Get The Money First (fiction)

“You didn’t know?  You supposed to take the money, then have sex with him.”

“Yeah w-well, I, I asked him.  After.”

“And so — wait a minute — he said he’d give you half and then you’d have to give him a notarized I.O.U.?  Girrrrl…”

“Noooo, he did not say he needed the I.O.U. to be notarized – just the plain I.O.U.  Would you leave me alone about this.  I messed up.  I know this.  I guess you should know all about the standards.  This was your career at one time, before you became, legitimate.”

“Yes, bitch, true.  At least could he fuck?”

I didn’t want to talk about it anymore.  Too embarrassing.

Back to square one

I’ve thought of different ways to make money.  Most of these methods aren’t viable — what do I know about being a madame?  I think of all those hairy gangsters threatening to – I mean offering me buyouts or making me give up ninety percent of my income for ‘protection,’ and it turns me off.

Pity.  I think I have a knack for being a madame, albeit kind of a crazy one.  I would offer my employees benefits and have daycare centers for the ones with families – you know – like Amsterdam.  I had planned to pimp – I meant — to employ men also.  But that idea now is just dust in the wind.

My next way to make loot – being a pirate.  I’d love wearing a black patch over my left eye.  People would think there was such mystery about me, and maybe that I was a bit of a degenerate too.  Oh – and I’d love to tell people to swab the deck and walk the plank.  Do pirates still do that?  I wouldn’t want to be an internet pirate.  Or one of those Somali pirates.  Wasn’t that weird?  Plus – how do pirates make money?  I think they take stuff from people and I don’t like that.  If I’m going to do that I might as well be a cat burglar for a living, and that’s out of the question.

So then I thought I might make cakes because I have passion for it so.  The people would taste the passion and I would get shit loads of customers.  My oven’s from 1980 though.  I’d need those appliances cooks on cable television have.  No way could I afford those!  Just think, the reason I’m considering being a madame, a pirate and a cake baker is because I need extra loot, so kicking out all that cash for state of the art appliances with no certainty of a client base might be fool hardy.  So back to square one, being a broke ass bitch.

ALL ABOUT A HO…

Now that I have your attention, maybe you’ll pay more attention to my little Pepto Bismol colored blog!  A cheap trick you say – no no no no no no no no!  Absolutely not!  For I am a severely interesting person saying excruciating – I mean — very very important things — things with subtext, things that require you to read between the lines.  I cannot help you to do this I am afraid, so now, though I know none of these languages, I must bid you, á bientôt, goodnight, auf wiedersehen.

Good seasonings to you all,

Sword-chinned bitch