonne asked, and took out her iPhone.
“God, I love this song,” she said as she swayed to Jimmy Hendrix’s Voodoo Child.
“yeah. so, this is where you live? or where you just work?”
“both,” she replied, her voice coming off somber despite her dancing.
“uh-hum. so, a drink?”
“of course. I’ll have a gin on the rocks.”
I mixed two; the moment we sat on the mattress,
it creaked and budged under our weight.
“I’ve often meant to get a new bed. but this one’s sturdy, and does its job.”
we clinked glasses and drank. “I imagine you need a sturdy bed, right?”
“part of the job requirements. does it bother you? what I do for a living?”
“why should it? does it bother you I’m a broke drunkard writer?”
“nope.”
we drank some more, then our bodies amalgamated
into a single bouncing body making the mattress squeak
and the bed drag against the floor. didn’t even think
of the number of men that’d been in my position;
I did have a dirty past, too, I just never got paid for my troubles.
once the deed was done, and she cleaned herself up with some tissues,
we lay in bed, taking pulls of gin out of the bottle.
“you better leave. I have to take a shower and get dressed.
in about an hour, we open for business.”
“okay, fine. see you in two days?”
“maybe, I’ll come by the bar tomorrow.”
we didn’t kiss goodbye. I left the small two-story house with
the seven bedrooms and shambled down to the bar by the port.
“the usual?” the bartender asked, I nodded.
large draft beer and triple Jim Beam on the rocks arrived on the dirty wooden counter.
“hey, George,” Jeanette greeted me with a long peck on the cheek.
“how about buying a tequila for a girl enjoying her day off?”
“sure.”
she hunkered down on the neighboring stool.
she bought the next round; I bought the one after. and so on.
until the bar had to close and we went to the apartment she shared
with three other young women selling their bodies to make ends meet.
Horror Sleaze Trash 