Read Online Magnolia Blossoms by Rhonda Dennis - Free Book Online Page A

over, my eyes light up. A prostitute! They know everything about landing men. I rush over to the freezer and open the box that used to hold fish sticks, but now holds my savings. I’m sure that it’s plenty enough to buy some consultation time with a prostitute. I’ve watched enough TV to know that I’ll be charged, even if I only want to talk. I will have to make it worth her time, at least that’s what I remember seeing on some show.
    Now, where to find a prostitute? That one might take me some time to figure out. In the meantime, I stay confined to my apartment, eating nearly everything in sight from the sheer nervousness of my upcoming encounter. I have no clue what to expect. Julia Roberts was super nice as a prostitute in Pretty Woman , the women on the TV show “Cops,” not so much. Regardless, I’ll have to wait until I don’t look like one of the Coneheads before venturing out. Eyebrows and hair might help the man-hunt along just a tad.

 
    Chapter Seven
    Finding a prostitute is easier than one may think. Dressed in my usual attire, but with the addition of a baseball cap and drawn on eyebrows, I visit my favorite porn shop, Fell A She Oh! Candi Jean is behind the counter. She’s short, red headed, and has lips so puffed up with collagen that she can barely open her mouth. Donning a naughty school girl costume, she pulls out a tube of pale pink lipstick, uncaps it, and begins to run it across her plump lips. She tosses it into a little bin near the register then turns to see who has entered the store. When she realizes it’s just me, she kicks back on her stool and begins to thumb through a magazine.
    “Welcome back to Fell A She Oh! Our new arrivals don’t come in until tomorrow,” she says very monotone and bored. I scan the store, then as an extra precaution, I walk up and down each and every aisle to make sure no one else is in there. Once I’m satisfied, I casually thumb through the trinkets on the counter while Candi Jean continues to ignore me.
    I place a pair of naughty dice and a nudie keychain in front of the register, and without looking up from her magazine, Candi Jean passes each over the scanner to ring them up. “Will that be all?” she asks, tossing them into a tiny bag.
    “Actually, I was wondering if you could help me with a situation,” I say trying to make my voice sound gravelly to disguise it.
    “Uh, you know that I already know who you are, right? Why don’t you just say what’s on your mind without the extra effect?” She tosses down the magazine and looks at me expectantly. “Oh, and whoever did your eyebrows—never go back to that person again. Ever.”
    “Thanks for the advice,” I say, pulling the bill of my cap lower. “What I’m curious about… See, what I need to know is… I’m looking for…”
    Candi Jean begins to impatiently tap her foot. “I’ve rung up the majority of your past purchases. You shouldn’t be embarrassed to ask for a thing in this store.”
    “It’s not necessarily in the store. I was sort of hoping you could tell me where I might find a lady of the night,” I whisper.
    “I wouldn’t have guessed that you swung that way, but hey, to each her own. You want to visit Hyde Street if you’re looking for high priced model types, Merryland Heights for the mid-priced crack whores, and Laurel Lane for the washed up has-beens desperate for a dollar.”
    “Thanks,” I say, forgetting my purchases behind.
    “Uh, hello!” Candi Jean says, holding the bag in the air. I dash back to grab it from her and bolt through the door. Nervous and excited, I take the long route home just so I can swing down Hyde Street. To my dismay, there are no well-dressed women propped against lamp posts, eagerly awaiting the next customer. In fact, the street is essentially barren. I wonder if Candi Jean has fed me a line of bullshit, but then I reach Merryland Heights. Immense, scary looking men hover in the shadows, while scantily clad women of all shapes,