by Jeri Estes
After singing her little ditty, she added, “How do you do? I am pleased to meet you,” as she extended her light brown hand.
“I’m pleased to meet you too,” I replied. Lovey’s shiny processed James Brown-pompadour crowned her like a huge Hawaiian wave. Defiantly, a single curlicue sprang down her forehead. The slick dandy’s Southern voice transported me to another age.
I introduced myself, “Hello, my name is Jesse Rawlson. Hey Lovey, I just asked my new friends, Little Bastard and Rascal, to join me in my cell for a poker game. You’re more than welcome to join us.”
Lovey Lupree graciously replied, “I don’t mind if I do.”
I headed down the corridor back to my cell. The bleakness of the place was beginning to get to me. The Daddy Tank was a special cell block that housed only butch lesbians. All the masculine girls were completely cut off without any recreation or entertainment privileges. The girls doing hard time had been stuck in this basement for years. It was quickly making sense why a girl had hung herself in here last month.
The only time a “daddy” saw sunlight was when the matrons led them through the open courtyard to the church. For that reason, my cellmates always went to church twice on Sundays.
Rescuing me from my dark mood, Little Bastard and Rascal entered my cell carrying their pillows. They dropped them on the floor as they entered. I cheerfully greeted them. “Welcome to the Rawlson Casino. Sorry, the topless waitresses are off tonight but the poker table is open.”
Gallantly, I gestured with a wave of my arm toward the bed to Rascal, “Please sit down.” I realized that it would be very hard to get her massive body up if she sat down on the floor.
Rascal replied in her high little voice, “Okay.”
As she sat on my bunk, I watched it sink several inches. Little Bastard then sat on her pillow on the floor and shuffled the cards with the speed of a Las Vegas dealer.
Lovey Lupree arrived and I welcomed my sister in trade. “Hello Lovey, welcome to my cell. Glad you could make it.”
Lovey spoke in a cultured voice. “I am pleased to join ya’ll. I took the liberty of bringing you all some chocolates for refreshments.”
“Wow,” I thought, “this girl obviously has class.”
Lovey informed us that she was the best-dressed pimp mac daddy in the French Quarter. While visiting San Francisco, she had been busted on a chump change charge called the “Three Articles of Clothing Law,” stopped as she was leaving Finnochio’s nightclub.
Lovey laughed as she told the story. “The only reason I got busted was because I’m black and that cop was envious of my nice clothes. That dumb white boy thought I was a man until I spoke. I was dressed so fine that night! I had on my best black Stetson, a burgundy pinstriped suit and matching alligators.
“I asked that dumb white boy, ‘Don’t you have anything better to do than to bust butches?’ The pig gave me a lecture on the “Three Articles of Clothing Law,” telling me I was in violation because I wasn’t wearing three articles of women’s clothing.”
“The fucking doorman at Finnochio’s didn’t even let me in when I went there dressed in hard drag,” I responded. “Those sissy bouncers are as bad as the pigs. They’re always afraid of being shut down for letting anyone in who’s dressed like the opposite sex. They said you can only dress in drag if you’re going on stage.” At this, Little Bastard and Rascal laughed, apparently from experience.
Little Bastard chimed in, “I think it’s a bogus anti-gay law. I bet it’s not even on the books. Man, it’s just another excuse for the pigs to crack our heads.”
Lovey continued her saga with an expression of innocence. “I told the cop I had a woman’s belt on. I showed him my fine alligator belt. He informed me, ‘Belts don’t count. The next time you leave the house, young lady, you need to be dressed as a girl, because that’s what you are.’”
Little Bastard and I laughed at the cop’s last remark.
“Lovey, so where are you pimping now?” I asked as we played our hands.
“I was working Columbus Street, but the cops weren’t very sweet. I was caught up in their sweep, so it’s here I sleep,” Lovey sang in her heavenly New Orleans drawl.
We all chuckled. I inquired further.
“How many girls do you have working for you, Lovey?”
“Just one at the moment and she’s my girlfriend too,” Lovey said with a twinkle in her eyes.
Laughing, I said, “If you’d like, your girl can work some of our tricks. We’ll split the profits. We have more johns that we can handle.”
