Lights! Camera! Dissatisfaction...

by Kim Cayer

  I’d usually see them twice a week, and sometimes for lunch too. I’d become a caffeine addict. We never made any plans to meet. Usually I’d get the urge to go there and when I arrived, Andre and Petie were usually there already. Muriel had no choice; she worked there. I offered to pick up the tab once in an earlier meet and since that day, I never had to offer again. They just let me pick it up every time. Mind you, they didn’t abuse my pocketbook, but then how many donuts can you eat? And the coffee was free after the first cup. I didn’t mind spending money on them; I was happy now to have three more friends. And where a night with Raunda would cost me $120, the guys usually ran me about 10 bucks.

  Life at the donut shop was pretty laid back. No one ever did much more than read the daily newspapers then talk about what they’d just read. After a while, Andre and Petie’d go off in a corner to discuss “next day’s business”. That’s when Muriel and I would girl talk. “What kind of business are they in?” I’d asked Muriel.

  “Your guess is as good as mine,” she replied. “Hey, like the new watch Petie gave me? It says Gucci but it really ain’t. It’s a genuine fake.” Muriel displayed a watch encrusted in diamonds. If Muriel was wearing it, it had to be a fake. But sheeesh, Petie kept giving Muriel such nice gifts. One day it was a blouse, the next day a hind rump of beef.

  I was starting to develop a little crush on Petie. I don’t know why; maybe I felt sorry for him. He so adored Muriel, but Muriel and Andre were making it, and sooner or later, it was going to get to Petie. I offered myself as a substitute for his affections. “Petie, why don’t you and I just kind of…go out sort of…alone one of these nights?”

  Muriel and Andre had gotten up to go to the washroom together. I saw the yearning look in Petie’s eyes and knew the time was right to strike. Petie stammered, “You and me? Go out? Alone?”

  He put it quite succinctly. “Yes,” I said, warming up to the idea, “we could go to a nice restaurant or…”

  “I can’t go out with you!” Petie yelled for all in the shop to hear. “You’re one of them dykes!”

  “Petie, shush! I’m not gay!”

  “Yes, you are,” Petie insisted.

  “I am not!” I denied.

  “You are,” Petie emphatically informed me. “Andre said so.”

  “Oh, if Andre says so, then it must be true,” I replied sarcastically.

  “Yes!” Petie agreed. “Andre said he hasn’t gone to bed with you yet and you made no moves on him, so you must be gay.”

  I haven’t gone to bed with him YET? Was I destined to? Oh, that thought was scarier than going to work every day. Even with the three-inch heels on the cowboy boots he wore, pants always tucked in, I was still taller. I’d TURN gay just to avoid copulation with Andre.

  “Petie, forget I asked,” I said. “For the record though, I’m not gay. I just thought that since Andre’s with Muriel…”

  “I KNOW that!” Petie shot in, putting on a brave front.

  “Well, I just thought we could do something together,” I petulantly finished.

  “We are. We’re drinkin’ coffee,” Petie said as if I was missing a card in my deck. At that moment Muriel walked out of the bathroom, squealing as she dodged Andre’s butt-pinching fingers. Petie’s attention was diverted.

  Yeah. That was all we ever did. Drink coffee. I took a good look at Petie and wondered why I wanted to go out with him. He had three huge zits running down the front of his nose, his teeth looked a bit furry and there were bits of donut in his hair. I glanced into my coffee cup. Just a sip left. Then I knew for a fact that I would get up, walk to the counter and have Muriel pour me another one. Then I’d drink that cup. These guys were boring. That’s why I asked Petie out; because I was bored.

  I stood up. “I think I’ll go home.”

  “So soon?” Muriel asked.

  “I wanted to ask you if Sebrings needed some spare DVD players,” Andre said.

  “Stick around, I’ll treat ya to a jam-filled,” Petie offered.

  Why, they cared! I sat back down, a goofy grin spreading across my face. I was gonna come back here more often.

  * * *

  One night at the donut shop, Andre was bitching about how thirsty he was for a beer. He had a small fit when Muriel poured him another cup of coffee. “Enough already! If I wanted another cup, I’d ask for one. I want a beer.” I could tell he hurt Muriel’s feelings, so she was moody after that. “Petie, give me a cigarette,” Andre ordered. He was always bumming smokes off Petie.

