Uncle Clyde and me were in the back yard of my Uncle Fred's house. Fred was Clyde's nephew, and Clyde thought Fred was a total putz.
"A total fekakta Putz . . . who should never be in charge of fire." Uncle Clyde added, as we both watched Fred cause a ball of flames to erupt from the barbecue pit, igniting Fred's hair and apron.
"That's what, the third time this Summer?" I asked.
"Just about, I'm surprised he still has hair to burn."
"I'm surprised he still has kids. The fact they've survived this long is a miracle."
"No kiddin'! Some guys just don't learn. Back in the First Ward, those are the guys that get buried first. But you can't hide, you know? Like this girl that lived in 205, in that building I where I was a super . . . hey, go get me some of that bourbon, and don't let your mother see you do it. Ahhhh, that's a good nephew. Now, as I was saying...
It was Mama Rosetti that got me this next fringe benefit. She came down to my apartment in the basement and told me this sob story about the Scottish guy and his sister in 205. The guy was getting married, and he couldn't take the sister with him, and she was thinking about going on the turf. Oh, that means becoming a prostitute. Mama Rosetti found all this out and wanted me to do something to keep her honest.
"Me? You gotta be kidding, Mama. What the hell business is it of mine if some skirt wants to get in the business?"
"You know what happens to those girls, Clyde. It's makes them sick, it makes them dead!"
"Not all of them. Some of them get out, and get out flush, too."
"Smart ones maybe, but Annie up in 205 is not one of the smart ones. She has no idea what the world is really like."
An idea popped into my head. "You know what Mama? I might have a way to help you." Mama's eyebrows rose. "Can Annie be around this Friday night?"
"Sure, why? What you got in store for her?"
"The less you know the better. Just send down Annie downstairs at 8 this Friday. I'll take it from there."
"Allright, I hope you know what you're doing."
At 7:50 i was in the downstairs hall, smoking a cigarette. I had just escorted Mignon and her john to the back room on the left. And no, she wasn't named after the steak. Lots of girls called themselves Mignon after this play that was real big at the time. Meat had nothing to do with it. Well, maybe it had a little to do with it. Mignon was one of the older girls, who had regular clients. I had done her myself once. Decent body, nothing to scream about. But she had a sexy face, you know? Large eyes and a mouth that just begged to be kissed. Now, I said sexy, not pretty. There's a difference. Me, I go to sexy every time. The prettier a girl is, the least I trust her. Outside my wife, God Rest her.
So Mignon is back in the room, getting paid, when Annie McTavish comes down the stairs, ten minutes early. She's about 5'4, 23 years old and fairly cute. She had that Scottish red hair cut short and flared out at the shoulders. A lot of the girls on the turf cut their hair that way. She had some curves, and a good look of flesh all over. Back then girls actually wanted to be what your dumb ass cousins call Fat. And Annie wasn't fat, she was this thing my Ma called Zoftig. Which meant plump all over, but in a cute way. Annie walked over to where I was waiting. She was trying to flounce. Flouncing is that sexual power walk the experienced girls used when walking into the waiting room of the bordello. Annie couldn't flounce yet. Hopefully she never would. Whatever it was she was doing brought her over to me, dripping with moxie.
"So, Mister Clyde, Mama Rosetti says you got something to show me now." They way she said it made it clear she thought I wanted to make her. I smiled. "Yeah, sure do. I gonna let you watch a girl fuck a guy." The come-hither look on her vanished.
"You're gonna wha..."
"Come on." I walked to 102, which is right next door to 103, where Mignon was currently working. 102 was nothing but a well appointed bedroom. The bed was wider than most, and it was placed against the wall the room shared with 103. Also on the wall was a large painting of a naked lady, one I didn't know, lying on her side. I took the painting down which revealed a thick glass window into room 103.
"Och laddie, will ye look at that noo..." Annie was so impressed she even lapsed back into her native brogue. There in 103, Mignon was on her knees, with her back to the window, giving French service to her John. French meant Blowjob back then, and yeah, Greek meant in the ass.
"Wait, can't he see us? Does he want us to see him?" Annie asked.
"No, it's a special kind of mirror. In their room, all they see is a mirror, but here we can look through. My boss uses these rooms to blackmail folk, and for special customers who like to watch other people fuck."
Annie was wide eyed and watching the show. Mignon's back and shoulders were moving in such a way you could tell the guy was getting his money's worth. The guy reached down and started playing with Mignon's tits, and she shimmied her shoulders a little in response.
"They just like to watch?"
"Sometimes. There's all kinds of freaks out there Annie."
"Don't talk like I don't know that. I've been hustling drinks at Feldman's for three weeks now. And i've pulled Fifteen dollars in last weekend."
"Yeah? That's pretty good. Mignon here's about to make 30 dollars right here."
