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By Root 373 0

up again. Lexus-man had told her how he liked to come back to the ‘hood’ that he’d been brought up in and bragged how he’d got out and made his fortune in Manhattan. What an asshole, what a swoloch! Lu had soaked up his bullshit and taken him to a spot she favoured at the back of the Brighton Fish Market and had left him there as stinky as smoked mackerel when they were done. He didn’t look such a high-and-mighty tycoon with his pants down and his cum all over his stomach and that fancy leather interior. She was still smiling at the sweet nothings she’d whispered in his big waxy ear and how she’d turned him on. ‘U tebia ochen malenki hui, tolko pyat pat centimetrov?’ she’d purred as she’d started unzipping him. He might not have been so excited if he’d known she’d told him, ‘You have a very small dick, how big is it… only five centimetres?’ And there certainly wouldn’t have been a tip if he’d known that ‘U tebya rozha, kak obezyanya zhopa’ was not ‘Thank you very much’ but ‘Your mug looks like a monkey’s ass.’ She laughs and says ‘Mudak, mudak!’ as she strolls past Primorski’s restaurant, pausing to look through the window as cleaners stack chairs on tables and sweep floors. She’d rather sell her ass any day of the week than sweep someone’s floor.

She catches sight of a young waiter she knows called Ramzan and he waves at her but is too busy helping clear up to come to the door. Just last week he caught her eye down at a new bar off Ocean Parkway but by the time she’d shaken off the attention of an unwelcome punter he’d vanished. Her friend Grazyna says she should stay away from Ramzan, says he’s a Chechen and she’d do well to remember how much Oleg hates Chechens. But Lu doesn’t give a shit; Oleg can go fuck himself. Ramzan is tall, thin and handsome with kind eyes. He looks like the type of guy who would take care of her, maybe change her life for ever and get her out of this hellhole. Nose pressed to the glass, she watches Ramzan help one of the cleaning women move a table so that she can wipe beneath it and she feels a stab of jealousy. Fuck him, then. Lu Zagalsky waits for no one. She fishes in her purse and pulls out some crystal amphet; it’ll help take the pain away. As she gears up, her punter-radar alerts her to a guy about to use the ATM next to Primorski’s.

‘It’s broken,’ she calls to him.

‘Excuse me?’

‘It’s broken,’ she repeats, with no trace of her native Russian. ‘It’s always broken.’

‘Oh damn!’ He takes off his glasses and returns a gold credit card to his wallet. ‘Do you know where the next one is?’

‘Yeah, sure. East end of the Avenue,’bout three blocks down,’ says Lu, scenting an easy final trick of the night. She puts her hands on her hips. ‘I can show you if you promise to spend some of it on me.’

The man seems shocked and embarrassed. He glances up and down the street, looking as though he wants to, but doesn’t really know what to say or do. ‘Well – errm – I don’t know. I mean, I-I’ve never done anything like that before. I’m not certain, I m-mean…’

Lu moves closer to him. First-timers are always an easy hit. Get them over the initial flushes of nerves and later on they’ll show their gratitude with a big handout – in more ways than one. ‘Don’t worry, mister, I’ll look after you,’ she says, moving closer to him. ‘You got a car?’

He takes a step back and answers nervously, ‘Yes, yes I have. There.’ He points vaguely to some boring four-door Hyundai that no one under ninety would be seen dead in. Poor schmuck probably hasn’t had exciting sex with his wife in twenty years. Lu almost feels sorry for him. ‘Twenty dollars hand relief, fifty dollars oral, a hundred dollars for the lot,’ she says, as though waitressing in a diner and reading out the specials.

‘But, but…’ he stammers, ‘I don’t have any money. I j-just told you that.’

‘Hey, don’t sweat. I know that,’ she says, running her fingers down the lapel of his old blue suit jacket. ‘Look, you give me a ride and I’ll show you to the ATM, then you can give me another ride – you get my meaning?’

‘Y-yes. I understand,’ he says, fumbling for his car