Black Buck(81)

I turned to Brian in disbelief. He just shrugged. Who the fuck is this girl? And why does she have bigger balls than I do?

“Okay. I’ll let you stay on one condition.”

She placed her feet on the floor and relief washed over me. “What is it?”

“We role-play. If you last more than a minute, you stay. If you don’t, you leave. Sound fair?”

“Sure, but what kind of role-playing are you referring to? Doctor and patient? Cop and robber? Some weird phonesex-operator fantasy you no doubt have?”

I felt myself getting hot. “What, no? This is Sales 101. You need to try to sell me something or at least keep me on the line.”

“And what am I selling you?”

I searched my mind for something impossible, something that would allow me to get rid of her ASAP. “Okay, got it. You’re selling me a dildo.”

She threw her head back onto the couch, letting out a hard laugh. “A dildo? Seriously? I didn’t know you swung that way. Looks like we’re more alike than I thought.”

“I don’t swing that way, you fucking goblin. That’s the point. Now say ‘ring ring’ and call me up.”

“Whatever you say, Buckaroo. Ring ring.”

“Hello, this is Buck.”

“Good evening, Buck! This is Rose calling from Diamond Dildos, how are you?”

“Diamond Dildos? I think you have the wrong number.”

“No problem!” she said, smiling with closed eyes. “Happens. But since I have you on the line on this beautiful, wintry New York City night, let’s chat. I’m sure you have a few seconds for a new friend. How’s your evening?”

“Not great,” I said. “I have an unexpected houseguest I’m trying to get rid of.”

“Oh, poo.” She mimicked a sad clown. “That’s never fun. Anyway, I’ll be quick. Do you have a girlfriend?”

“No.”

“Do you have sex?”

“Of course, what kind of a question is that?”

“A good one, trust me. Do you prefer men, women, or like me, both?”

“Women,” I said firmly, unsure of where she was going.

“Would you say you make them orgasm every time? That you’re a pro?”

“Yeah, I’d say I’m better than average.”

“Most men say that, Buck, but do you know how many women fake an orgasm? Just to get it over with?”

“No,” I said, now genuinely interested and a little nervous. “How many?”

“Take a guess.”

“I don’t know, three out of ten?”

“Higher,” she said, looking up from the couch, pointing that impish grin at me.

“Five out of ten?”

“Higher.”

“Seven out of ten?”

“Almost there. So close, I can feel it. Almost.”

“Eight out of ten?”

“Ding, ding, ding! That’s right, Buckaroo. Eighty percent of women fake orgasms, which is why we at Diamond Dildos are in business. Our dildos are guaranteed to increase the number of real orgasms you give women and take the guessing out of all of it.”

I walked to the kitchen to grab a drink. I was suddenly dying of thirst, and this little fucking girl was making me sweat, but I couldn’t let her see that.

“I’m a man,” I said from the kitchen. “Why would I want the help of a dildo?”

“Why wouldn’t you?” she asked, standing up now.

“Because I’m capable of making women orgasm all on my own, thanks.”

“You can lie to yourself,” she said, laughing now. “But numbers don’t. Are you so self-conscious that you’re afraid of a little hand-blown glass dildo?”

“Of course not.”

“Then what are you afraid of? Why not think of someone other than yourself? Someone else’s pleasure instead of your own?”

“Fine!” I shouted, slamming the fridge door. “I’ll buy one if it gets you off the fucking phone.”

She cut a smile at me, exposing a set of straight white teeth. “All I need is your credit card and an address to mail the hardware. You’ve made a wise and empathetic choice, sir.”

I plopped down on the couch, and she took a light bow, rubbing my head before sitting next to me. “So, can I stay?”

“Whatever.”

Brian sat in the corner, his mouth hanging open as if he’d just seen Superman get beat up by some middle-aged average joe. “Um, what’s next?” he asked.

I closed my eyes and thought through a dozen sadistic things I could make them do while also, of course, teaching them about sales. I could make them try selling Blackface magazine again, but this time in Harlem. But I wanted something more fun, something that would make me laugh, especially after this girl, whoever she was, just passed a role-play on her first try.

“Dancing,” I said, chuckling to myself like some maniacal villain. “We’re going dancing.”



* * *





“So what club are we going to?” Rose yelled, excitement bathing her face like a cucumber mask. “I hope they let me in with my dirty boots.”

As we stood in Union Square subway station, all I could do was smile. Packed trains passed us going uptown and downtown, commuters forcing their way in and out like desperate sperm.