Pulp - Charles Bukowski [100]
I poured a new scotch.
Hell, I’d even failed with women. Three wives. Nothing really wrong each time. It all got destroyed by petty bickering. Railing about nothing. Getting pissed-off over anything and everything. Day by day, year by year, grinding. Instead of helping each other you just sliced away, picked at this or that. Goading. Endless goading. It became a cheap contest. And once you got into it, it became habitual. You couldn’t seem to get out. You almost didn’t want to get out. And then you did get out. All the way.
So, now, here I was. Sitting listening to the rain. If I died right now there wouldn’t be one tear dropped anywhere in the world. Not that I wanted that. But it was odd. How alone could a sucker get? But there was a world full of old farts like me. Sitting listening to the rain, wondering where it all went. That’s when you knew you were old, when you sat wondering where it went.
Well, it doesn’t go anywhere, it’s not supposed to. I was three quarters dead. I flicked on the tv. There was a commercial. LONELY? DEPRESSED? CHEER UP. PHONE ONE OF OUR BEAUTIFUL LADIES. THEY DESIRE TO SPEAK TO YOU. CHARGE IT TO YOUR MASTER OR VISA CARD. SPEAK TO KITTY OR FRANCI OR BIANCA. PHONE 800-435-8745.
They showed the girls. Kitty looked best. I took a hit of scotch and dialed the number.
“Yeah?” It was a man’s voice. Sounded mean.
“Kitty, please.”
“You 21 or over?”
“Over,” I said.
“Master or Visa?”
“Visa.”
“Gimme your number and expiration date. Also, address, phone number, social security and your driver’s license number.”
“Hey, how do I know you won’t use this information for your own good? I mean, like screwing me around? Using this info for your own gain?”
“Hey, buddy, you want to talk to Kitty?”
“I guess so…”
“We advertise on tv. We been in business for 2 years.”
“All right, let me dig this stuff out of my wallet.”
“Buddy, if you don’t want us, we don’t want you.”
“What’s Kitty going to talk to me about?”
“You’ll like it.”
“How do you know I’ll like it?”
“Hey, buddy…”
“All right, all right, wait a minute…”
I gave him the info. There was quite a pause while they cleared my credit. Then I heard a voice.
“Hi, baby, this is Kitty!”
“Hello, Kitty, my name is Nick.”
“Oooh, your voice is so sexy! I’m getting a little excited!”
“Nah, my voice isn’t sexy.”
“Oh, you’re just being modest!”
“No, Kitty, I’m not modest…”
“You know, I feel very close to you! I feel like I’m curled up in your lap, I’m looking up at you with my eyes. I have large blue eyes. You’re leaning close, like you’re about to kiss me!”
“That’s crap, Kitty, I’m sitting here alone sucking on a scotch and listening to the rain.”
“Listen, Nick, you have to use your imagination just a little. Let go and you’ll be surprised what we can do together. Don’t you like my voice? Don’t you find it a little…ah, sexy?”
“Yeah, a little but not too much. You sound like you got a cold. You got a cold?”
“Nick, Nick, my dear boy, I’m too hot to have a cold!”
“What?”
“I said, I’m too hot to have a cold!”
“Well, you sound like you’ve got a cold. Maybe you smoke too many cigarettes.”
“I only smoke one thing, Nick!”
“What’s that, Kitty?”
“Can’t you guess?”
“Nah…”
“Look down at yourself, Nick.”
“O.k.”
“What do you see?”
“Drink. Telephone…”
“What else, Nicky?”
“My shoes…”
“Nick, what’s that big thing sticking out there as you talk to me?”
“Oh, that! That’s my gut!”
“Keep talking to me, Nick. Keep listening to my voice, think of me there in your lap, my dress slipped up a bit, my knees and thighs showing. I have long blond hair. It showers down over me. Think of all that, Nick, think of it…”
“All right…”
“O.k., now what do you see?”
“Same things: telephone, my shoes, my drink, my gut…”
“Nick, you’re bad! I’ve got a good mind to come over there and spank you! Or maybe I’ll let you spank me!”
“What?”
“Spanky,