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I hear the blare of taxi horns and an ambulance wailing in the distance when I step out of the apartment the next morning. The scent of Selma's stale cigarette smoke wafts out behind me. It's freezing out; I can see my breath. I shove my hands in the pockets of my red hoodie, my worn converses creating a pattern on the sidewalk as I walk.
Today Selma expects me to make no less than four hundred dollars. She needs money quick, since she's running low on her booze. That only means one thing. Lawrence ave.
It was the seediest place in New York, heaving with dirt, grime, and pollution. But the best customers went there.No surprise. Cops hardly ever went down there, said there was no point. Bunch of punks, if you ask me.
As I get closer to Lawrence ave, I strip off my hoodie. Underneath I'm wearing nothing but a black silk bra, with a short, rhine stone studded jacket underneath. I sit on a nearby stoop and take off my sneakers, putting then in the tan shoulder bag I always carry. Out of the bag I pull out a pair of five inch fuschia stilettos, and put them on. I stumble a little when I try to get up, but then regain my balance. I straighten out my posture and stroll onto the ave, ready to get to work. To do business.
"Hey sexy ma." A sleek black car rolls up next to me, the window lowers on the passenger side. Inside sits two African American males who leer at me. The one in the passenger seat speaks to me in a low southern drawl. "Hey honey, how much you for?"
I smile, hiding any trace of the discomfort and disgust that was curling in my stomach. I change my voice, deepening it and adding a smooth sexier touch to it. "For you two bad boys? Hundred twenty."
The man in the passenger seat grins. "Not bad. Hop in bae."
I lean in the the open window. Heres comes the hardest part of a prostitute's job. I make my voice low and throaty, to tempt the men. "Money first, boys."
The man in the passenger seat laughs, but doles out the cash. I smile seductively as he hands it to me."Thanks boys. Now for some fun." Laughing sexily, I slide in the backseat making sure I give the guys a good view of my rear end. You have to please the customers so they won't harm you. "Where to?"
The man in the driver's seat speaks for the first time. "None of yo' bidness."
I tamp down the fear that begins to rise in my throat. With a screech of the car tires, we're on our way.