Chapter 14
They were at a table in a hotel coffee shop, a couple of attractive women who might have stopped in for an evening meal together because their husbands were out of town-not much sense in cooking a meal for one.
Nothing about either one of the women was outstanding. Not the way they dressed or wore their hair; not even their mannerisms set them apart from the other women at the surrounding tables.
The doctor had told me the hotel was preparing for a convention. He felt proud of his role of convention chairman and especially pleased that the doctors had agreed to come to the small, out-of-the-way resort town where the hotel and the tourist trade was the main source of revenue.
A G.P., this doctor is not unhappy about going to faraway, exotic places. Twice each year he takes his wife to South America, Puerto Rico, France, sometimes Las Vegas. Wherever the A.M.A. has its convention, he is always very much in evidence. But his pleasure over being responsible for a thousand doctors converging on the city was twofold. When the big, sprawling hotel was in financial difficulties about twelve years ago, he and five friends purchased it. They've had an uphill battle all the way, and until just two years ago the six stockholders often considered giving what appeared to be a white elephant away to a charitable organization.
"It was a rundown old place, and every time we turned around, something else needed extensive repair or had to be replaced. Eighteen hundred rooms. Just think of the linen bill alone! Strangely enough, the house was overflowing with guests ten years before my friends and I bought it. Where we made our mistake was not knowing exactly what we were getting into. Of course that's where most people go wrong when they're getting ready to invest in something that appeals to them for romantic reasons ... and that's why I became interested in the hotel. My grandmother and grandfather stayed here on their honeymoon. When my father married, that's where he took my mother. I guess you might say I'm a traditionalist because I did the same thing when I was married. It's such a picturesque old building, and the surrounding area is beautiful. The food was excellent, the service good ... but we were told that mismanagement caused the previous owners to lose their shirts.
"It wasn't mismanagement. It was the townspeople. But of course it took us a long time to find out the real reason why the hotel went broke. Here's what happened. Back in the fifties, the town voted in a minister to act as City Manager. I suppose they were on a morality kick. The new City Manager kicked out all the prostitutes. Ran them out of the hotel and out of town, even out of the county. So the conventions were no longer interested in coming here."
For the past two years, the doctor and his five friends have seen a healthy return on their investment. He said, "If you go to the coffee shop at about four or five o'clock, you'll see a couple of the girls. They came early because they happened to be in the vicinity. The rest won't arrive until some time tomorrow."
I asked where they came from.
He shrugged. "All over."
I asked how he went about getting the girls back. He said it took some time. "It's a little like walking up to a dealer, if you happen to be into pot, and asking him for a lid. You don't go about it the same way you'd ask for directions. Prostitution is still illegal, but the officials look the other way. I think they finally realized which side of their bread the butter is on. The town was dying on the vine when we took over the hotel. Unofficial figures had over half the citizens on welfare because with the hotel closed down-or at least practically closed down-there just wasn't any employment. Well, we put people to work, but if it hadn't been for getting the girls to come back we would soon have been forced to close the doors. Even then, I couldn't get any of the old timers to level with me for a long time. The people who live here are clannish. They'd made up their minds to run the hookers out of town, and a lot of them figured that even if they starved to death, they still wanted things that way. I finally talked with a policeman who told me the score. He put me on to a man named Ike who was the mainstay of the hotel back in the days of prostitution. I told Dee what I wanted and booked in a convention of steel-workers. Three hundred girls arrived in time to show the steelworkers a good time. After that the hotel started making money."
I took a small table in a corner where I could see almost everyone in the room. A blue-haired grandmotherly type sat across from the two girls I noticed when I first came in. She was with three little girls, so she was out of the hooker picture, but not because of her age, not because of the blue hair. Recent headlines in a midwestern newspaper referred to a seventy-five year old prostitute who stated that she didn't intend to stop till she was ninety.