  “Sorry, Andre, I’m all out,” Petie had to admit. He was broke too.

  “Come on, Muriel, lend me 20 bucks out of the till,” Andre said.

  “I can’t do that. I’ll lose my job,” Muriel snapped.

  “Come on, I’ll pay you back tomorrow. What’s 20 bucks?” Andre kept trying to coax her but Muriel refused.

  After a while, no one felt much like talking. The few hundred dollars I had in my wallet started feeling like a few million. I thought I’d lose my newfound buddies if I didn’t offer to share it with them in some small way. “Andre, if you want, I could give you some money for a beer.”

  “Great! Come on, Petie. Let’s get outta here,” Andre was quick to reply.

  I upped the offer. “Look, if you take me with you, I’ll treat.”

  “That’s awfully nice of you, Alice, but I don’t know if you want to go where we’ll be going,” Andre said. “Why don’t you just stay and keep Muriel company.”

  “Because it’s boring here!” I retorted, then gave Muriel an apologetic look.

  “Honey, I know it’s boring. But I don’t think you want to be goin’ with the boys. Stay here and I’ll treat you to anything you want,” Muriel kindly offered.

  Anything I wanted? At Little Shop of Donuts, that meant I might have my fifth donut of the night or my twelfth coffee. And what did she want me hanging around for? Was she scared I’d try and pick Andre up? Hardly. I was starting to think I had my crush on Petie again. That’s what I really wanted…a little lovin’. Sure I had a few friends now, but I was still sleeping alone. Not that that was a new experience. Suffice to say womanly urges were starting to overcome me. I was dying for a little kiss even.

  “OK then. Forget I made any offers,” I said, standing up. “See you guys around.”

  Andre couldn’t let this financial gain slip through his fingers. “Alright, you can come with us. But I’m tellin’ ya, I’m real thirsty. See ya, Muriel. We’re goin’ across the street.”

  “Sure,” Muriel quietly said. “See you.”

  Andre stopped to look at her for a moment. I think he felt guilty about leaving her behind. “Maybe I’ll see you later,” he said. “You still on the rag?”

  I was embarrassed for Muriel but she only nodded. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow then.” With that, Andre ushered us out.

  I was excited. Right on! A night on the town! I looked across the street to see what bar we were going to. There were only two; a gay bar called The Backdoor and another bar called Mascots that advertised ‘Racy Girls! Continuous Action!’ The latter is where Andre led us. He stopped us at the entrance and puffed himself up. I could tell he imagined himself a big man. “OK, guys, no drooling, got that?” We both nodded, although I have no idea why I did. “Alice, I don’t want you cramping my style. Let me have some money right now.”

  “Sure,” I complied. “How much?”

  Andre looked at Petie and did some figuring. “Let’s see…six beers each, a few table dances…tips…got a couple hundred on you?”

  I handed it over and we entered. It was pitch black in there and I stood still for a few minutes, letting my eyes adjust to the light. When they did, I could see men looking at me. I glanced at Petie, who was enthralled by the stage show. Andre was already settling himself down at a table and I ran to join him.

  I wasn’t the only girl in the place. There were about twenty others, most of them naked. So I was in a strip joint. I tried to make the best of it. A song came over th
e speakers and I said, “Oh, I just love this song!”

  “If you wanna dance,” Andre noted, “there’s only one place to do it.”

  Just then a stunning girl walked by. She had on a G-string and a bra with her boobs poking out through the middle. She was lugging some kind of stool on her shoulder. Andre went into spasms.

  “Petie! Didja see her? What a slut! I’d like to stick her up with my piece,” Andre said. For some reason, both my dates had become quite crude ever since we’d entered the bar. “Shall we have her do a little dance in our pants?”

  “I’ve got such a boner just looking at her,” Petie declared.

  “Petie!” I exclaimed. He was rapidly losing favor in my eyes. But he ignored me. The same girl walked by again and Andre grabbed her by the panties, sticking a bill into the elastic.

  She merely stopped, made sure it was real money, then put her stool down in front of our table. She stepped on top of it and began her dance. I tried to push my chair back but I was crowded in by other men taking advantage of our purchase. The dancer was positioned right in front of my face, gyrating to the music. I don’t want to be rude, and she was very pretty, but she had the worst vaginal odor. I simply couldn’t help but notice; I swear I was no more than three inches away. And what was that? A crab? I leaned my head way back and the space was filled by Andre’s head, making sure he got his money’s worth of visual excitement. And damn if he wasn’t drooling.

