Chapter 4
Grace took me into the living room and introduced me to her girls. Three of them, Janet, Beverly, and Thelma were on the turf. Janet and Thelma were in their early twenties. Both gave me a casual look and said "Hi." Beverly was a lot older, thirty-five, perhaps even older than that.
I sat down on the sofa beside Grace and she explained to me about the hours. All of us had to be here from six in the evening until three in the morning. Those were the heaviest hours. Her joint stayed open 24 hours a day and we were to take turns hustling the light hours. Beverly acted as Madame when Grace wasn't here.
The set-up was a lot different than the one I had left and I wasn't sure if I'd like it or not. At Blanche's, the men paid her and she gave them a little metal disc to give to us. We waited for them in our room.
Here, one of us sat beside the window and when a man went by, we would motion at him. If he came in, Grace would have us line up and the guy could pick the girl he wanted. The girl and the customer would discuss what the guy wanted and prices in her room.
We waited. It's funny about waiting in a cathouse. It's a lot different than waiting for a bus, or a dinner, or when I was at home, for a date to come after me. It's a different kind of waiting, a feeling entirely its own, a special kind of waiting. It's probably the most lonesome waiting in the world.
I remember how I used to wait at Blanche's and this was the same feeling. It makes you feel good when a man does show up because then you're not waiting any more. The worst nights are the ones when they don't show up. It sent me down into the blues when I was at Blanche's. As I sat there beside Grace and waited, I glanced around me.
There was a juke-box against one wall and I watched the colored bubbles rise to the surface of the tubes. There was a cigarette and a coke machine in the hall. Janet was sprawled out in a chair, idly turning the pages of a movie magazine and Thelma was staring out the window. The clock on the mantel sliced off the minutes like its brass pendulum was a knife.
Thelma leaned forward, smiled, and tapped on the window. I could see the man stop. He looked at her, then at the girl next door, and started up our walk. Thelma walked over, unhooked the screen, and held it open for him.
"Come on in, Honey," she said, smiling at him. "My name is Thelma."
"How much does it cost?" He gave us a brief glance.
"We discuss prices in our rooms, Honey," Thelma said. "You just pick the girl you want a date with. We all charge the same."
"Let's go," he said.
She took him by the arm and led him to her room. Grace motioned for Janet to take the chair by the window. Beverly asked me where I was from and where I had hustled before. I answered her briefly. A couple of guys dressed in work clothes came in together. One took Janet and the other picked me.
"You new here?" he said when I closed the door. "I just started," I answered. "I've hustled other places though."
He laid a ten dollar bill on the dresser and unzipped his pants. I knew he would be an easy date to hustle. He'd be gentle, the way I liked for men to be.
I put his ten dollars in my shoe and let him have the chair to sit on while he undressed. I pulled off my dress, slip, and panties, and lay down on the bed. There was a shelf on the wall beside the bed. I took down the roll of paper towels and ripped off two to protect the sheet.
There were vacant moments while he finished taking off his clothes. I didn't look at him, but I knew he was looking me over. I thought about the books I had read, about how a woman is supposed to hate prostitution and how shameful ifs supposed to be. How women have had to be forced into this business.
Here I was. A nice girl from a respectable family and no one had to force me. I didn't mind doing it with men I'd never seen before, and I didn't mind asking for money. I didn't feel ashamed to do these things or feel ashamed after it was over. I didn't mind having the reputation of a prostitute. I tried to tell myself that there was a reason for all this, but another little voice inside me pointed out that I wasn't the only whore on this street. So I just shrugged my shoulders and reached for the vaseline when he got into bed with me.
I held him close, my cheek against his, and I smiled every time he raised up to look at me. In a few minutes, it was over.
"My name is Wanda, and you be sure and come see me again. If I'm busy-" I wrinkled up my nose at him, "you just wait, will you?"
"Sure, I will," he paused and licked his lips. "Is it all right if I use the back door going out?"
"Sure, Honey," I answered.
I took him into the kitchen and told him good-by again when I let him out the back door. It gave me a funny feeling when he asked to use the back door. He hadn't been ashamed to come in here or to sleep with me, yet he was ashamed that he had done business with a prostitute. He had been afraid someone might see him here.
It doesn't make me mad for a guy to tell me that he can't be seen with me or for him to sneak in or out the back way. It just gives me a funny feeling inside. I returned to the parlor.
Now that I had turned a trick I didn't feel so self-conscious in front of the other girls. I got there just as two men were coming in the door. One picked me, the other went with Thelma. My date was almost the same as the first one, except he made a comment on the weather and didn't mind going out the front door. I told him what I had told the first one-my name is Wanda and please visit me again.
When I hooked the front screen door after him, I was the only girl in the parlor. I took a chair beside the window and tried to hook a date, but he shook his head and went into the brothel next door. John drove by. I held up two fingers to tell him how many dates I had turned. He smiled, waved back at me, and drove on.
There was a vacant lot across the street and in it were three parked cars. Four men were sitting on one of the car bumpers.
"There's someone watching the house," I told Grace. She laid down her knitting and peered out the window.
"Pimps-just pimps watching their girls," she said.
Just then I saw John's car pull into the line. He got out and joined the others.
"My old man's over there," I said. "Wonder what they are talking about?"
