Sunday, November 8, 2009

Black Shoe Dick

The day started much like any other pile of drek that littered my calendar; with a hangover. I sat in my chair, feeling the destroyed foam seat flake off under the weight of my ass. I took a handful of aspirin and shoved it in my mouth, chewing it like powdered cud. That’s when I heard the door crack. I should have known that by the way the day was going that this sound would soon herald bloodied knuckles and greedy bourbon consumption. But I was in too much of a stupor of pain to give a damn.

She sauntered in, like she owned the place. Her center of gravity was pure heaven, with legs that stretched up to her neck. You could taste her almost instantly, like wine and cheap cigarettes, but even though you knew both would kill you, you kept going back.

She kicked a few of the emptied bottles out of her path, looking at me from under those blond tresses with eyes that would scare a tiger.

"So, remember my sister?" she said in a simple manner that purred right through you like a .45 slug.

"That depends darlin’. If you’re looking for some poor stiff to pin a paternity rap on, you can beat a path out that there door… This Joe’s quicker then that…" I shot back all the while holding my head.
"No actually. Her name is Sally…Sally Kirchman." The blond said cracking half a smile. A smile that seemed out of place on her pretty mug.

"Yea, I do. And I want to thank you for ruining an already crappy morning." "So you do know her…to know her is to hate her. Do you hate her?" She asked drawing in on her cigarette as the sunlight filtered in through the blinds, framing her face like bars of gold.

"Well, I’d spit on her if I could, but I’ve got cotton mouth." I motioned for one of her cancer sticks greedily, which she turned over without violence. "So, did someone finally do the world a favor and plug her one?" I waved for a light.

"No, not yet. You know you shouldn’t smoke. It’s bad for your heart." She lit me.

"No you’re sister was bad for my heart." I kept my eyes on her, even as I took a healthy drag, letting the smoke sting my senses. From this vantage point I was peering down her cleavage and getting intoxicated on her perfume. When I finally locked eyes with her I realized she was watching me the whole time.

"Usually I slap the eyes out of men whom do that…usually…" Her expression didn’t change. This was one lady who was into some rough trade.

"Usually huh? I’ll remember that next time I case your ass," I said, smiling smugly, "but you didn’t come here for a nickel and dime peep show, did you?"

"No, I wanted to get you to kill them. I’m tired of them." She said flatly. "That’s all…"

"Now, I see. You saunter in here, flash some goods, and expect me to hop to. You’re a quality act sister. What’s in it for me?" My eyes started to drift over her form.

"Five hundred. You go in. One day, boom. All done."

"Five hundred thousand, huh? So tell me Miss Killer, what have they done to you and your sister?" Now I was just curious.

"Five hundred thousand? Wait…that’s way too much." Her coolness left her. She was actually confused. "We just have roaches. Aren’t you an exterminator? Sally said so."

I breathed out sharply cutting her off. "No, that’s Hershel down the hall way there. He’s your guy. He kills them bugs…"

"Oh, OK…uh bye…" With that she walked out of the door. Out of my fantasies. Out of my life.

And my fresh new hell for today was just starting…

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