  The song ended and our girl got off her pedestal. She hooked up her G-string, picked up her stool and was gone without a word. Andre looked at both of us excitedly. “Didja like that, Petie? How ’bout you, Alice?”

  “Andre,” Petie confided in a whisper. “I came.”

  That did it. I no longer wanted Petie. “I’m going to play some pinball games,” I said. As I stood up, a dead ringer for Al Pacino as he looked in Scarface passed by. We had a deep look into each other’s eyes and I’m sure something passed between us. With him, I think the look was “What the hell is a nice girl like you doing here?” I think my look said, “I’m so lonely. Won’t you fuck me?” I scurried off to the pinball games but not before I heard Andre bellow, “Silvio! I haven’t seen you in years! Where the hell you bin?”

  My luck was terrible at the pinball machine. My highest score was 3000 and I needed 1,000,000 to win a free game. It was cheaper than a table dance though, and then I gave my head a shake when that thought entered my mind. Why was I still so hung up on money? I kept forgetting how rich I was now. Old habits are hard to break, I guess.

  Andre came up to me and watched me play a game. I was deep in concentration. I could tell he wanted something but he took his time asking. Finally he casually said, “I think Silvio likes you.”

  My heart skipped a beat; the ball went through the chute. “What gives you that idea?” I asked, hoping it was Silvio who gave him that idea. I shot another ball into the playing area.

  “He likes big tits,” Andre replied. I risked a quick glance at him, but his look told me he was still buttering me up.

  I went back to my game; this round was going better than my last few games. Barely listening to Andre, I asked, “How do you know him?”

  “I used to see him around a lot,” Andre replied. “You know, on the street. I haven’t seen him for a while though. He was doing time in a pen in Utah.”

  Andre said that last line as if he’d just told me Silvio spent the last few years selling shoes in Idaho. “What!?” I screeched. The ball slipped through the chute again and my game was over. I gave the machine a slap.

  Andre rushed to reassure me. “Oh, it was nothing. Just a little indecent exposure charge.”

  “That’s not nothing,” I replied. “That’s pretty sick.”

  “Not when you know the story, Alice,” Andre patiently said. “See, he just came from work – he’s the deejay here – and when you see so much nudity around, it can affect you. So one day he left and…uh…I guess the atmosphere from the strip club was still in him and…well…his peter was hanging out of his pants and he didn’t see anything wrong with it. But I guess some frigid bitch did and she called the cops. It was really a bum rap, and he had to go to jail for two years ‘cuz of her.”

  Did I buy that story? I looked at Andre with an exaggerated questioning look on my face. “He wants to meet you,” Andre said. OK, I bought it.

  “Really?” I asked. “Now?”

  “Yeah,” Andre said.

  “Alright, I guess so.” I was suddenly shy.

  “‘’cept, Alice, Petie and I need to ask you a favor.”

  “What?”

  “Do you have much money left on you?”

  “A bit,” I hesitantly replied.

  “Do you have another 200?” Andre hopefully asked. “Petie and I…well…we made a couple dates with some strippers. We need more money though.”

  I handed over two c-notes, pretending that I was paying for the introduction service. I knew I wouldn’t get paid back. “Where you taking them?” I asked.

  “Oh, just to the dressing room. This should buy us at least 15 minutes. We’ll meet you back at the table. Silvio’s there now.” With that, Andre took off for his rendezvous.

  I slowly walked back to the table. What was I going to say to Silvio? I practiced smooth lines. “So how was Utah?” No, stay away from jail talk. “How’d you get that ear-to-mouth scar?” No, he might be sensitive about that. “Been working here long?” No, because then he might want to talk about my job. I decided to just wing it.

  “Hi,” I said, sliding into my seat.

  Silvio was watching one of the dancers. He barely glanced at me. “Hi.”

  That was the extent of our conversation. I was starting to feel like I had been had. Minutes later, my friends (ha!) returned. Andre was in a jubilant mood; Petie looked like he had been crying.

  “So, how’re you two lover-birds makin’ out?” Andre asked cutely. I gave him an evil look. We weren’t making out.