"Oh, they're probably bragging about how much money their girls earn," Grace answered. "Either that, or trying to decide what cathouse to put her in next."
I felt a little anger. I didn't want John discussing my hustling with pimps. I didn't mind for customers to talk about me, but I didn't want John to.
"He'd better not," I said.
Thelma returned from a date and she put a quarter in the juke-box. It was getting dark and the neon sign on the porch came on. It threw a dusky red light across the porch. Thelma started snapping her fingers and keeping step to the music.
"Gee, I love that tune," she said. When the record ended, she sat down on the sofa beside Grace, stretched her legs out and pointed her toes together. With a bob of her head, she looked at Grace, "What'cha making?"
"Sweater for my new nephew." Grace held it up. It was beginning to take shape.
"Cute," Thelma answered. She tapped her toes together. She walked over to the juke-box, stood there with one hand on her hip, and finally punched the same tune again.
A guy came down the sidewalk and when I pecked on the window, he turned in. I didn't like the looks of his smile when I met him at the door.
"Hi Grace, Hi Thelma," he said in a loud voice. I noticed that Thelma didn't answer his greeting. He looked me over. "Who's the new girl, Grace?"
"Her name's Wanda-this is Sam," Grace answered.
"Yeah, just call me Sam," he threw back his head with a rough smile. "How'd you like to know me better?"
"Fine," I murmured.
He put his arm around my waist and almost dragged me to my room, pinching my bottom as we went.
"I come to the whore houses all the time and just about all the whores are crazy about me. Some of 'em just charge me half price." He looked at me with a gleam in his eye, "You gonna cut your price for Old Sam, Baby?"
"No, I can't do that," I answered. "How do you want it?"
"French Date, Baby, that's how I like it," Sam answered. His face turned serious, "Think you can do it right?"
"I think so." I held out my hand, "Fifteen dollars."
"Hell, Baby, why not ten? Grace won't know what kind of date you give me." He glared at me, "Besides you whores would rather take it that way than you would straight."
"Look, Mister, I don't cut prices for nobody!" I said. Just looking at him made me angry. "Now, if you want to do business with me, O.K. and if you don't, go to one of the other houses."
"O.K., O.K., here's your damn money. You don't need to get sore about it. I was just kidding you. Can't a guy have a little fun?"
"I don't like that kind of fun."
He just belly-laughed, and sat down on the edge of the bed. I knelt down and he grabbed my head so that I couldn't move.
"You dirty whore. You dirty whore," his voice was a raspy breathing. He called me every name he could think of and slapped my face with his open hands.
"Take it easy, Sam," I heard Grace call to him.
I hadn't heard her come into my room. Her warning did some good, but not much. He sat there, rocking to and fro, his chin resting on his chest. He stared at me, a strange look that sent chills down my back. Then his entire body shook and his fingers almost tore out my hair. Slowly, he gave a deep breath and his hands relaxed. I wished I could throw up.
"You did O.K. Baby, you did O.K." His evil smile spread his lips into a toothy grin. "You know, you and me ought to go out sometime, a show maybe. We could have a swell time together."
"No thanks."
"Why not? You don't think you're too good to go out with me!" In a flash, his anger returned. "Maybe you don't know it, Sister, but there aren't many guys who are willing to go out with a whore like you."
"I got a boy friend."
"Oh, one of those kind," Sam sneered. He slammed my door as he went out.
I waited a few minutes and returned to the parlor. My head still hurt from his hair-pulling and my face stung from his slaps. Thelma was standing by the juke-box.
"How did you and Lover Boy make out?" she asked.
"That son of a bitch," I snapped. "I wish I could have ruined him for life!"
"Wanda, you can watch your language," Grace told me. "This is a respectable place of business and swearing isn't allowed."
Within the next hour, I turned two more tricks. They were just trips to my bedroom. Grace's other two girls came in, laughing and giggling when they turned up the walk. Grace kept her black book in her lap and worked on the sweater. Whenever one of us had a date, she put a check mark beside our name. About nine, we settled with her. I paid her for twelve trips, hid sixty dollars in my closet and kept out the rest for change.
Around ten, Grace finished her sweater and turned her black book over to Beverly and went to bed. Beverly had several dates, but I noticed that she didn't mark them down. She was knocking down and I wondered if I should tell Grace about it, but I decided not to.
About one, business started slowing up and I noticed that a couple of the houses had turned off their signs. Beverly told me that I could quit anytime I wanted to. I was ready. Dog tired from being up so long, I walked up to the corner and stood under a street lamp until John picked me up. I could smell the beer on his breath when I got into the car. He leaned over and kissed me. We had only been apart a few hours, but it seemed like years. "How'd it go?"
"O.K. I guess. I made enough for our supper."
"Yeah, and how much more?"
I just smiled and shrugged my shoulders. It gave me a kick to keep him dangling and I decided to make him work for the information he wanted. We drove out to a little roadside cafe and had dinner. We sat in the rear booth and I stared at every man that came in. I. was afraid one of them might be a guy who I had taken on.
"Trade places with me," I whispered.
John traded seats with me and I sat facing the wall. The men coming in or sitting at the counter couldn't see my face, and I didn't feel so self-conscious. As soon as we got back into the car, I stretched out and went to sleep. John had to shake me awake when we reached our apartment.