Thursday, December 31, 2015

New Year's Eve.

New Year's Eve.

You'd be surprised at how many young women, drunk and jubilant in their party dresses, will believe that you are indeed their Uber Driver when you pull up next to them on the street.

Even if you are driving a White Van With No Windows In The Back.

Happy New Year....

I am Laslo.

Wednesday, December 30, 2015

"Sure... yeah. I do. Shovel."

There is a particularly beautiful girl walking down the street, ear buds in, on her phone, oblivious.

I am following in The White Van With No Windows In The Back, casual, just observing her beauty in the Illusion of Innocence, when I notice there is another White Van directly behind me, doing the same thing.

This is a major breach of Stalker Protocol: you do not try to poach someone else's find. It Just Isn't Done.

He is hoping I will lose my Nerve, that she will take notice of me and I will then turn down a side street like THAT is where I was intending to go, Honest. He is Testing Me: the Girl turns a corner, I turn the corner, he turns the corner.

We come to a Red Light, and I put the Van in Park, get out, and go to his driver-side window, tap the glass.

"You're making a Mistake," I tell him as he rolls down the window.

"I have every right to follow that girl as you do."

"You're an amateur -- I can smell it on you."

"I ain't no rookie," he says, as beads of sweat begin to form on his forehead.

"I bet the license plates on your van are actually your real plates."


"Your real plates, connected to your name and home address. You didn't even bother to swap out the plates before you started touring."


"Do you have a shovel in the back?"

"Sure... yeah. I do. Shovel."

"No you don't. You're not ready, my friend: you're Not Ready."

"Maybe I need to rethink a few things."

"That would be a good start. I'll even give you a piece of advice."


"Practice tying the rope in knots. You're never as good tying knots in the Heat of the Moment as you think you are."


"We understand each other."

"Yeah. I understand."

"Good," I say. "I am going to have to slash one of your tires, though. There always have to be Consequences."

"But I don't have a spare tire."

"You really aren't ready, are you?" I say, shaking my head.

I make note of his license plate number -- it may be helpful one day -- and I get back in the Van. The Girl is Gone. It happens. Plenty of Fish in the Sea, etc etc.

I head out to a Starbucks a few blocks away. It is always good to check out a barista or two. You never know.

I am Laslo.

Tuesday, December 29, 2015

Love Poem three

Our Paths cross


Two trails in the Woods

And the Autumn Trees Aspire

Branches Bare

to the Cold and Clear Above

Rape is Too Cruel

a Word to Describe

These New Feelings

Between Us

I am Sorry

About the Bruises

My Love.

I am Laslo.

Love Poem Two

Your Voice

An Instrument

Played by Angels

I can still Hear It

Even with your Head

in the Refrigerator.

I am Laslo.

Love Poem One

Yellow Flowers in a

Pale Green Vase

Window Sill, Winter

You Sit Pensive

Warm Tea with Milk

I Want to See

Your Butthole.

I am Laslo.

Monday, December 28, 2015

"Negro blood is very different than that from White Folk, Mandingo. That's Science."

Sarah's mind once again slipped wistfully into the past, to that One Hot Summer in 1957 in Madison County...

"Miss Sarah, can I asks you a question?"

"Of course, my sweet Mandingo."

"I heard in town that the Police are preparing for Riots. What's that about?"

"Well, Mandingo, in Little Rock, Arkansas the Yankee Courts have demanded that a Negro be allowed to go to school with whites."

"That doesn't sound so bad, Miss Sarah."

"That only doesn't sound bad if you want the Foundations of This Great Country torn apart, Mandingo. Once you start letting the Negroes in everywhere there will only be Violence and the Destruction of Proper Morality."

"Well, that does sound bad indeed, Miss Sarah."

"My sweet Mandingo, the Negro longs for the Jungle, and they will try to make a Jungle everywhere they go, if you let them. That's Science."

"So the Police think the White People in Town might riot?"

"Oh, my silly Mandingo, of course not. They preparing for a riot by the Negroes."

