Whores for Gloria

by William T. Vollmann

  Is that a fact, said Jimmy, breathing hard.

  The first time this guy wanted me to handcuff his arms to each side and his ankles were down here in some kinda thick rope but the rope was real soft, too. I'm talkin' 'bout the rope thing he wanted it so tight that you know when you take one of them ace bandages and wrap it around to cut off the circulation well it was too tight I said man your feet are gonna fall off but well he's into pain, you know. And I was scared at first. I ended up doin' it. He likes you to spit on him and when I spit on him he wanted me to take a safety pin and you seen them long safety pins, real thick, and he had one of them and it was unfolded out straight and what he wanted me to do is pull the skin back on his dick and the hole that's on it and he wants you to stick that safety pin down into the hole that's in his dickhead.

  Is that right? laughed Jimmy, staring at Candy and choking as he jerked himself off.

  Me I'm not no pain freak. I started out slow, and he gets mad 'cause I'm not doin' it hard enough and he's into blood. He got to arguin', and he got to callin' me names and shit an' I don't like to be called a bitch I don't care who you are if you call me a bitch you'll make me mad an' I will cuss you out an' I have come up and slapped people, so I guess he knew where most women's weak spot's at, and that's all it took, so then when I got it in there I twisted it around, and you know I was doing it to be an asshole but he liked it, laughed Candy. He got different sizes of safety pins, so after you do that he likes you to take a safety pin and stick it through his nipple from one side to the other and then once it's on there he like for you to pull it back and forth like this and he locks it up, and when it's locked he likes for you to stick your fingers in and pull as hard as you can. Now, if that don't work, if you can't draw blood out with that one, he wants you to take your mouth and he wants you to bite it. That man, he's into blood real bad. And words kept goin' back and forth between us, 'cause I was too gende. It seems like the more blood he'd see and the more madder he'd make me, the happier he was.

  Jimmy came in his hand. That's my dream! he shouted.

  Not so loud, said Candy. We don't want folks to think you're hurtin' me. Here's some toilet paper.

  No, said Jimmy, that's my dream you just told me, when Gloria was trapped on the stairs by all the bad things she ever heard because you just told me all the bad things and now I know the two pimps got Gloria and raped her and cut her cunt out and now everything's all right. It's what had to happen. Oh, Candy. Oh, Candy, oh Candy Candy Candy. Now Gloria can never get away from me anymore. And it's not Peggy's dream anymore because you just made it mine.

  Candy sat on the bed shaking her head slowly and thinking while the TV played music and Jimmy waited so expectandy and Candy said Gloria and Candy said hmm! and Candy said you meet all kinds in this job, I'll tell you.

  27

  Candy

  Candy had learned many lessons in her life, the most important of which came when she was with a painting contractor who always carried a suitcase full of money when he met her and took her to a real nice hotel on Broadway and pulled out a bullwhip and sticks made of that wood called whipping willow and got out his cocaine and every time he got a register he wanted Candy to whip his ass until the blood came and then whip his back and whip it and whip it until Candy said well I have to go and the John said wait a minute and gave her more money and she whipped him for another forty-five minutes and then she said well I really have to go now and he gave her more money and then the light dawned on Candy: to get money she only had to threaten to leave, to become unavailable and therefore perfect like Gloria, and then she glowed with the light of a good thing coming to an end and easily achieved that perfection and they paid her and paid her.

  Candy had also learned never to hurry a person, 'cause if she treated him with respect he just might come back.

  28

  Gloria

  Now they were together forever and this time it was forever, and Jimmy said remember when we had that fight about our dreams and you came over for dinner at my place that time and I showed you my collection of clay people with razors stuck up their cunts and Gloria laughed and said yes darling I remember and I remember looking in the refrigerator and seeing that you weren't taking care of yourself and didn't have anything to eat that we hadn't just eaten so I got you a bag of groceries and Jimmy said I remember how you pissed in my mouth while Dinah stood clicking that stiletto I gave her and I remember the smell of your perfume as you sat beside me and how you were so interested in the clay people and even though you'd made half of them yourself back at the river with me and you looked at each one for such a long time and said things like I like the way this one's shaped or I like the face on this one and I felt that you were so interested and I gave you one of them and you kissed me and it was such a rich sweet kiss that I'll never forget it.

  Let me kiss you again now, Gloria said. And then cut me again. Cut more of me out.

  And Gloria was with him, and Jimmy was happy, almost completely happy; he was happier than he'd ever be again, and he kept thinking if only she was here too then it would be perfect; then it would be the three of us.

  29

  The end of the story

  One night Riley hopped a freight into town, and because he had been living the life of himself he was in bad shape. He had been in Code Six's platoon. Pretty soon he found him on Sixth Street.

