"Soliciting sex for a car ride isn't that big of a deal."
"You're not the one who's going to get a dick up your ass."
"That may be true, baby, but how else are we going to get to New York?" I asked my best friend.
"Well... you could always do this," he began, but I stopped him.
"I'm not risking pregnancy. Plus, that is like, so sexist for you to suggest that I be the prostitute." I flipped my ponytail around. "Just do it, Al. Go for the older guys by themselves. Offer to suck them off first, so you don't freak 'em out."
"You sound like you've done this before. Should I be worried?" He took a quick glance at me, then decided it was better to just get this whole thing over with.
I guess I have some explaining to do. See, you told me to tell you the story of what had happened to me, Alfred, Matthew, and Monica. And really, that is where it starts, with Alfred being a prostitute so we could hitch hike from our puny desert town in west Texas all the way to New York City. Matthew and Alfred are night and day, and brothers. Monica is my other half, my half-sister, actually. Her and Matthew ran away to the Big Apple right after high school, and no one really heard from them.
But Al got a call from Monica saying Mattie was being really weird, and that he needed to come immediately. With me. Being stuck in a rinky-dink little town like ours, and being such 'hooligans' when we were teenagers, there aren't many people willing to hire us. So we're unemployed. And how are we supposed to come up with gas money to drive there ourselves? Or buy plane tickets? The simple solution was to hitchhike.
We had just made into Tennessee when we realized that sex is the key to getting farther. Plus more and more people were turning down me and Al's "Our car is shit and my asshole significant other just left me please take me as far as the junction" gimmick.
Which more or less brings you up to speed on this beginning, where Al sheds his bomber jacket and reveals his tightly fitting white t-shirt. He runs his fingers through his hair and hands me his glasses, patting himself down. "How do I look?" He asks, smiling at me.
"Hot," I blurt out. Oops.
"Great! You too." He reaches over and yanks out my ponytail, splaying my hair over my shoulders. "You can fix your bra, right?"
"Ugh, yeah," I say, reaching down my shirt and bringing my boobs to almost pop out of my shirt. I shove his things in my bag, and sling it over my shoulder. "How do I look?" I grumble.
He smirks at my unconformability. "Totes magotes ready to go-go."
"You did not just say that."
"Lame-o, baby girl."
"Car! Thumb out!" We jut our thumbs in the way traffic is flowing, showing ourselves off as much as possible. The car slows down.
"Can I help you two?" An elderly man calls out the passenger window.
"We're stuck out here, we kinda need a ride as far as you're going, as long as that's along the path to New York." I knew I was going to be stuck with this one. He had that look in his eye.
"What's in New York?"
Al speaks up. "Our brother is sick, we need to get to him as soon as possible."
"We'll do anything," I finish, leaning into the car through the open window.
"I'll take you to Memphis," he says to my cleavage. I open the back door and slide in, leaving Al to the front, just so this guy got the clue that Alfred owned me. He was my pimp, I was his top bitch, there was no separating the two of us.
I tried to make friendly conversation. "What's in Memphis?" I asked him as politely as possible.
"Grandkids trying to make a living," he replied grumpily.
"Sorry for intruding on your life," I said.
"Just shut up, Sweet N' Low." Alfred snapped.
"Yes, Daddy."
The old man chuckled. "You sure got your woman there on a tight leash. Like women should be. This whole feminism thing is ridiculous, you know. Women aren't so lucky now-an-days, you know. Ain't like the '50s anymore, no sir. I was a twenty somethin then, my first wife, you know..." I zoned out of his banter. I could feel my brain cells dying with every passing second of his talk about how women shouldn't have rights.
"Too bad she blew her brains out in the '60s."
Alfred and I shared the same look in the rearview mirror, and the rest of the ride to Memphis was spent in silence, and the blowjob I had to give the guy afterwards was the opposite.