Lovey smiled like a cherub. Her gold tooth moved with the beat as she sang with a wide grin, “My bitch is pretty, that is true. But she’s nothing like the girls on Jesse’s crew. Jesse’s known around the world for the green-eyed girl and the Asian Pearl.” She ended her ditty with a little soft shoe. “I’d be happy to be of service.”
“Lovey,” I replied. “Your singing talent alone would brighten up my crew. I must warn you ladies, though; it’s been getting a little chilly in the Tenderloin lately. The Fillmore boys are throwing their weight around. It could get pretty rough.”
“Good!” Little Bastard said excitedly. “We’ll feel right at home. Rascal and I grew up together in Salinas. Nothing’s rougher than Friday night when those grape-pickin’ boys get paid.”
“Great,” I replied. “I need strong enforcers on my posse. I have a really good feeling about all of you. I’ll pay your bail, your lawyer fees and put you up. It’s a fair investment, because I need you to hit the streets running.”
Lakesha interrupted the poker game. “Let’s go, Jessica. Follow me. The bus is leaving for the courthouse now!”
I told my new recruits, “I’ll call my lawyer today. He’ll start working on getting you three out of here.”
Little Bastard informed me, “Jesse, I’m booked under Kimberly Myers, and Rascal is Rosa Maria Vasquez.”
“You got it,” I said as I prepared to leave. “We’ll all party at Chuckkers when you get out.”
Lovey hugged me goodbye. She said in a low voice, “It’s nice to meet another mac daddy.”
“You got that right, Lovey. I’ll see you on the outside.”
“Sounds sublime!”
Lakesha called me in a loud, irritated voice, “Come on, Romeo, we don’t have all day!”
Chapter 20
RED DEVILS
Smoking a joint, I waited in the dark alley behind Chuckkers. Loud pulsating music escaped from the red windowless building. I watched the patrons swish by me down the sidewalk. Drunken gay boys dressed as bikers called out to each other in the tribal language of queers. Shouts of, “Oh Mary!” “Girl!” and “She’s too much!” floated by my space near the trash cans.
Anxiety lay beneath my grass-induced serenity. Deadly Chang was not happy with being stood up, and my blue-eyed bitch was pissed. I removed a small tinfoil wrapped roll of Red Devils from my hat lining. Opening my flask, I dropped three reds and washed them down with a swig of whiskey. I took another deep toke and tried to mellow out. I was dreading this confrontation with Bunny.
Entering the club, the music’s bass beat engulfed me as the Red Devils kicked in. I checked myself out in the mirrored wall. Looking good in fine rags, my stoned eyes revealed an invincible cockiness. I adjusted my vest so it rested neatly over my beautiful charcoal gray sharkskin slacks. Tonight, I was packing a .38 and a dick. Carmen liked the feel of my dildo as it pressed against her when we slow danced. She also enjoyed knowing that I packed a revolver. As Carmen liked to say, “Nothing’s sexier than a double packin’ gangster butch.”
As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I spotted Bunny through the haze. At the bar, sitting between an adoring straight couple, was my tits n’ pearl girl holding court.
Psychedelic lights swirled, shooting streams of light from the glittering ball hanging above the dance floor. The music was fast, but my friends were dancing slowly. They were too loaded and too cool to keep up with the beat.
The red walls of Chuckkers were decorated with the twelve signs of the Zodiac, painted in glittering gold and black lacquer. Above each booth was one of the heavenly constellations. Each star’s logo could be seen from anywhere within the after-hours club. As the pulsing lights reflected off the symbols, they acted as beacons, making it easy for people to find each other in the darkness. I saw Carmen sitting at our favorite booth at the back of the club.
I maneuvered through the crowded club toward the bar. As I slowly made my way, I felt Carmen’s eyes on me. I knew she got an inward tickle from watching my grand entrance through the club. My girl admired my arrogant strut. She’d often say to me, “Your attitude matches your walk. I am proud of the fact that you won’t take any shit from any bitch, including myself.”
Money was king, but it was chump change as far as motivators were concerned. The greatest intoxicator—what made selling your body and the price of the streets worth it—was that feeling of being cool. I believed the emotional drug of feeling hip was by far the best, badass dope.