  Well fucking guy! cried Code Six, delighted. (He stank worse than ever; his odor illuminated the darkness of the alley.)—I thought you was long buried and full of worms! — Pretty soon, said Riley. I got cirrhosis; liver's gonna pop any time now.—Well die like a soldier is all I say! Code Six exclaimed. You was always the bravest of us three, Riley— meaning, you, Jimmy and me—and I count on you to do honors to the fuckin' flag and keep it flyin' high!— How is old James? said Riley, and Code Six said you mean you never heard? and Riley said heard what? and Code Six said buy me a jug and I'll tell you all about it.

  Well, said Code Six, I was down on Turk Street about eight years ago. No, about six years ago, actually. An' this was on check day, y'know, the day everybody gets their check. And there was some kinda outburst outside, by this restaurant.—Which restaurant? said Riley.—The Chink's, the Chink's, the Chink's! said Code Six, the chop suey house, you idiot.—Yeah, I got that, said Riley in a dry voice.—Yeah, fuckin' slopes! said Code Six, slope food! An' all the sudden I hear a gunfire! And I been in Nam just like you, and I know gunfire when I hear it, rather than a Polish Jew!*

  * This cynical name for a firecracker comes about, I presume, from German days, because when you set fire to one it leaves the world with a harmless bang, scarcely ever injuring its murderers.

  You know, gunfire has a distinct sound to it; once you hear it in a combat situation, no, you'll never forgit it. And I look up, man I look around—I'm kinda jittery; only been back in the States about maybe ten or twenty years, still got that shit on my mind—I hear gunfire, and I know it. I turn around, man, and here comes Jimmy with his whore chasin' him! Usually were the other way around, weren't it? Damn! And she drilled his motherfuckin' ass, good and proper. Oh, man!—Code Six chuckled until poor Riley thought he must dissolve under the stench.—Jimmy comes in, the bitch comes in, just lit him up, right there! And she killed him dead right in front of the whole goddamned restaurant, and there were about twenty people in there, cooks and all—right bare-ass from my eyes! I said, motherfucker, I was safer back in Nippon, man, 'cause at least that way I know where the field of fire is! And that was how Jimmy died. Died like a hero. I never did find out what he had done. But you might 'a' knowed his ass, man. And might 'a' knowed her! It was old Gloria!

  Damned right I knew Gloria, said Riley. I remember that chick. Fucked her once. God but she was free with her cunt. So she turned pro, huh? And she killed Jimmy, right on Turk Street?

  That's right where he got lit up, man, right in front of the goddamned Ching's Chop Suey, whatever the fuck the name's of the Chink! Right next to Fred's, you know wha
t I'm talkin' about. And I loved that bastard. He coulda saved the world. Lit him up, man, right in front of my eyes! And she knew her shit! She had some kinda training or somethin' like that. She knew how to kill. She had a .38. She didn't miss 'im. She come blazin' and blood was blastin', and the Chinamen were fuckin' splittin'! You know how a motherfuckin' slope is, man!

  Glossary

  The following list of terms is for the reader who may not have constant access to whores and drugs. (Some of these words, of course, are location-specific, such as "black-and white"; police cars are differently colored in different areas.)

  Assing—Tricking.

  Black-and-white—Police car.

  Box—Vagina.

  Company—Sex.

  Date—Trick.

  Decepticon—A perfect transvestite.

  Fix—Addict's required dose of drug (usually injected).

  Flatbacking—Missionary position intercourse.

  Golden shower—Sex act in which one partner urinates on the other.

  Half-and-half—Fellatio followed by straight intercourse.

  He-she—Transvestite.

  Ho or hole—Prostitute, or sometimes simply a woman.

  Hubba—Cocaine processed into smokeable "crack".

  John—A prostitute's trick.

  Love —Sex.

  Miss Thing—Transvestite.

  Shit—Anything you shoot into your arm.

  Smack—Heroin.

  Smoke—Hubba.

  Snitch—Police informant.

  Speedball—Heroin and cocaine.

  Transformer—Transvestite.

  Trick pad—Hotel where the prostitute brings her tricks. (She usually lives elsewhere.)

  Ten/two—Old term for sex in a trick pad ($10 for a flat-back + $2 to get into trick pad).

  A more accurate term now would be forty/five.

  A Profile of a Tenderloin street prostitute (1985-1988)

  If it pleases you to collect generalizations as some collect postage stamps, then this little whore's album may be of interest to you. Of course that folly of statisticians, the composite person, does not exist. Nonetheless, many of the street prostitutes whom I have met in the Tenderloin share important similarities, which I list below.—But before we get to them, the following points: (i) I have always assumed that the prostitutes who answered my questions told the truth (ii) it would most likely be very foolish to apply this profile to other groups of prostitutes, such as call girls or senators. Nor would the street prostitutes of even ten years ago necessarily match those described here. The current deadly plague of sexual disease has probably made streetwalking a more desperate and dangerous activity than it used to be, with concomitant natural selection of its practitioners (iii) this profile does not begin to address the issue of whether or not the prostitute is a victim, whether her relationship with her clients is particularly exploitative to one party or the other, etc. However, one conclusion is apparent from the facts presented. The unpleasantnesses of her profession are largely caused by the criminal ambiance in which the prostitute must conduct it.

