Joker's Mistress

Chapter Five

Chapter Five

After her father had gone down, hemorrhaging blood and brain-matter, Biff took off like a bunny-rabbit. He knew that within minutes the cops would be all over the place. Whatever his escape plan was, it had to have been pretty good because, as far as Ava knew, no one ever saw or heard from Biff again. And the cops were looking for him. But when they questioned Ava and she had told her story, the cops didn’t seem to look so hard anymore, and that had helped, or so she supposed. But to this day Ava still wondered whatever had happened to big ol’ Biff.

Ava reached down for her glass of Remy. She made a silent toast, smiled, and sipped the liquor. Maybe she had loved him after all. She washed the brandy down with a swallow of hot black coffee.

Her waitress appeared at the side of the table. “Everything alright here, ma’am?”

“Everything has been quite lovely,” Ava said. “I’m just sitting reminiscing; enjoying the sun. Do you need the table?”

The waitress looked about the empty restaurant and laughed. “If you’re happy, I’m happy. Stay as long as you like.”

“Thank you. Might I inquire, your name? You’ve been very attentive.”

“Sandy,” the girl replied. “Short for Sandra.”

“Really. Sandra was my mother’s name...”

“And a wonderful woman, I’m sure; with a name like Sandra...”

“The best.”

Sandy fussed with the tablecloth. “And what were you reminiscing about? Good thoughts, I hope.” The girl made easy small talk and allayed Ava with a beguiling smile. “If you care to share, I’m a good listener.”

“Just mostly thinking about how I came to live and work in this marvelous city. I’m from Nebraska and every day I thank my lucky stars to be outta that frigid state; to be here in the warmth of the desert.”

“So it worked out for you, then?”

Ava detected a pang of despair. “Can you sit with me a moment? Do you have the time?”

“That would be nice,” Sandy replied. “My shift’s just about over, anyway. Sure.”

“Excellent. But get yourself something first. Add it to my bill.”

Sandy returned a moment later with a frosty glass of vodka in her hand. She had removed her apron and loosened her hair. She was a cutey: Bright blue eyes and a tiny ski-jump nose. Sandy set down her glass and slid in across from Ava.

“You’re also from up north, I can tell,” Ava said, swinging her feet around and placing them back onto the floor. “Where abouts?”

“I’m a Cheese Head; Wisconsin. Been here for the better part of three years.”

“And you always wanted to live here?”

“Hardly.” Sandy smiled and stirred her ice cubes with an index finger. “This is my girlfriend’s fantasy. I’m just along for the ride. I was set to go to college.”

“And...”

“And we, the both of us, had graduated from high school together and were kinda knocking around for the summer. I had the marks for college but couldn’t decide what to take. I was about to sign up for a General Arts program but knew it wouldn’t lead to a decent job. My girlfriend convinced me to take a year off; to think things over...”

“And that was three years ago?” Ava interjected.

Sandy looked despondent. “Yeah. She wanted to come here after reading about the City in some magazine; got herself really hooked. She was completely taken by the lifestyle: The glamorous casinos, the nightlife, the showgirls, the powerful men and the massive amounts of cash. Everything! She desperately wanted to be a part of all that.”

“So you took the bus.”

“Yeah.” Sandy slumped lower. “Just like everybody, I guess; sharing the dream of working at a casino and meeting the right guy.”

“I work at the Adobe,” Ava said. “A dealer.”

Sandy looked up, pondering her next sentence. “So it did work out for you.”

“Yes. I suppose. But it took some effort.”

“Well I’m glad it works for some people.” Sandy didn’t sound bitter, only circumspect. “I hear the Adobe is pretty good.”

“No better, no worse than most.”

“Oh. I was hoping you were going to tell me that it’s a wonderful place to work.” Sandy went back to playing with her ice cubes.

Ava noticed the girl had yet to enjoy a sip. “So I take it you and your friend couldn’t find work.”

“She made out okay, sort of,” Sandy said without looking up. “She’s taller than me, with good legs.”

“And they’re always looking for the legs. But now you wait tables...”

Sandy shied from the remark. “I couldn’t play the game.”

“The game?”

“We arrived in the City and got ourselves a cheap room and started looking. We had heard the Shamrock was hiring and called them up. We were thrilled to be asked in for an interview, the two of us.” Sandy smiled into her drink as she recalled. “We made a big deal outta going to Walgreen’s to buy new pantyhose. That morning, before we were scheduled to meet the owners, we were trying on clothes, doing each other’s hair and makeup.”

“The Shamrock’s a small time operation.”

“Yeah. But we were outta money and couldn’t afford to be fussy.”

“Sure...”

