Women - Charles Bukowski [243]
“Are you all right?” I asked. “Is there anything I can do?”
“Yeah, buy me a stinger.”
I came back with her stinger and sat down. She had taken her feet off the chair. I sat next to her in the booth. She lit a cigarette and pressed her flank to mine. I lit a cigarette. “My name’s Hank,” I said. “I’m Elsie,” she said. I pressed my leg against hers, moved it up and down slowly. “I’m into plumbing supplies,” I said. Elsie didn’t answer.
“The son-of-a-bitch left me,” she finally said, “I hate him, my god. You don’t know how I hate him!”
“It happens to almost everybody 6 or 8 times.”
“Probably, but that doesn’t help me. I just want to kill him.”
“Take it easy now.”
I reached down and squeezed her knee. My hard-on was so strong it hurt. I was damn near ready to come.
“Fifty dollars,” Elsie said.
“For what?”
“Any way you want it.”
“Do you work the airport?”
“Yeah, I sell Girl Scout cookies.”
“I’m sorry. I thought you were in trouble. I have to meet my mother in 5 minutes.”
I got up and walked away. A hooker! When I looked back Elsie had her feet up on the chair again, showing more than ever. I almost went back. God damn you anyhow, Tanya.
Tanya’s plane made its approach, landed without crashing. I stood and waited, a little bit behind the crush of greeters. What would she be like? I didn’t want to think about what I was like. The first passengers came through and I waited.
Oh, look at that one! If that were only Tanya!
Or her. My god! All that haunch. Dressed in yellow, smiling.
Or that one…in my kitchen washing the dishes.
Or that one…screaming at me, one breast fallen loose.
There had been some real women on that plane.
I felt somebody tap me on the back. I turned and behind me was this very small child. She looked about 18, thin long neck, a bit round-shouldered, long nose, but breasts, yes, and legs and a behind, yes.
“It’s me,” she said.
I kissed her on the cheek. “Got any baggage?”
“Yes.”
“Let’s go to the bar. I hate waiting for baggage.”
“All right.”
“You’re so small….”
“Ninety pounds.”
“Jesus….” I’d slice her in half. It would be like a child rape.
We went into the bar and took a booth. The waitress asked for Tanya’s I.D. She had it ready.
“You look 18,” the waitress said.
“I know,” Tanya answered in her high Betty Boop voice. “I’ll have a whiskey sour.”
“Give me a cognac,” I told the waitress.
Two booths over the high-yellow was still sitting with her dress pulled up around her ass. Her panties were pink. She kept staring at me. The waitress arrived with the drinks. We sipped them. I saw the high-yellow get up. She wobbled toward our booth. She put both hands flat on our table and leaned over. Her breath stank of booze. She looked at me.
“So this is your mother, huh, you mother-fucker!”
“Mother couldn’t make it.”
Elsie looked at Tanya. “What do you charge, darling?”
“Fuck off,” said Tanya.
“You give good head?”
“Keep it up. I’ll turn you from yellow to black and blue.”
“How ya gonna do it? With a bean bag?”
Then Elsie walked off shaking her ass at us. She barely made it back to her booth and then she extended those glorious legs again. Why couldn’t I have both of them? King Mongut had 9,000 wives. Think of it: 365 days a year divided into 9,000. No arguments. No menstrual periods. No psychic overload. Just feast and feast and feast. It must have been very hard for King Mongut to die, or very easy. There could not have been an in-between.
“Who’s that?” Tanya asked.
“That is Elsie.”
“You know her?”
“She tried to pick me up. She wants $50 for a blow job.”
“She pisses me…I’ve known a lot of groids but…”
“What’s a groid?”
“A groid is a black.”
“Oh.”
“You never heard that?”
“Never.”
“Well, I’ve known a lot of groids.”
“O.K.”
“She’s got great legs, though. She almost gets me hot.”
“Tanya, legs are only a part of it.”
“Which part?”
“The biggest.”
“Let’s go get the luggage…”
As we left Elsie hollered, “Goodbye,