Hanging Around

By

Kent L Johnson

She walks up to us, askin' for a light. Greg couldn't get his lighter out fast enough. I watch her as she inhales. The tip of her cigarette bursts first into flame, then settles into an orange ember. It wasn't the flame that intrigued me, it's beyond the flame; her lips pucker around the white filter and she sucks in, her cheeks implode for a moment, then a puff of smoke rolls from the side of the cigarette. She pulls it off her lips and smiles. Seductive, if you got a dirty mind. I do.

"Thanks," she says to Greg, "I owe you one."

"Maybe, we can get together later? Talk?" Greg's got his eye on her.

I catch her glancing at the ring on his finger. She doesn't seem bothered. She looks at me and smiles, before answering him. "Want my number?"

"Sure," he says. "How about a drink later this evening?"

"I'm a workin' girl," she says, drawing on the cigarette and exhaling soft gray smoke out her nose. "My payin' job's during the evening." She winks at him. "Give me a call. Maybe we can work something out." She hands him a card. It's got a number on it, but she's crossed a couple out and wrote new above in her own hand.

"See ya, and thanks for the light." She turns and walks away.

Greg and me, we're sittin' and watchin' her walk down the pathway in the park. She's wearin' tight black low cut jeans. Got some bling on the pockets. The pants are so low cut 'n' tight, she got some hip muffin-top comin' over the sides, even though she's slim. Low cut short blouse that shows her belly and her boobs if she leans the right way. She's wearin' a black bra, with a black lace undershirt that clings to her belly.

Neither of us says anything as we watch her walk. She glances back our direction and gives us a smile. She's out of hearing range and Greg looks at me and shakes his arm fast for a few seconds, leaving his wrist limp, in that universal gesture of  'Oh My God'.

"Oh man. What do you think about that?"

"I think she's an alien," I say.

"Alien?

"Yeah."

"What makes you think that?"

"One, she's damn good looking and she stopped to talk to us. That's so strange, it's out of this world."

"Strange, yeah, but not entirely unheard of. I may be a bit out of sorts, but you're in good shape. Why wouldn't she stop?" Greg says to me.

"It just doesn't happen. Two, she leaned over to tie her shoe and I had my eye on her ass. Didn't see no butt crack peekin' out. With those jeans, it should a been showin'. She's an alien."

"Oh come on," Greg says. "You so use to seein' fat ass gals that you think someone with a small butt is an alien? You nut's man. I can imagine what that looks like from across town.” His eyes look away from me and into the sky. “Nice."

"So you gonna call her?"

"I just might."

"What do you think she charges?" I sit back on the park bench and feel the sunlight hit my face. It's warm and feels good. The park has an odor of cut grass and I hear kids playin' in the distance.

"Charges? What are you talkin' about?"

"She's a hooker, Greg. Pretty obvious."

"Not obvious to me," he says. "So you tellin' me, if she's not an alien, she's got to be a hooker for talkin' to us?"

"Just sayin."

"Man, you're one cynical bastard. What's wrong with us?"

"You didn't see how she was starin' at your wedding ring?"

"No."

"By the way. When are you goin' to get back with Kath?"

"I'm not sure I'm getting back. I might just find me a nice gal that appreciates me for me, like that cute one that just left."

"Keep dreamin'." 

A bird lands on the lawn in front of us. He's cockin' his head from side to side, listening for worms, I guess. The bird hops a few steps, then listens some more. A kid on a bicycle rides by and scares it. It takes flight. I'm wonderin' about Greg and his ol' lady. They seemed so happy that first year they were married. 

"So tell me again, why you and Kath split up?" I ask Greg. "You're still doin' counseling?" 

"Yeah, we're still doin' counseling, but I don't see no good comin' from that so far, 'cept some rich bitch counselor getting richer." Greg extends his hands out in front of him and flexes his muscles. I hear his arm bones crack. He rests his hands on his lap. "Kath says she can't handle me watchin' sports with Lance and Norm couple a times a week. Thinks I should be home with her all the time."

