I didn’t like it when my wives-in-law made me angry. It made me have feelings toward them that I later regretted. But I couldn’t help myself tonight. I wanted to kill Ester and Lula. It was just like those nosy bitches to follow me over to Capp Street in the Mission District. That’s where a lot of the street girls worked. They took care of business behind or between parked cars, doing two tricks for the price of one, or for free if the motherfucker was packing a weapon.
I didn’t make half the amount of money on the streets that I made working for Clyde, but in my case, every dollar counted. Besides, what I made on the streets was all mine.
Ester and Lula knew more about my business than they needed to know, and I didn’t like that one bit. So what if I needed a little extra money every now and then. Let those heifers try to raise three kids on the few dates that Clyde set up for me.
Tonight was a bad one for me. Mainly because I was still pissed off with Ester and Lula for spying on me. I couldn’t get rid of the scowl on my face. And it probably had something to do with my trick canceling a date after he saw me. Clyde had set me up with this Jewish doctor from San Jose, in San Francisco to attend a medical convention.
“Mr. Goldstein is a good time, baby. He’s into spankin’ so he needs a big, strong, strappin’ honey like you. But don’t worry, you’ll get to spank the shit out of him, too. Don’t you hurt him now. He’s one of the biggest cash cows I know.”
“I’ve never spanked a man before.” I sighed, picturing some freak in a mask greeting me at the door with a paddle in his hand. “I’ve only spanked my kids,” I admitted.
“Just close your eyes and pretend you spankin’ one of your kids,” Clyde said impatiently. “Anyway, he’s a cool dude. I used to play cards with him when he lived in ’Frisco. You’ll love him to death,” Clyde assured me.
I hadn’t met a single one of Clyde’s customers whom I “loved to death,” even though he said that every time he sent one of us on a date for the first time with a regular customer. It was just a job and there was no love in it for me. Except for the money.
Mr. Goldstein had a suite at the Hyatt Regency, the same hotel Liz Taylor stayed at when she came to San Francisco. As soon as that motherfucker saw me, he decided he wasn’t so horny after all and practically chased me back out the door! I called Clyde from my cell phone as soon as I got in the elevator and told him what happened. But that goddamn Jew had already called Clyde and told him God knows what about me! All Clyde told me was, “Dude asked for a stout Black woman. He said he didn’t like your attitude, girl. What’s your problem?”
“Nothing. I just had some things on my mind,” I said, whimpering.
“Well, you better get them things off your mind if you want to get paid,” Clyde snapped.
“What about Mr. Bob? He hasn’t asked for me in a long time,” I whined, so mad and offended I was trembling. I could tell that Clyde was getting impatient by the way he kept letting out his loud breath and snorting.
“Listen, baby, Mr. Bob ain’t never called for you on his own. I only set you up with him when there wasn’t nobody else to send. Now you sit tight. This is the Christmas week and things is slow. You ought to be at home with your babies anyway.”
“That’s just it, Clyde. It’s Christmas and I want it to be a nice one for my kids. You know how greedy my oldest daughter is. Please, hook me up.” I didn’t like to beg, but then I did a lot of things I didn’t like to do. Like put up with my daughter, Juliet’s smart mouth. Juliet was only ten, but she was grown enough to criticize everything about me, from my weight to the way I dressed. I had to do everything I could to please that child. I couldn’t stand the thought of her feeling about me the way I had felt about my mother. Well, it had already come to that, but there was still time for me to keep it from getting any worse. My kids were all I had left in the world. I had to keep them happy.
“Oh, I got beaucoup goodies for your three babies. Keisha’s at my place wrappin’ gifts for ’em now. But I can’t help you with no other date tonight, sister. Now you have a Merry Christmas. I’ll call you Sunday after I get home from church.”
Clyde hung up before I could say another word. I was so angry, I was gritting my teeth like a mad dog. It was still early and I had just enough money on me for a cab to take me over to Capp Street.
It was just my luck to get a cabdriver who was too paranoid to take me all the way there. Cabdrivers got robbed there all the time. A few had even been killed. He dropped me off on Market Street, in the middle of downtown where he felt “safe.” I had to take two buses to get to my destination.
Things started to look up once I got to Capp Street. None of the regular girls were on the corner. Just a scowling, homeless old White woman pushing a stolen grocery store cart filled to the top with her grungy possessions. She didn’t waste any time getting on my case.
“Hey!” she yelled, waving a gnarled hand at me. She had on enough dusty, ill-fitting clothes for three people—dirty rags she had no doubt fished out of a trash can. A knitted cap covered her head and the top half of her face. I could barely see her bloodshot, beady eyes. But there was no mistaking the extreme look of contempt on her face. “I’m talkin’ to you, you low-down piece of shit. The mayor’s goin’ to run all of you sleazy tramps off these streets. You fat horny pig!”
It had come to this. Even a filthy, garbage-eating old homeless woman had no respect for me.
I surprised her when I said, “Merry Christmas to you, too.”
The woman grumbled and moved on. A few minutes later, a few anxious men slowed down their cars and waved dollar bills at me. After four hours and a lot of fumbling around in the backseats of cars that looked like low-riding boats, with men so gross I almost threw up in their laps, I called it a night.
Even though I was depressed, I was glad my kids would have a nice Christmas after all.