As I sauntered up to the long bar, I passed the wannabe players who were terrified of me. I acknowledged the straight perverts who came down from the “Avenues” hunting for sex on a safari of lust. The straight bitches at the bar put their tits in my face like stop signs to get my attention. Carmen watched as the wet bitches drooled, rubbing up against me. I stopped for a moment to say hi to the regular johns, greeting each one with a warm smile and an upbeat remark.
Coming up behind Bunny, my sexy CEO, I said, “I’m surprised to see you here tonight.”
Bunny’s dazzling platinum hair fell softly over her bare shoulders. She looked stunning in a bare-backed, low-cut short red dress. Dangling over her voluptuous breasts was a strand of pearls, milky-white like her soft skin. She was sipping a martini and smoking a cigarette in a long black cigarette holder. I interrupted her chat with a well-dressed man and woman sitting on either side of her. I could tell from the lustful look in their eyes that they would prefer her sandwiched between them in bed.
“Jesse honey, how fun it is to see you. I dropped by to chat with you for a second. I know Carmen’s waiting for you and that you’re still making your rounds, so I won’t keep you. I must say, you look beautiful tonight,” With a mischievous look in her brilliant baby blues, she grabbed her red rhinestone clutch and said to the couple at the bar, “I’m calling it a night. I just want a word with Jesse before I go.”
Politely, the lustful perverts excused themselves to go dance, giving us a moment of privacy. With a look over her shoulder, the well-heeled lady said, “We would love to get together with you and Jesse later.”
Bunny smiled sweetly at both of them as they merged into the crowded dance floor.
“Okay, girl, what’s up?” I sat on the stool next to her. I lit up a smoke and waved off the approaching bartender saying, “No thanks, I’m going upstairs.”
Bunny took the last sip of her martini and said breathlessly, “I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve arranged something special; a show date for Carmen and Phyllis. Chang requested them specifically,” she added, nodding to nail home the point. “His nephew is coming to San Francisco for a few days and he wants only the best. I guess the young man’s a big fan of lesbian sex. Their being sisters would make it more delicious for him.”
Still in the doghouse, I didn’t tell her to fuck off immediately.
Bunny hurried on, not waiting for my response. “I’m sure you’ll handle it, Jesse. Chang’s such a dear. He doesn’t ask for much.”
Hearing the ice-cold edge behind her words, I panicked, knowing my jewelry store and business could be pulled out from under me.
“You can call me tomorrow and I’ll fill you in on the details,” she continued. Bunny popped off her stool, kissed me on the cheek and whispered, “Maybe you can come by my place later.”
I was already angry because of her brazen request, but calmly, I met Bunny’s seductive gaze. “Not tonight, honey. I’m not working. I’m taking the rest of the night off.”
Bunny ignored the slap and replied, “Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
As Bunny walked away, I looked for Carmen at our booth in the back. She was no longer there. She had probably gone ahead to our private meeting room upstairs to hang out with Rosie and Pearl. Carla, the owner of Chuckkers, let me use a private pool room upstairs for a small monthly fee. I headed upstairs, feeling trapped by my partner with the iron ovaries. Her non-jealous sexually-sharing femme act was wearing thin.
It seemed of late that Bunny, Little Rosie and Carmen had all caught the same jealousy bug. The previously well-defined emotional hierarchy among my whores was deteriorating. Bunny had just thrown me under the bus. Carmen would hate me if I asked her to have sex with her sister. The thought disgusted me as well.
“Femmes,” I thought, “playing their catty games with each other.” How could I say no? I was fucked if I did and fucked if I didn’t. I reminded myself, pimps don’t ask, they tell. Bunny had me by the balls. I would have to treat my girl Carmen like any other whore. It was too risky to say no to Bunny and her mob boss, not if Carmen and I were going to survive.
On the landing, I opened a door with a “Private Do Not Enter,” sign and entered the small, sparsely furnished room. Little Rosie and Asian Pearl sat at the bar in front of the pool table. They were both dressed in tight miniskirts and low-cut blouses. The dolled-up ladies of the night were enjoying a drink and a doobie as they relaxed after work. Bottles of booze and half-filled glasses lined the counter.