  The points below apply to prostitutes who are women. There is an addendum on transvestite prostitutes.

  1. The prostitute offers sex without commitment.

  • White prostitute, early 30s: The street's a pretty scary place, but a lot of them are just normal men who want a blowjob before they go to work, a piece of ass, just got in an argument with their wife, it's their revengeful trip, you know. As long as they use a rubber, it's cool. Don't bring your wife home nothin'. I was married for a great deal [of] years; I respect that. When I married my husband, I asked him if he had any desire to stray. And he said I'm looking, I can't deny that I'm looking, I'm noticing other women. I said just make sure she's a prostitute, 'cause I know she'll give you back. And it worked. We had like five six happy years together after that. Alcoholism's what broke it up.

  2. In general, she does not enjoy the work for its own sake

  • White prostitute, early 30s: I run into a real lot of nice guys, but, you know, it's an automatic shutdown. Like when he got out of the pen it took me a day not to shut myself down with him, 'cause I hadn't been with him for so long. He took it pretty offensive. All I could tell him was hey I'm sorry. But that's what it's about. We just shut ourselves down, an' do what we know.

  3. However, she does appreciate the money, which can be phenomenal

  • Black prostitute, mid 20s: When I was working in an office, it didn't matter how whether I was sick for a day or whether I worked an extra day. I always knew exactly how much I'd make at the end of the week. I couldn't stand it. Out here I can make as much as I want to make.

  • White prostitute, mid 30s: I once made $7,000 from a single trick. And it was nothing fancy, either.

  4. She is well aware of the risks of disease, and usually insists that her Johns use a rubber

  • White prostitute, early 30s: As far as I'm concerned, as long as you're clean about it, and you always take the precautions of a rubber, there's nothing wrong with it, 'cause the only thing I've ever made love to out here's a rubber.

  • Black prostitute, early 20s: I always use a condom, and I check 'em; if their penis looks raggedy, if it looks like they have an infection or it leaks, all money isn't good money. I won't go with them.

  5. She is or has been a junky.*

  • White prostitute, early 30s: It fills the emptiness.

  6. Her Johns, particularly drug dealers, often prefer to pay her in crack. It is cheaper for them, and they know that they exercise more control over her by dangling a fix in front of her. She is well aware of this.

  • Black pusher, late 20s: You want to get your dick wet? Don't never give her no money! Give her a little smoke, and then start walking away from her. She'll do whatever you want to do. I ain't never paid for pussy yet, and I ain't never used a rubber.

  • Black prostitute, mid 20s: There's a lot of girls out here that do things just for rocks. That's not something I believe in . . . because then you're just trading yourself for a drug. I don't smoke cocaine. I have, but not much.

  * Younger prostitutes tend to be crack users; older ones are intravenous drug users.

  7. She was usually introduced to prostitution by a girlfriend already in the profession.

  • Black prostitute, late 20s: My first date was in 1981. My girlfriend said you want to know how to get some money? I'd rather get paid than do it for free. When I got money I said this is cool.

  8. Her career progressed so gradually that the first trick was no particular milestone.

  • Black prostitute, late 20s: Supposedly you'd be fired [from the massage parlor] if they caught you fucking, but everybody did it. I didn't at first. But then I found out I could get $5 more for jerking them off a little, $10 more for taking off my top, $20 more for taking off my bottom, so I kept doing a little more and a little more . . .

  • Black prostitute, late teens: I'd always been fucking around. Why not get money for it?

  • White prostitute, mid 30s: First I just gave blowjobs. I never had to take down my pants. Then I gradually started flatbacking.

  • Black prostitute, mid 20s: Q. Who was your first one? A. I don't even remember.

  9. She sets limits to protect her privacy and her sense of self.

  • Black prostitute, mid 20s: I won't never kiss anyone except my son's father, and he's in jail in Arizona. He'll be getting out in 1991; then I'm gonna marry him.

  • White prostitute, early 30s: I won't let men abuse me or call me bitch no matter how much they pay.

  • White prostitute, late teens: You can call me Suzy; that's my trick name.* Don't matter what my real name is.

  • White prostitute, early 30s: An Oriental no I don't want to call him Oriental I'm sure he's an A-rab of some sort picked me up once and wanted to go to the hot tubs and he kept talking about how he really wants to be in me and how he wants to eat my pussy and really be involved and well that's not what we're about here. We don't mak
e love to our dates. We service them. We make ourselves available for them to go ahead and get inside. Well he got me so shook about he couldn't be rushed he needed a lot of time he was pretty detailed what he wanted to do with my body an' I got the impression he wanted to crawl right up inside me so just before we got to the hot tub I said look I'm sorry but I don't think I can accommodate you. I knew I could get away with saying that 'cause I'm real soft spoken I have a real good upbringing I was married for thirteen years.