anisette shots & a hooker

it's late. the bar's gettin ready to close. the last business suit stumbles
out the door, after arguing with a girl that he was annoying. she comes
over to me, says got a light? I pick up matches from the bar, fire up her
virginia slim. I'm in town lookin into a business deal that didn't pan out.
she's got dark hair, but kind of an Ann Sheridan look to her. I look at the
bottle she's holding: Colony Grace Anisette.

I ask, does she want to come to my hotel with me. she says what I expected 
her to say: I don't come cheap. I say no problem, let's go. in the room, she's
real casual, like she owns the place. I don't like it, so maybe I'll scare her a
little. didn't your mother warn you about guys like me?

she stays tough. I never had a mother, & I ran away from my father & the
tramps he shacked up with when other girls were preparing for 1st communion.
I been runnin ever since, & I'm tired. I'm real tired. she's got a sad look in her
eyes, the kind that could bust up a heart as cold as mine.

all I could do was hold her, hard. she clings, like it's exactly what she wanted
me to do. after a minute she pushes away, goes to the bathroom & gets two
plastic cups, pours out double shots. I take $200 & put it on the table.

she undresses slow. the dim light shows me beauty that would have made me
cry if I was more human.  I take off my clothes, that all of a sudden feel like
sandpaper. in bed, we are arms & legs & movements made of desperation.
we maybe took a trip thru heaven, but I don't know, 'cause I wouldn't recognize
heaven if I had the blueprints. I know that it was never that good before, 
& never would be again.

when the night songs & the bottle were empty, she moved toward the door
as I watched in bed. she said: don't take no wooden nickels, stranger.
and she was gone.

the money was still on the table.