Carmen stood next to the pool table, looking sexy. She was wearing a tight, forest-green blouse and a black micro-miniskirt. Her pool cue and four-inch stiletto heels gave her a hot, slutty look. Carmen’s firm breasts pushed out against her skintight top as she leaned over the pool table to make a shot. She pointedly ignored me and focused on her solitary pool game.
Little Rosie lit up as I entered. “Hi Jesse, baby! I poured you a shot of Jack and a water back. This little girl is tired, baby. Pearl and I got every dime out of them fucking tricks tonight.”
“Thanks, girls,” I said as I caught a nod hello from Asian Pearl. I walked up to the small bar and downed my shot. Asian Pearl and Little Rosie’s cash-filled matchbooks had been placed next to their drinks. I slid them both toward me and put them in my pocket.
Irritated by Carmen’s cold reception, I walked over and snatched the pool stick out of her hand. Carmen’s green eyes locked on me. Her voice was laced with contempt. “Nice of you to make it.”
“I had business to take care of. I booked a show date for you and Phyllis to turn together,” I said matter-of-factly, holding her stare.
Carmen looked confused for a moment, then quickly turned away.
“Fuck you!” she hissed through her red lips.
Suddenly, I slapped her. It came out of nowhere. The slap was hard enough to sting, but not to bruise. Thank God I was smart enough not to damage her face. Like everyone else on the street, we both knew you never damaged the merchandise.
“I’m not doing it!” she defiantly shouted, throwing her head back.
“What did you say, bitch?” I demanded intent on saving face in front of my other whores.
“You turn it, motherfucker!” she yelled at me.
Carmen spat in my face. Stunned, then furious, I grabbed her by the hair and pulled her toward me.
“Fuck you, bitch,” I whispered in a cold rage.
Lust darted across Carmen’s hostile stare, betraying a strong sexual jolt.
To teach her a lesson, I slapped her again, grabbed her and bent her over the pool table. Pinning her face down against the green felt of the pool table, I lifted up her skirt and ripped off her panties. I unzipped my trousers and pulled out my dildo, secure in its strap. I rammed my dick up into her, slamming it into her pussy.
With each forceful thrust I said, “I’m going to teach you a lesson, bitch, a good lesson bitch!” As I pushed her head down, I stuck my cock deep in her. I arched
her back by pulling her long hair wrapped in my hand. I fucked her hard, fast and deep, slamming her face down with each thrust.
Pinned down, Carmen looked at the other whores through the strands of her hair. We both saw the envy and lust in their eyes as they stared. Carmen knew I wanted to humiliate her by raping her in front of my whores.
Defiantly, she glared up at me and grinned. She turned to Little Rosie and Pearl with a small smile on her face. “Eat your heart out, bitches! This is a real butch you’re watching, honeys! She can fuck me in the ass if she feels like it. I’ll take it because she loves me. Look closely, Rosie, because this is the only time you’ll see passion from Jesse. She services your tired ass by fucking you. It’s just business, bitch!”
Furious, I grabbed her shoulders and slammed her hard. As I pressed her face harder into the table, Carmen continued, “Watch closely, cunts! I own this daddy!”
I bent down and whispered into Carmen’s ear, “What did you say?”
Carmen repeated, “Watch closely, cunts! This whore owns this daddy. Ladies, the real whore on the streets is the pimp!”
I was slapped by the truth. Carmen intuitively knew that the power I possessed over her was just an illusion. Like any woman, a prostitute or not, she was the real power broker in our relationship. Carmen was the realtor of our emotional property and her femininity owned the deed. The dominance that I displayed as her pimp didn’t bother her in the slightest.
My moment of clarity deflated my rage. Straightening myself up, I stood silent in disgrace. Carmen got off the pool table and calmly adjusted her skirt. She brushed her hair back and faced me.
Without a word, she reached for my hand. Surprised a second time, I looked at her. Lending me her strength, she took me by the hand and led me towards the door. She stopped in front of Little Rosie and Asian Pearl.
“What the fuck are you looking at!” Carmen demanded.
Our mutual embarrassment fused us as we fled down the steps. Loud music and psychedelic lights met us on Chuckkers dance floor. Letting go of my hand, she warned, “Don’t fucking talk to me!” Carmen darted into the ladies’ room.