The three couples were of no interest to me because the doctor said emphatically that the hookers didn't make their own arrangements and they'd just arrived that afternoon anyway, so there hadn't been time. Two girls who looked about sixteen sat at the counter drinking cokes, and to my inexperienced eye they appeared to be both too young and too innocent. It was my opinion that they were local residents, possibly employees of the hotel. They wore faded blue jeans, sandals and homespun shirts. Their hair hung down their backs, long, clean and shiny-smooth. One was a blonde, the other a light brunette. So I concentrated on the two who had caught my eye when I first came in and used a technique for eavesdropping that I learned when a relative lost her hearing. I read their lips. They both had dark hair, and either green or hazel eyes. Because of the lighting I couldn't tell for sure. And they were both nice-looking. One wore a cream colored pants suit, and I didn't learn her name because the other girl, who was dressed in a coral colored mid-calf dress, didn't speak it. The one in the cream-colored pants suit started most of her sentences with, "Coleen." She also did most of the talking, and she had nervous little mannerisms that weren't manifested by her friend.
"Coleen," she said as she looked around the coffee shop in the manner of a thief, "if Hank ever finds out about this he'll kill me."
The girl in the coral dress shrugged. "So who is there to tell him? I won't and certainly you aren't going to."
"Coleen, I'm not sure I want to go through with it. Are you sure they're all doctors?"
Coleen nodded her head. "Every one." She leaned across the table and appeared to speak urgently. "And you know as well as I do that doctors are loaded."
"I read where a lot of them are almost broke on account of the insurance rates. You know, malpractice."
"They're still loaded. They wouldn't come to a convention broke, would they? Damn it, stop looking so scared. You remind me of a spy in an old-fashioned movie the way you keep looking around like you expect somebody to come along and arrest you. We haven't even done anything yet. We've just come into the hotel to eat an early dinner. Stop fiddling with your necklace!"
"Coleen, I don't know what was the matter with me when I agreed to come with you. I should have known I couldn't really do it when it came down to it. Coleen, you won't be mad at me if I just sort of-go back to the car and stay there while you-"
"No." The girl in coral looked very angry in spite of the word that formed on her lips. "Of course I won't be angry. I'll just think you're the biggest fool who ever walked, that's all. Here we drive all the way over here from Coldsprings and Hank isn't ever going to know, because we've covered every angle. You've got yourself a chance to pick up a hundred dollars and you get cold feet. Well, I'm not afraid. Look." Her head turned toward the door, where a group of well-dressed men were waiting for the hostess to seat them. Then she turned back to the other girl. "The thing about doctors that makes it so safe is you know they're clean. And it isn't like they'd hurt you. I just don't understand you!"
The girl in the cream-colored suit looked crushed. "You're divorced, Coleen. I'm not, and I don't want to be."
Coleen smiled. "If Hank finds out you put that fur coat on your Master Charge you'll probably be divorced. Christ almighty. You could probably pay for that coat on three conventions."
So the girls I had thought were hookers were from a town close by. One a housewife, the other divorced. They planned to work the doctors' convention. At least one of them did. The other one still looked undecided when I turned my attention to the door as two more girls walked in.
Both were stunning, but they were as different in appearance as two girls can get who have the same general coloring. They were both blondes, both creamy-complexioned, both endowed with beautiful figures. One was about five feet tall, the other over six feet. The tiny one wore her hair in curls all over her head, quite short. The tall one's hair fell to her shoulders in soft, loose waves.
The hostess seated them close to my table, so I could hear everything they said. It's possible almost everyone else in the coffee shop could hear them too. The smaller of the two girls had two spots of bright red color in her cheeks that wasn't put there from a blusher kit, and her eyes burned with fury. "If that bastard thinks he's going to get away with taking my kids away from me, he's got another think coming. I'll hang his ass so high he'll get his dork cut off by an airplane propeller."
