Trouble With a Battery
by Charles Bukowski
I bought her a drink and then another drink and then we went up the stairway behind the bar. there were several large rooms there. she had me hot. sticking her tongue out at me. and we played all the way up the stairway. I took the first one, standing up, inside the door. she just slid back her panties and I put it in.
then we went into the bedroom and there was some kid in the other bed, there were two beds, and the kid said, "hello."
"it's my brother," she said.
the kid looked real thin and vicious, but then almost everybody in the world looked vicious when you thought about it.
there were several bottles of wine along the headboard. they opened a bottle and I waited until they both drank from the bottle, then I tried some.
I threw a ten on the dresser.
the kid really drank at the wine.
"his big brother is the great bullfighter, Jaime Bravo."
"I've heard of Jaime Bravo, he fights mostly out of T.," I said, "but you don't have to give me any bullshit."
"o.k.," she said, "no bullshit."
we drank and talked for some time, just small easy talk. and then she turned out the lights and with the brother there in the other bed, we did it again. I had my wallet under her pillow.
when we finished, she hit the light and went to the bathroom while her brother and I passed the bottle. while the brother wasn't looking I wiped off on the sheet.
she came out of the bathroom and she still looked good, I mean after two shots at it, she still looked good. her breasts were small but firm; what there was of them really jutted. and her ass was big, big enough.
"why did you come to this place?" she asked, moving toward the bed. she slid in beside me, pulled up the sheet, pulled from the bottle.
"I had to get my battery charged across the street."
"after that one," she said, "you'll need a charge."
we all laughed. even the brother laughed. then he looked at her:
"is he all right?"
"sure he's all right," she said.
"what's all that?" I asked.
"we have to be careful."
"I don't know what you mean."
"one of the girls was almost murdered up here last year. some guy gagged her so she couldn't scream and then took a pen knife and cut these crosses all over her body. she almost bled to death."
the brother dressed very slowly, then left. I gave her a five. she threw it on the dresser with the ten.
she passed the wine. it was good wine, French wine. you didn't gag.
she put her leg up against mine. we were both sitting up in bed. it was very comfortable.
"how old are you?" she asked.
"damn near half a century."
"you can sure go, but you look real beat-up."
I'm sorry. I'm not very pretty."
"oh no, I think you're a beautiful man. didn't anybody ever tell you?"
"I'll bet you say that to all the men you fuck."
"no, I don't."
we sat there a while, passing the bottle. it was very quiet except that you could hear a little music from the bar downstairs. I passed into a kind of dream-trance.
"HEY!" she yelled. she jammed a long fingernail into my bellybutton.
"ow! god damn!"
"LOOK at me!"
I turned and looked at her.
"what do you see?"
"a fine-looking Mexican-Indian girl."
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