“He’s probably at Mama-san’s Steam-n-Cream.”
“Ooh, Man.” Tony moaned. “There was this one honey I saw at the airport—right when I get off the plane, you know, up the ramp—Man, she looked so good she coulda sat on my face and farted up my nose.”
“Fart up—” Jimmy squealed. “I love it.” Then he said seriously, seriously stoned, “I gotta show you somethin. Don’t tell my Ma. She’ll fuckin go nuts.”
“What?” Tony rolled to face him. “When you’re done, I gotta ask ya ...” Jimmy rolled up his left sleeve, up past his bicep and over his shoulder. “Oh wow!” Tony exclaimed. “That’s really ... neat.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. You show it to her?—Naw, you haven’t been there yet. Where’d you have it done?”
“A guy up in Dong Ha did the ‘Bea.’ But I had to go to Da Nang before I found a guy who could do the honey bee in red like that ... and with all the other colors.”
“Man.” Tony dropped his head, dejected. “I gotta get laid.”
“You comin with me to Red’s?” Jimmy asked.
“You sure you don’t wanta see her alone?”
“Naw. She said she’s got a friend for ya. If we’re goina get it on, we’ll beat feet someplace while you and her friend do whatever you want.”
“Geesh, Man,” Tony said. “I’ve seen half a dozen woman with these guys, ya know, Jack and Don and all. Man, they’re a hassle. It’s weird, Jimmy. It’s like they’re all spoiled brats. I wish I’d meet somebody who was halfway fuckin, ya know ...”
“Yeah. Maybe Red’s friend ...”
“Shee-it. I’ll tell ya though, I know what I’d like to meet. She’d be about five three, five four,” Tony said. In his mind he saw Maxene. “She’d have eyes that were, you know, different. They’d be brown and blue at the same time. Maybe brown or gold around the pupil and switchin to blue as you move out. Maybe turnin almost black. And she’d have auburn hair down to her shoulders. And she’d have a nice smile. A real one. Not some flaky pasted-on grin.”
“Most of the jobs have been for my legs.” Stacy’s laugh was small, pleasant.
“Oh,” Tony said. “I didn’t know models specialized like that.”
“Sometimes,” Stacy said. “Would you like to see my portfolio?”
“Is that okay?” Tony asked. He felt out of place, intimidated, afraid her portfolio might contain naked photos, afraid he wouldn’t know how to react. Bea Hollands and Jimmy had disappeared and left Tony with a woman he did not believe could possibly be interested in him. She was, he was certain, the most beautiful woman he’d ever set eyes upon—lovelier even than Maxene.
“Yes,” Stacy said simply. Her voice and confidence were reassuring. She left and returned with a large zippered leather case. As long as he didn’t look at her he was okay. Stacy directed him to the sofa, laid the case on the coffee table. He wasn’t sure if he was allowed to touch it. “Go ahead,” she said.
Tony unzipped the case, laid it flat. The first page was a typed resume giving her age, measurements, dress and shoe sizes, and data Tony was too nervous to read. He flipped the page. There was a portrait photo of Stacy looking sideways, over the corner of a high, light blue collar that framed her face. Her blue eyes looked directly into his.
“That’s your color,” Tony said.
“I think so too,” Stacy agreed.
Tony turned the pages slowly. Half the pictures were of just her legs, the kind of photo that might be used for a hair remover or stocking ad. He studied the photos, could not look at Stacy. “You’ve got beautiful legs,” he said.
“Would you like me to put on a dress?” Stacy asked.
Tony could hardly speak. He gurgled. Before he could say anything she was up, out of the room. He turned to catch a glimpse of her but she had vanished. He turned back to the first photo. Her face captivated him. It was too beautiful to look at for long.
He turned away, looked about the room. It was just
“Ooh, Man.” Tony moaned. “There was this one honey I saw at the airport—right when I get off the plane, you know, up the ramp—Man, she looked so good she coulda sat on my face and farted up my nose.”
“Fart up—” Jimmy squealed. “I love it.” Then he said seriously, seriously stoned, “I gotta show you somethin. Don’t tell my Ma. She’ll fuckin go nuts.”
“What?” Tony rolled to face him. “When you’re done, I gotta ask ya ...” Jimmy rolled up his left sleeve, up past his bicep and over his shoulder. “Oh wow!” Tony exclaimed. “That’s really ... neat.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. You show it to her?—Naw, you haven’t been there yet. Where’d you have it done?”
“A guy up in Dong Ha did the ‘Bea.’ But I had to go to Da Nang before I found a guy who could do the honey bee in red like that ... and with all the other colors.”
“Man.” Tony dropped his head, dejected. “I gotta get laid.”
“You comin with me to Red’s?” Jimmy asked.
“You sure you don’t wanta see her alone?”
“Naw. She said she’s got a friend for ya. If we’re goina get it on, we’ll beat feet someplace while you and her friend do whatever you want.”
“Geesh, Man,” Tony said. “I’ve seen half a dozen woman with these guys, ya know, Jack and Don and all. Man, they’re a hassle. It’s weird, Jimmy. It’s like they’re all spoiled brats. I wish I’d meet somebody who was halfway fuckin, ya know ...”
“Yeah. Maybe Red’s friend ...”
“Shee-it. I’ll tell ya though, I know what I’d like to meet. She’d be about five three, five four,” Tony said. In his mind he saw Maxene. “She’d have eyes that were, you know, different. They’d be brown and blue at the same time. Maybe brown or gold around the pupil and switchin to blue as you move out. Maybe turnin almost black. And she’d have auburn hair down to her shoulders. And she’d have a nice smile. A real one. Not some flaky pasted-on grin.”
“Most of the jobs have been for my legs.” Stacy’s laugh was small, pleasant.
“Oh,” Tony said. “I didn’t know models specialized like that.”
“Sometimes,” Stacy said. “Would you like to see my portfolio?”
“Is that okay?” Tony asked. He felt out of place, intimidated, afraid her portfolio might contain naked photos, afraid he wouldn’t know how to react. Bea Hollands and Jimmy had disappeared and left Tony with a woman he did not believe could possibly be interested in him. She was, he was certain, the most beautiful woman he’d ever set eyes upon—lovelier even than Maxene.
“Yes,” Stacy said simply. Her voice and confidence were reassuring. She left and returned with a large zippered leather case. As long as he didn’t look at her he was okay. Stacy directed him to the sofa, laid the case on the coffee table. He wasn’t sure if he was allowed to touch it. “Go ahead,” she said.
Tony unzipped the case, laid it flat. The first page was a typed resume giving her age, measurements, dress and shoe sizes, and data Tony was too nervous to read. He flipped the page. There was a portrait photo of Stacy looking sideways, over the corner of a high, light blue collar that framed her face. Her blue eyes looked directly into his.
“That’s your color,” Tony said.
“I think so too,” Stacy agreed.
Tony turned the pages slowly. Half the pictures were of just her legs, the kind of photo that might be used for a hair remover or stocking ad. He studied the photos, could not look at Stacy. “You’ve got beautiful legs,” he said.
“Would you like me to put on a dress?” Stacy asked.
Tony could hardly speak. He gurgled. Before he could say anything she was up, out of the room. He turned to catch a glimpse of her but she had vanished. He turned back to the first photo. Her face captivated him. It was too beautiful to look at for long.
He turned away, looked about the room. It was just
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