Savage Tales

glass. It could have been you on a certain day. In the right circumstances. Are you married?"
    "No," he said. "Divorced."
    "Ah, see? There you have it."
    "I would never have – done that to anyone."
    "Maybe. And maybe that makes you a better person than me. Anyway, I'm not sure why I wanted to talk to you. Thanks for the coffee. Have a good one."
    "Wait."
    "Yeah?"
    "Do you have a job?"
    "I'm doing fine. I'll be okay."
    "All right, I was just asking. But… if you need help, I might be able to get you a job."
    "Washing windows?"
    "No, in our office. We're looking for a clerk."
    "I think it would violate my parole even talking to you."
    "Well, think it over. I'm sure we could keep it on the hush. I'm never in the office except once a month or so."

    I'd been sleeping at Rick's and it was getting old, him always bringing whores and his wino pals around. I was becoming desperate, working at a Burger King and going mad. I didn't want to. I didn't want to reach out to a man that had stolen three years of my life. But I was going crazy and any change would be better than this.
    So I waited outside his place again one morning.
    "So you changed your mind?" he said.
    "Don't rub it in."
    "We can stop by the office this morning. I'll let them know your situation. I think they'll be okay with it, if I vouch for you."
    And it worked out somehow, impossibly. Nobody connected the dots and I got the job. After being there a few weeks Fred (the window cleaner's name) invited me to his house for dinner to see how I'd been doing. It had a hallucinogenic twist to it that slapped me in the face, all of this, and I couldn't look away from the car crash of it all.

    The surprise opened the door, his daughter. She was blond and beautiful, circa nineteen.
    "Am I in the right place?" I said.
    "Dad, he's here," she said.
    She took my coat and a turkey aroma filled the air and it was a thousand times superior than the microwave cooking I'd been doing.
    "Welcome," said Fred.
    And it all happened after-school-special style, with Fred toasting my new life, and his daughter a little overpleasant beyond any right I had to expect. At some point as I poured gravy I felt her foot rubbing against my leg, and an erection shot up in my pants. I'd forgotten what it was like to be touched by a woman.
    I slipped her my number as I left. I wasn't sure how Fred would be with it. It seemed better to keep it on the sly.
    Within a week we were fucking religiously, Agatha (horrible name) and I. And I don't know why I did it. But I got in touch with a friend of Rick's named "Famous" Amos. Supposedly a coke dealer/rapper, a gold-toothed animal. I told him about Agatha and what I had in mind.
    So one day I'm at home and "Famous" Amos comes in. He didn't quite believe me and seemed very suspicious, but I told him it'd be all good. He went into the closet.
    And a few minutes later Agatha arrived. We had a mediocre dinner and I talked loud enough for Amos to hear in the closet. Then we got down to it.
    I told her I wanted to try something kinky. She was willing. She was always submissive, rebellious to avenge herself on her father.
    I tied her up to the bed frame and blindfolded her, taped her mouth. I went at her for a while till I spilled it in her, then kissed her goodbye.
    I went to the closet and let Amos out. I showed him what awaited him, pointing to the bed, and those gol d teeth glistened in the candlelight.
    I patted him on the shoulder, grabbed the duffle bag I'd packed, and closed the door gently behind me, walking to the subway that would take me to the Greyhound station.

ORGASMBREATH

    "We have some bad news, Marsha. Sit down."
    "What is it?"
    "This will be your last film. Your last film with us."
    "What? Why?"
    "It's that time. There's a new breed coming in."
    "I can still pass for 25."
    "They don't want 25. They want 18. They want less than 18, but that's not legal and we've got to draw the line somewhere. I'm sorry. That's the business we're in."
    "I don't care. I don't need you. I'll find work somewhere else."
    "We wish you well. But just a warning: You won't."
    "What's that supposed to mean?"
    "Your name is known."
    "You mean I'm blacklisted. That's what it comes down to."
    "We would never use that word. Let's just say that a ripple has taken effect."
    "You're in the wrong industry for poetry, Frank. Goodbye. Asshole."

    By next Monday she realized that that asshole was right. There'd be no going back for Marsha. Her days in the adult film industry