“Twenty-five for a hand job,” she said. “Forty for a blow job, sixty if you want to fuck.”
“Have you... ah... been to a doctor lately?” the man asked.
“Clean as a whistle,” she said.
“Forty sounds high for a... for what you said.”
“A blow job? Is that what you’re interested in?”
“I might be.”
“What’s holdin you back then?”
“The price. Forty sounds definitely high.”
“Forty’s what I’m gettin.”
“You’re not getting much standing here in the rain,” he said, and laughed at his own little joke. “Three o’clock in the morning,” he said. “You’re not getting much standing in the rain.”
“You ain’t gettin nothin ’thout the forty dollars,” she said and laughed with him. “Think it over. Take your time.”
“That’s a nice... ah... set you’ve got there,” he said.
“Mmm,” she said, smiling.
“Very nice,” he said, and reached out to touch her breasts.
She turned away shyly. “No, please,” she said. “Not here.”
“Where?”
“Place around the corner.”
“Forty dollars, is that it?”
“Forty’s the price.”
“Are you very good at it?”
“I’m not Linda Lovelace, but I promise you won’t be sorry.”
“And you’re clean? You’ve been to a doctor?”
“Get a checkup every day,” she lied.
“Still,” he said, shaking his head. “Forty dollars.”
She said nothing. He was already hooked.
“Well, okay,” he said, “I guess so.”
She looped her hand through his arm, and stepped under the umbrella with him.
“This is my first time with a colored girl,” the man said.
“Always a first time,” she said. “Change your luck. You want to let me have the forty, please?”
“Oh, sure,” he said, “of course,” and took his wallet from his rear pocket, and pulled out a sheaf of bills. “What’s your name?” he asked.
“C.J.,” she said. She waited while he searched for the forty. She once had a John ask her if she could break a C-note. Surprised hell out of him when she dug the change out of her bag. Thought he was going to get a free ride, the jerk. Can you break a hundred? Sure, honey, how you want it? Twenties or tens? This same room right here. Sometimes they let her use a room in one of the massage parlors, when things weren’t busy with the regular girls. Go in there, mirrors on the walls, bottles of oil all different colors on the floor, think you were in an Arabian whorehouse someplace. This room here at the hotel was costing her $5 for however long it’d take her to blow this dude and send him on his way. Double bed and a dresser, sink in the corner, easy chair over by the window, shade on it, no curtains. Five bucks for a half hour at most. She was in the wrong business, she should be a hotel owner someplace.
“You gettin that forty?” she said.
“Yes, yes,” he said. “Do you mind singles?”
“Singles? Forty dollars in singles?”
“I’m a waiter,” he said, as if that explained it.
“I’m gettin to be a waiter, too,” she said, “waitin for the forty.”
He looked at her again, and then laughed and said, “Sorry,” and began counting out the $40 for her, one bill at a time, onto the palm of her outstretched hand. She listened to him counting it out, thinking the damn fool would spend all night paying her, never would get down to business here.
“...thirty-six, thirty-seven, thirty-eight, thirty-nine, and forty,” he said triumphantly. “I hope this’ll be good.”
“It’ll be real fine,” she said. “Don’t you worry. You want to go wash yourself now?”
“Wash myself?”
“Mm, wash your little ole dick, honey. Way I stay clean is to make sure you’re clean.”
“Yes, good,” he said. “Very good. Yes.”
“This your first time with a hooker?” she asked.
“No, no.”
“I’ll bet it’s your first time,” she said, smiling.
“No, I’ve been around,” he said, and went to the sink in the corner.
“But you never been asked to wash yourself before, huh?”
“Oh, sure I have,” he said.
“Wash it good now,” she said, and climbed onto the bed. She was wearing no panties. She opened her legs wide, figuring she’d give him a shot of the beaver when he turned around, maybe talk him into a fuck at sixty. Blow jobs were quicker, though. All percentage, she guessed. Come on, you asshole, she thought. I said wash it, not sterilize it. He turned from the sink, saw her lying there with her legs wide open, and damn if he didn’t blush!
“Come on over here,” she said, smiling.
He had a little white dick, was drying it with one of the hand towels as he came toward the bed. He was still blushing, little bald honky in his fifties, blinking at her behind his glasses, blushing red all the way from under his chin to the top of his baldy bean head.
“Think you might want some of this sweet pussy instead?” she asked, raising her hips. “Cost you only twenty more.”
“No, no, that’s all right,” he said.
“Mighty sweet pussy,” she said.
“No, no, thank you.”
“Just the blow job, huh?”
“Yes, please.”
“Just C.J.’s tender lips, huh?”
“Yes, please, just that.”
“Well, fine then,” she said. “Get up here on the bed. What’s your name, honey?”
“Frank,” he said.
Frank, she thought. Shit, your name is Marvin or Ralph. I get more fuckin Franks, she thought.
“Will you... ah... take off your clothes?” he asked.
“Sure,” she said, “if that’s how you want it.”
“Yes, I’d like that.”
“You’re the boss,” she said.
She stripped silently. He watched her while she undressed. Wearing only the blond wig and the high-heeled patent-leather shoes — always turned them on, you wore your spikes to bed — she went back to him.
“Ready, Frank?” she asked.
“Yes, please,” he said.
Her mouth descended.
It was still raining when they came out onto the street together. Frank, or whatever his name was, thanked her for her services, and told her he’d look for her again sometime. She said, “Right, Frank, glad you enjoyed it.” They parted company on the corner outside the hotel. With the umbrella over his head, he walked off into the rain. She pulled the collar of her coat high on the back of her neck, ducked her head against the rain, and began walking up toward the railroad station again. It was almost three-thirty. Turn a few more tricks, call it a night. Fuck Joey. Had no heart that man, sending a whore out on a night like this. Well, it wasn’t gonna be for much longer. Warned him, told him you keep treatin me mean like this, I’m splittin for good, you just wait and see. He told her, “You split on me, baby, I’ll split your head. They’ll find you in the gutter with your skull in two halves, you split on me.” Sure, Joey, she thought, but you just wait and see. I got me twenty-six hundred in the bank now, money you don’t know nothin about, man, got it all in a savings account uptown, Clara Jean Hawkins, far from the scene, man, don’t want you seein me make no deposit. Twenty-six hundred so far, and more comin. Two hundred every Wednesday night. And tomorrow I’ll be talkin to the man again, I’ll be sittin down at lunch with him and we’re gonna be talkin bout that album again. I’m gonna tell him I’ll have the three thou by the end of the month, which is more’n enough to get it done, he tole me, and then you know what you can do, don’t you, Joey? You can take your warnin’s and your threats, and you can shove them right up your—