Apparently the taller woman was an attorney and a divorce was in the works. She spoke quietly, but her voice had a carrying quality. "Calm down. I didn't say he would get the children. I said he filed for custody. There's a difference between those two-"
"That asshole!" The small one spat the word out. "He didn't care a fucking thing about those kids when we were living together. Never even hardly noticed them. Now he wants to take them away from me and he's only doing it for spite, well, fuck him! I'll kill that little son of a bitch!" She was screaming at the top of her lungs.
The cashier left her perch long enough to help the hostess come over and shush the tiny blonde. Although the conversation was interesting, I had struck out again, and it appeared nobody was going to come to my rescue and make an introduction to the two hookers who had just entered. I was sure they were the ones the doc had referred to, though.
One had red hair, the other one brown. They went to the counter where the young girls I had thought might work at the hotel were still drinking cokes. Again, my lip-reading ability came to my rescue. I made notes of the following conversation:
Sixteen year old ... (or at least she looked it): "Hi, Kerry. Hi, Adelle. Good to see you again."
The other teenager smiled a greeting.
Kerry was the red haired girl, who looked about thirty. "Hi, kids."
First sixteen year old...."What a drag. Doctors are so chintzy. I told Mike, I said we better do better at this convention than we did the last time we worked a doctor deal."
Second teenager...."Yeah."
Older girl, with brown hair. She looked about twenty-five...."Dentists are better, but not much. Mike said we got to stick around in rooms. No circulating. He said People in town are kind of-you know...."
Redhead...."You see those two cunts over there at that table? One has on a light colored pants-suit, the other a pinkish dress. I bet they live right here in town and they're looking for some action."
First teenager...."Mike won't put up with any of that shit. He spots them trying to make a mark, he'll get rid of them."
The two older women ordered coffee. The redhead scowled. "That's the trouble with this business. Goddamn townies horning in on the action."
The brown-haired girl agreed. "And worst than that, the little tramps who give it away." All four of the girls looked glum.
Later, I saw the two young girls in the lobby. They were dressed in fashionable long dresses and wore cosmetics, but not much. A tall black bellman walked up to them and frowned as he said something. Over the rest of the conversation going on in the lobby, I could hear the one girl protesting that she wasn't cruising, she was on her way to the drug store for some aspirin.
The hotel has a setup for the hookers that is used by a number of places where girls are available for a price. Except for a few regular town girls who are smuggled in by bellmen and waiters (strictly against hotel policy) the girls are imported from other cities. Each girl is assigned a room and told to stay in it. During the rush hours, which is the time a girl is likely to be working, she can't even call down to the dining room or coffee shop to order food. If she gets to the point of near starvation, she can always bribe a bellman to bring her something, but since the bellman has strict orders to not mess around with the girls, either in bed or out of it, she has to pay a high price for a sandwich. She can read or watch television or even sleep between tricks, but management (in this case Ike, the chief procurer and importer) keeps telling them to not come to the door without a big welcoming smile, so if she sleeps between tricks she'd better wake up in a hurry.
Four or five of the bellmen and a few waiters are Ike's underlings. These men escort a John to a girl's room and make sure he has actually gone inside. At that time, the gentleman is expected to shell out the slickels to whoever brought him. At this hotel, no arrangements are made over the telephone, but in many hotels the telephone is used more than any other method of getting the trick to the room.
A girl might turn as many as twenty tricks a night. Then again, she might only do one or two. The hotel employees who bring the gentlemen to the room have a bookkeeping system that doesn't fail and doesn't give away secrets. Ike spends most of his time acting as a genial host. He goes from the bar to the coffee shop to the main dining room to the lobby, always willing to do a free-wheeling conventioneer a favor by turning him on to a "fella who just might know where you might find a girl, doctor."
When morning comes, Ike has a tally of each girl's tricks. He pays off the underlings, gives the hotel a cut, takes his percentage, and the balance goes to the girls, always in a plain white envelope. The rates vary for special services.
A straight lay is forty dollars, but a tip is expected. Still, some girls might be persuaded to go for thirty or even twenty-five if business is slow. When this happens, they let Ike know by slipping a note to the next bellman who comes knocking at the door with another customer.
