Pages

Sunday, October 27, 2013

The Note

I can remember walking through the mall with my cousin and my sister on Black Friday, seeing all the sexy thug types who were still wearing baggy pants (mercifully, the tight jeans disease that had already hit Vegas had yet to reach the Midwest) and thinking, what was really so special about Ken? But as soon as my plane touched down at McCarran Airport, he was the first person I called. Just like the lights of the Strip, which I saw the moment I stepped outside, breathing the air here put me right back into a mindset, and that mindset was him.

Ken told me he'd 'missed me so much!' but was super busy getting ready for semester finals, which he needed to do well on to keep his scholarship. I quickly became busy, too, busy working. Rent was just a few days away, and the thing about my club was, sometimes tricks came in and dropped a lot of money, and sometimes good tricks didn't come at all.

I called Ken two days before rent was due and told him if I didn't make the full amount by early the following afternoon, I'd need him to bring me up some of our money. He said that was fine.

The next day, I found myself about eighty dollars short and called him. He didn't answer. I figured he was in class and would call me back soon. When he didn't, I called once more. Twice more. Five, six, ten times. I called his mama's house. She told me he was in the library. I stayed in the club, waiting for tricks, and calling. Calling when I knew from the first ring he wouldn't pick up, then calling again. As much as I didn't want to be disrespectful, I called his mama's house late at night.

“He's asleep, baby.”

“Can you wake him up? It's important...”

“Okay.” Pause. “He's so tired he won't get up. I'll tell him you called in the morning.”

It was hitting me, like an alcoholic coming to in a crashed car, a slow motion clash of panic and regret, the knowledge of pain I couldn't even feel yet. He'd played me. I couldn't...

I couldn't deal with it right now, couldn't process it. I couldn't think about anything other than getting this eighty dollars I needed to keep from being homeless.

I stayed at the club after all the other girls left. An hour before it closed, almost eighteen hours after I'd arrived, a man came in. He bought a room. He wanted a “contact dance.” I asked for a hundred and fifty dollars. He said he could only give me, like seventy-five.

“Just give me a hundred and you'll get a really good show,” I said.

He did, and I let him grope the fuck out of me for half an hour. Then I was able to tip out the manager and have exactly what I needed to give Brooke, plus bus fare and maybe seven dollars for food.

I got inside, set the money on the counter, went into my room, laid down and pulled the Power Ranger's blanket Ken had left for me (how could a bad person still sleep with their childhood blanket?) over my head, fell asleep.

The next morning I kept waking up. I'd hear people walking around outside and think it was him. I was sure he would come over as soon as his mama told him I had called. He would bring me some money and tell me he was so, so sorry, and I'd tell him it was okay, because it would be. But he never came, and I could only fall back asleep so many times.

I called him over and over but his phone went straight to voicemail now.

In a daze, I got myself together and caught the bus. The first thing I did when I got to the club was sit down in the office and tell Mr. War on Drugs what had happened. He listened, and said, basically, “damn.”

It should have been a good day. I was the only girl at work so far. I should have sat in the dressing room, reading or writing, while I waited for a trick. Instead I wound up crying into a coffee filter, as we had no tissues. There were so many layers to my pain. I was mourning the loss of something I'd given so much to get. I was overwhelmed; starting from broke had been so hard the first time, I didn't know if I had the strength to do it twice. And I was suddenly, excruciatingly aware that the things I'd feared becoming- alone, unloved- were what I'd really been all along.

At some point, I heard a man talking to the manager. I scraped my eyes dry until I looked more on the stoned side than the life-completely-devastated side. I went out to the counter where we girls did our “brother line up” at night. The customer was black, tall, and looked to be in his twenties- he'd tell me later he was 28.

“Keri, this gentleman bought a half hour room,” Drug War told me.

I couldn't believe it. A manager had actually sold a room- girl unseen. I can't even stress how that just never, ever, happened.

I took the guy to the back and told him, essentially, “I work for tips, and the better tip I get the better show we get to do, so it all depends how much fun you want to have. A good dance is equal to the price of the room,” which in this case, was two hundred dollars.

He told me he wanted to fuck.

I think I asked him for four hundred.

“All I got is two.”

“For two it's just a regular dance.”

“Oh, for a regular dance I can pay like sixty.”

It had been etched in my mind over the last five months, that when you're “doing extras” you just don't come down too low. If you were gonna suck dick, you wanted to be able to say you got five hundred, four was probably cool. If you were gonna fuck in the club, you better get more than that or pray nobody found out.

But nobody was here, and hadn't I just established in my mind that nobody gave two cares about me anyway? I thought it through. This guy was not ugly. He was not dirty or clucked-out or corny-acting. Chances were very good, that if I'd met him at a different time, at a 7-Eleven or a Carl's Jr. located in a parallel universe and we'd got to talking, parallel Kaari would have fucked him for free. So what the hell was stopping dead-broke Kaari from fucking him for two hundred dollars?

“Cuz you're sexy,” I said, took the money, and handed him a Magnum.

(I can say that my whole time turning tricks, I always used Magnums, despite the fact that my clients were mostly Viagra poppers who didn't need to know the first thing about a gold wrapper. Magnums were what I used in 'real life', and I guess I'd convinced myself that since I didn't carry around the whole condom aisle like the real pros, well, I must not have been a real pro. I must have just been a stripper who occasionally did more.)

Another thing I can say, that boy was the right size and that was thee one time I actually felt any type of pleasure with a trick. Usually, I felt either numbness or discomfort. This time, I was feeling good enough to get me out of my feelings, into my thoughts. I thought that I was having one-time sex with a 28-year-old, like a typical teen girl, and at the same time I was making what Burger King paid the typical teen girl for a whole week's work. What was so bad about that? I know it's wrong on a fundamental level, but at that moment I was really thinking God had sent this trick to me today. If He had, maybe He still had a plan for me after all.

Of course, my optimism wouldn't last. The next day, I was crying and hyperventilating so bad, Brooke tried to give me a Xanax. I'd always sworn I would never drink or do any type of drugs. It was the one way I could guarantee I wouldn't play my role in the whole addiction cycle thing. Not trusting myself not to take it, and not wanting to be in this apartment anymore, because I didn't really want to be anywhere, I threw my coat on, went down to the busy sidewalk, and cried there.

Maybe I really couldn't fix things or start over. Maybe this really was gonna be it for me. I wasn't sure how I'd do it yet- pills, jumping- but I knew I would need a note. I got myself together enough to go into a nearby bank and ask for a pen. Then I sat down at the bus stop and pulled my notebook out of my backpack, turned to a fresh page.

This was the notebook where I sometimes wrote scenes for the novel I'd been working on since tenth grade. The main character's story wasn't over yet, though, so how could mine be?

I wrote, “This was supposed to be a suicide note” at the top of the page. Then I outlined how Ken had hurt me, how it was worse because I'd trusted him, despite having trust issues stemming from getting abused as a young child. Though it felt like he'd damn near killed me, I wasn't going to finish myself off, I said. One day he'd see, the world would see, that there had been a reason for me to live.

When the bus pulled up, I hopped on. I got off and walked the rest of the way to Ken's apartment complex. I knocked on the door. His mother answered.

“Is Ken home?”

“No.”

“Oh. Can you give him this?” I handed her the note.

Then I went straight to work.

No comments:

Post a Comment