"You watch at your house? Or Lance's?"

"No, we watch down at Pat's. It's a nice place, they got good beer, and cheap, on a game night."

"I like Pat's too, but it is a bar. Sometimes you can get carried away with a bit too much good beer and liquor." 

I'm thinkin' of the times I wandered home from Pat's, not ever remembering I left 'till I put the key in my apartment door. Good beer and ale, maybe a shot of Irish Whiskey, next thing you know...you wake up the next morning not knowing how you got home; or worse yet, you wake up with someone the next morning and not even remember what the two of you did. What a waste.

"Maybe I get carried away sometimes. Fact is, when we were seein' each other, she'd go out with me to these things too. Now it's like she never did any of that stuff." Greg looked frustrated.

"You got a kid now. Things change for some," I tell him.

"Yeah." Greg sits silent for a moment, staring straight ahead.

Greg was tall and lanky back when we were in school; a baseball playin' son of a bitch. Now he's startin' to sport a beer belly, his face looks older and you can see the stress he feels in his expression. He and Kath married a few years back. Kid came along about two years later. He's a regular workin' class stiff now, his fate kind of sealed by choices maybe he didn't understand. I don't know. A lot a shit happens to folk as they go through life. 

I hear the sound of sirens from the streets outside the park. Sounds like an ambulance, maybe a cop. It distracts me from my thoughts. I watch two kids playing Frisbee off in the distance, a dog running between them each time the disk is thrown. Third Saturday of every month, the VFW puts on a great breakfast for cheap. I saw Greg at one a few years back, and we became reacquainted since school. We come to the park after breakfast if the weather is good and talk: Greg, Kath and the kid. Last few months it's just been Greg.

"I got to get rollin'," Greg tells me. "Since I been livin' back home with my folks, they started to give me chores again. See you next month."

I watch him walk a short way before I get up and head home in the opposite direction.

The sky is overcast but it's not cold. Greg and I are walkin' into the park, towards the bench we normally sit at.

"You were right."

"Huh?"

"She was a hooker."

"You called her?"

"I had to know...was it business or did she see something more?"

"It was business, I take?"

"You know, we go through life, none of us prepared, as I see it. Then we get into things, marriage, a kid, and a job. All of a sudden, those three things that seemed so independent, are now the same...tied to each other in a circle, like a rope looped into a noose."

"A little dramatic, don't you think, Greg?"

"Not really. I got a wife and kid and it's my responsibility to make sure they are provided for, so I gotta have a job. The noose is around my neck and if I stumble, we all three get hurt."

We sit down at our usual park bench. I see kids playing soccer off in the distance. Today, the air smells moist. I hear birds fighting in the trees. A girl on roller blades whizzes by on the paved path, her hair bounces off her shoulders.

"The more I thought about it, after I learned she was a prostitute, the more difficult it became. She didn't want me for me, but for money. I probably shouldn't have thought about it. Why the fuck do I have to have a conscience?"

"It's good that some people do, Greg."

"Yeah, but you know, I talked to her on the phone for a long time. She's like ten units from getting her degree in Sociology. Wants to be a school counselor. I don't know, maybe we could have hit it off."

"No shit?"

"She turns tricks, cause it pays the bills, and doesn't take a lot of time. She doesn't have any hang-up about sex for money. No guilt. She likes to pick her people though, since random guys can be scary. Married men are her best picks. Married men are lookin' for an ideal that she can cater to. That's why she kinda chose me over you. I got the ring." Greg held his hand in the air, displaying his gold band.

"So what was it? Did guilt get the better of you?"

"Yeah, I mean, I made a commitment to Kath. I got a kid. And here I am talking about paying a girl to get my rocks off one time, breaking my commitment. I went into counseling with a new attitude.  Me and Kath, gonna get back together next week and try it again."

"I'm happy for you Greg." I smile at him, then turn back and watch the kids playing off in the distance. "Can I ask you something?

"Shoot."

"If you still got her number, could you pass it this way? She sounds way more interesting today than when we met."