Fellatio is slightly higher, definitely higher if the John expects to be brought to orgasm, but most of the girls will give a little foreplay with their mouth, especially if the John doesn't come in with an erection.
Many of the girls bring along porno films, which they purchase on their own and don't often charge their customer for the privilege of watching. Dee frowns on quickies, but just as performing oral sex often brings a man to orgasm more quickly than without it, the porno films sometimes serve the same purpose. If a man would enjoy two or more girls, he must pay the full price for each. As far as I was able to learn, none of the hookers bring along exotic equipment like chains and whips, but I wasn't able to get on a one-to-one basis with any of the girls, either, except for Anne. Regulations are strict and strictly adhered to there. Girls are simply not allowed to talk with anybody except their tricks. Anne was a pudgy little girl of about twenty, and I talked to her after the convention.
She had a black eye and a missing tooth. She'd been crying and looked very forlorn as she waited for a taxi to take her to the airport. I didn't know she'd worked the doctors' convention when I offered to share my cab. I thought she was a maid, maybe kitchen help. Her tears fell again after we were on our way. I said something reassuring, to the effect that no man was worth crying about. Then I asked where she wanted to be dropped off, never dreaming she was going to the airport too. She said she had to catch the next flight to Baltimore, but mostly she had to get out of the hotel. "Because I did a terrible thing and I might get killed because of it."
Anne lived in Baltimore, but before she moved there with her second husband, she lived in Nevada, where she'd been a working girl at a cathouse. She said she went straight after she married the second time, but when that marriage broke up, she went back to hooking.
"Only I'm not a very good prostitute," she sobbed. "I thought I could do anything a man asked for, but last night-" A fresh torrent of tears brought a halt to her story, but before we arrived at the airport I had it all down inside my head.
Anne's first trick was what she referred to as a real sweet man. He gave her a big tip and showered her with compliments. Then came the second.
"I never would have thought a doctor would be crazy," she said. "Isn't there some kind of law that makes them have to go to a psychiatrist to be checked out, to make sure their head isn't all screwed up? If there isn't, there sure ought to be." I said I didn't know.
"Well, he looked all right. I mean, he didn't look nuts. He was kind of old, maybe fifty-five or sixty. And he wasn't very big, just a little guy about five feet two. Probably only weighed a hundred and twenty pounds. Acted normal when he first got in. I mean, he asked me to tell him my name and all like that.
"Well, pretty soon he started flailing around with his hands and yelling at me to get the glass from the wash basin for him. I thought, boy, he's really a weirdo, I bet he's going to expect me to drink his come. But I got the glass and started to hold it under his prick, but he wouldn't let me. Said he wanted to do it for himself. I think he said something about making sure it was sterile, but I'm not sure. He wasn't talking very clearly at the time.
"Anyway, he shot off into the glass. Then he paid me and went into the other room where he put on his clothes and left. At the door, he told me to keep that glass just as it was, he couldn't take it right then because he didn't want anybody to see him with it if they happened to be outside in the hall.
"I said I would take care of it, and he said for me to not touch it. I promised I wouldn't, and he went ahead and left.
"After he was gone, I happened to notice that he'd covered the glass up with the plastic it was wrapped in. I didn't think he'd come back for it because, well ... men tell me the strangest things. Besides, he'd been drinking a lot. But he did come back for it. I didn't throw the damned glass out, the maid did. He was crazy mad, and he was stone sober, too. I tried to reason with him, but he was insane.
"He looked at me with his eyes all bugged out and his mouth all turned down and told me he had planned to use that come. He was going to dry it and put it through some process or another that I couldn't understand and make pills out of it that he'd store up for his old age, for when the time came when he got so he couldn't come any more. Then he started belting me for being so careless."
Dee gave Anne the money for plane fare home. She told me she guessed she just wasn't cut out for the life of a working girl. She was going back to Baltimore and try to find a waitress job after her eye cleared up and after she'd replaced her missing tooth.