"But I'm the only Negro in town, Miss Sarah."

"You can't be too careful, Mandingo. I mean, I know you don't want to riot, but your Jungle Blood could get too Hot and then who knows what could happen."

"That would surely be a shame, Miss Sarah. I didn't even know I have the Jungle Blood."

"Negro blood is very different than that from White Folk, Mandingo. That's Science."

"I always kind of thought it looked the same."

"That's why Science has Microscopes, my Mandingo: that's why Science has Microscopes..."

I am Laslo.

Sunday, December 27, 2015

Obviously, he did not understand the Importance of my Position.

Coral shows up for work today, and she is wearing a long-sleeved shirt, buttoned up to the collar. Which means she and her boyfriend have had another fight.

Working Girls getting beaten by their boyfriends is a pretty common experience in the business, but visible damage can curtail transactions with the prospective Patrons.

Sure, some of them will overlook a swollen cheek or lip, especially if they are getting anal, but Obvious Damage can put a Girl on the shelf for days, which affects economic liquidity in a negative manner; Pimps don't like negative effects on their economic liquidity.

So I tell Coral to take off the shirt, expecting to see some bruises, and sure enough there are bruises -- but the bigger problem is the array of cigarette burns on her arms and breasts. She could be on the shelf for a month or more now, and only come back being able to charge half her usual rate, even after the scabs are gone. This, obviously, severely impacts my long-term financial planning.

I had visited her boyfriend before, and explained that, when you get involved with a Working Girl, you can't then take out on her your anger that she is a Working Girl. Accept that she sucks a dozen cocks a day and her ass drips sperm, or move the Hell along. Obviously, he did not understand the Importance of my Position.

I pay another visit to the Boyfriend, and we have a frank, honest discussion: it is Important that, together, we reach an Understanding. And then I proceed to break his jaw and burn his cock and balls with a menthol cigarette. I also tell him that he owes me five K in Damages, plus interest; I figure he'll leave Town within a day.

Poor Coral: she has certainly made some poor Life Choices. It is a Good Thing that I am here to look after her.

I am Laslo.

She tried to believe in a more innocent time, where parties just had presents and balloons and cake.

As she stood in line waiting for her turn at the center of the room Jennifer began to have second thoughts.

"What am I doing here?" she asked herself as the next girl in line kneeled on the tarp. Men -- dozens of them, they seemed to be everywhere -- stood around naked, massing their cocks in anticipation of a fresh face: it was a Bukkake Party, and Jennifer was now third in line.

The current girl smiled at the beginning when the first load of semen shot upon her chin, but the smile began to fade when the fourth man ejaculated into her eye. Now she began to noticeably tremble as men five, six, and seven ejaculated more-or-less simultaneously: semen dripped from her hair, her cheeks, her nose, her chin, and she could not open her eyes without that painful thick sting.

She struggled to her feet, and the next girl took her place: Jennifer was now second in line, and she could feel the thready pulse of panic begin to constrict her chest. If only someone would come through that door -- anyone -- and put a stop to this, but even the faintest wisp of hope blew away as she now was next in line.

Then: her turn. She felt as if it was an out-of-body experience as she watched herself kneel from above, helpless, the men with their erect cocks beginning to circle her. Jennifer's out-of-body presence became her twelve-year-old self, as she tried to believe in a more innocent time, where parties just had presents and balloons and cake.

As the first man ejaculated upon her face there was a commotion at the entrance: a group of Chinese Gang Youth had broken in the door, and were now demanding the wallets from all the men. Cocks grew flaccid and shriveled as, one by one, the naked men fished their wallets from their pants with trembling hands and gave them over to the Chinese Gangsters.

It was as if her desperate prayer was answered -- Someone, Somewhere, was Really Listening! --and Jennifer took a deep cleansing breath.

Except she then noticed the Chinese Gangster Youth begin to massage their cocks through their pants; then, the sound of a zipper. And another. And another. She knew now that she would never be able to hear the sound of a Zipper without Fear, ever again.