“So we met with a couple of old guys in a seedy office; hardly glamorous. They sat behind a cheap metal desk and we had to stand, side by side, in the center of the room, like we were storefront mannequins, on display. They made us turn around so they could check out the backside as well. They didn’t ask about our experience, only wanted to know if we were virgins. I guess we looked kinda young.”

Sandy finally lifted her glass of vodka. She took a big swallow.

“My girlfriend told them she’d had a couple of guys in high school, and I lied; told them I had a boyfriend back home. They thought that was terribly funny. Had themselves a good belly laugh.”

Ava’s eyes came up, a quizzical look on her face. She had a thought but let it go. “You’re a pretty girl. I’m sure you had lots of boyfriends waiting back home.”

Sandy just shrugged off the compliment. “They wanted to see our teeth,” she continued. “We had to open our mouths and they came around to have a good look; stuck their fingers in so they could see down our throats. It was humiliating to be treated that way. And then, of course, they wanted to see my friend’s legs. And they wanted me to push her skirt up.”

“They asked you to do that?”

“Yeah. I looked over at my friend and hesitated. She was staring straight ahead. I called out her name, but she didn’t move, just said: ‘Do it,’ without looking over. And when I still hesitated, she repeated it: ‘Just fuckin’ do it!’ So I got down on my knees and lifted the front of her skirt. I felt her start to tremble and paused. The guy shouted at me to lift it higher so I pushed her skirt all the way up, almost to her waist, so they could see her crotch; see all of it.”

“God.”

“The men sat back, drinking and smoking, and enjoying the show. Afterward, they sent me home. But they kept my friend.”

“What do you mean, they kept her?”

“She never would talked about it. I just went home and waited.”

“She didn’t go home with you?”

“No. They wanted her to stay behind. Like I said, she has nice legs.”

Ava had heard stories like this before. There was never a happy ending. “And?”

“I went home and waited. It was after midnight when she finally showed up. And she was a mess. She could hardly walk. And all she had on was her blouse and underpants. Her skirt, bra, pantyhose and shoes were gone. She didn’t know where. I got her into a hot tub and then into bed. She didn’t get up for two days. But then she had to go to work.”

“So they gave her a job at the casino.”

“Yeah. And I went to work for the Waffle Hut. I ate cold waffles for dinner every night for six months.”

“And your friend is still at the Shamrock?”

“Yeah. She works the roulette table. She doesn’t make much but she has a Julia Roberts mouth so she does okay with the tips.”

“And you’re okay with working here at the restaurant?”

“Thanks to the waffles, I gained a bit of weight. But I’ve been working at it. I got another five pounds to go before I’ll be slim enough to try again. I’ll buy new pantyhose.”

“You’re prepared to go through that?”

“I couldn’t bear the humiliation of going back to Wisconsin. And maybe I’ll get lucky this time. Maybe I’ll try the Adobe.”

“I’m not sure it’s any better.”

“Did you have to f**k to get your job?”

“No. But I worked the Sidewinder Room.”

“I’ve heard of it. It has a bit of a reputation around town.”

“It’s in the basement of the Adobe. A small gaming room, a hundred patrons, maybe.”

“And you had to work bare-breasted?”

“No. Sort of the other way around.”

“I’m not so sure that I follow.”

“We’ve got these sexy uniforms at the Adobe: a trim little skirt, white blouse with a short waistcoat over top; a vest, actually... in a stylish western cut. And we all wear those string-ties, like the cowboys, with the Adobe logo on the clasp.”

“Sounds like a cute outfit.”

“It is. It’s an out-west theme, but no cowboy hats or boots. If you get asked to work the Sidewinder Room, and if you’re cute they will ask, you only get to wear the vest and the tie.”

“Nothing on the bottom?”

“Nope. Nothing on the bottom. Except your high-heels.”

“Geez. And you did that?”

“A lot of girls do it. The pay packet for the night is one-thousand cash. And you easily double that when you add in your tips. It’s quick easy money. And it’s tax free.”

“Okay. I get it. But you still don’t seem the type.”

“Well I was young, about your age, I guess. And recently married to a guy with a struggling business. Frankly, we needed the cash.”

“And he was okay with you parading around like that?”

“He never knew.”

“Damn! You’re kidding me!”

“I wasn’t proud of my behavior, but I was in love and knew my marriage was strong, so I did it to pay our bills. Once the business kicked in to the point of supporting us, I never worked the Sidewinder again. But it still goes on, and I still get asked to work sometimes, but I always turn it down.”

Sandy’s eyes had glazed over. She was focused on a two-thousand dollar a night windfall, all for giving a room full of old codgers the privilege of gloating over her p***y.

“Did the men ever touch you?” It was an important question.