  “Fine,” Silvio replied, the liar!

  “Well, I’m fuckin’ tired, or…,” he leered at Petie, “…tired of fuckin’!” They both had a good laugh over that. “We’re gonna go. Comin’, Alice?”

  No, I was going to sit in a strip joint by myself. Of course I was coming. I looked at Silvio and threw off a “See ya.”

  “How ’bout tomorrow night? Meet me here at midnight,” Silvio replied.

  I was thrown back into my Nervous Nellie state. Midnight was pretty late. And this guy was an ex-con. And I’d have to walk into the strip joint by myself. And I…

  And I was horny. “See you tomorrow,” I agreed. I didn’t even mind when Andre said he needed money for cab fare.

  * * *

  Silvio became my steady boyfriend. He made it very clear that I wasn’t his steady girlfriend though. Really, I barely liked the guy but he was nice enough to let me take him to dinners and movies so I kept him.

  We both knew the real reason I wanted him in the first place. Sadly, that became the worst part of our relationship. Our first date, when I met him at the strip joint, was so bizarre. I mainly hung out with him and when he got a break from deejaying, he said to me, “Wanna go fuck in the office?”

  I was a little insulted, but I didn’t want to lose him so soon, so I made a suggestion. “Why don’t we go back to my place?”

  “Because I only get 15 minutes for a break,” Silvio replied.

  I didn’t want him thinking I was a prude but I just wasn’t that free n’ easy. Nevertheless, I allowed him to lead me to the office. I had just taken my top off, still trying to think of a way to get out of the situation, when the club’s manager walked in.

  “For fuck sake, Silvio! I’m not running a motel here! If I catch you boffing any more girls in here, you’re fired!” The manager was livid.

  I wanted to save Silvio’s job. “We didn’t boff, sir,” I said.

  “Just get the hell out of here!” the manager ordered. “I got work to do.”

  I hustled out, st
ill buttoning my blouse. I bumped into a stripper who grabbed me by the shoulders. They’re all pretty tough chicks and I cowered. “Oh, good!” the stripper smiled. “You did him already!” Just then Silvio edged his way past us and the lady relaxed her hold on me. Her smile disappeared and with a muttered expletive, she walked into the office.

  So Silvio ended up coming to my apartment that night. I was ready for him, ravenous even. I was a wild woman. Three hours later, he still couldn’t get an erection. I tried not to let it bother me; he probably had some deep, hidden reason.

  “Patty, you just don’t seem to excite me,” Silvio said.

  “Sorry, RICHARD,” I pouted.

  “Oh, didn’t I call you Patty? Sorry,” Silvio apologized.

  “Yeah, you DID call me Patty! My name’s ALICE,” I replied. I wanted to add, “And who is this Patty anyways?” but I didn’t think we’d progressed far enough into our relationship.

  “Right. Alice. You told me that, didn’t you? Well, I’m gonna split,” Silvio said, getting dressed.

  “Oh! Spend the night! We don’t have to do anything,” I begged, as if we hadn’t been trying. I became a sniveling fishwife. I just wanted to lie beside a man. True, I had to wake up in two hours for work, and I didn’t trust him enough to let him keep sleeping in my apartment, but I didn’t want our date to end just yet.

  “No, I’m gonna go,” Silvio decided.

  “Will I see you again?” I asked, right out of a movie.

  “I don’t know. I wanna get laid, you know,” I was informed.

  “So do I!” I hastened to say, letting him know I was putty in his hands.

  “Well then, we’ll have to work at this problem we have.”

  “I’ll work! Anything you say!” Putty. Silly, silly putty.

  So sex with Silvio became a constant experiment. Sometimes I got lucky and was awarded coital bliss. That is, if I could reach it in the 30 seconds it took Silvio. The best method, we’d discovered, was when I played ‘Pedestrian’. I’d pretend to walk past this strange man in a raincoat, and he’d flash me, and I’d shriek. It worried me that he had once been arrested for this type of behavior but at least we were keeping it off the streets. My sexy lingerie had no effect on him, nor did my striptease. Once I let him take Polaroids of me and he still couldn’t get it up, so we didn’t try that again. Mainly because he wouldn’t give me the photos back. Now, all this isn’t my idea of good sex; hell, I love the missionary position. It was just the price I had to pay in the hope of sex period.