"Me go first!" the Leader of the Chinese Youth Gang said firmly. "Me go first at skinny white lady."

Jennifer shivered as she coldly realized: things were going to get much worse before they got better...

I am Laslo.

Add the Meth, and things get messy, fast.

It had been a long day of keeping the Pimp Hand Strong when Tiffany tells me she's giving up The Life: she is going to go Straight and work at a strip joint and give only the occasional blow-job in the parking-lot for money.

I tell her that this is not a good idea: when you work at a strip club you're now hanging with a bad crowd, and there'll be no one like me to keep her Safe. She replies that they have bouncers, she'll be safe. 

Stupid girl: bouncers won't do what I will do when a patron gets out of line. Has a bouncer ever driven around town, putting suspicious black plastic garbage sacks in inconspicuous dumpsters? Not at the wage they're paid. Hell, half the time the bouncer is the one who becomes the girl's stalker -- add the Meth, and things get messy, fast.

Now, this shouldn't be a Big Deal -- there are plenty of other girls out there that I can turn, easy -- but once one Girl tries to go Legit the other Girls in the Stable start to get themselves Ideas, and then the Trouble starts.

Usually the quickest way to dissuade such thoughts is for a Stripper to be found behind a Denny's with her throat cut and her fingernails pulled out -- word gets around fast and Girls get humble -- but I decide on a gentler route: I tell her most obsessive patrons where she now lives, and let them know I will certainly not be there to protect her.

I give it a week: she'll be back.

I am Laslo.

Saturday, December 26, 2015

"Jesus was as white as white can be, my Mandingo."

Sarah's mind once again slipped wistfully into the past, to that One Hot Summer in 1957 in Madison County...

"Miss Sarah, I has a question."

Yes, my sweet Mandingo?"

"Mandingo was a name given to me by white folk when I was little. I don't want to be Mandingo no more."

"So what would you like?"

"I like maybe being Paul."

"But Mandingo, Paul is a Biblical Name."

"What about Mark, then?"

"Silly, that's a Biblical name, too. Negroes shouldn't have names from the Bible, because all the Saints in the Bible were White."

"Jesus was white too, Miss Sarah?"

"Jesus was as white as white can be, my Mandingo."

"What about Moses then? I wouldn't mind being named Moses."

"That's better, my Mandingo, because Moses wasn't white but a Jew -- but he was an Imporrtant Jew, not someone to have a Negro named after."

"What about Thomas?"

"He was Doubting, but he was still White and a Friend of Jesus."

"So what CAN I name myself, Miss Sarah?

"My dear Mandingo, I think the only names available to you are Roscoe and Rufus."

"Roscoe and Rufus?"

"Roscoe and Rufus."

"Thanks, Miss Sarah, but then I guess I'll just keep my name as it is..."

"Oh Mandingo, you can't get your feelings hurt so easily. Being able to get your feelings hurt is left to White People..."

I am Laslo.

Friday, December 25, 2015

"I'm driving to the stable to feed my pony. Do you like ponies?"

LInes That Shouldn't Work Anymore But Still Do.

"Has anyone ever told you that you could be a model?"

"Can you get in my van with me and help me find my little lost puppy?"

"Just because I don't play music doesn't mean I'm not an Ice Cream Truck."

"I'm driving to the stable to feed my pony. Do you like ponies?"

"I'm going to a special "Little Mermaid" Party. You'd like to meet "The Little Mermaid," wouldn't you?"

"Your mother is in the Hospital, and I'm here to bring you to her."

"Your mother is in Jail, and she needs your help."

"Can you guess what I have in my pocket?"

"I'm not a stranger. I know your Uncle."

"If you come here I will tell you a Big Secret."

"Do you like hand-puppets?"

"I'll give you five whole dollars for your panties."

"You're too small. There is no way this orange ball-gag could ever fit into your mouth, I bet."

There are others.

I am Laslo.