Brutality is the father of all societies. It is our heritage. As a species it is a birthright that you can only try and hide from. Childhood naiveté can only be salvaged in pieces through denial. You do what you want. I'm keeping my head down.
The 2 street bar I worked at was literally at the end of the road. It was close to the docks, and there was a truck stop just down the block. The bar was populated with longshore men, steel workers, truckers and petty criminals from the neighborhood. I constantly had to throw out lot lizards (truck stop prostitutes) who would wander in from down the street. One night another notorious neighborhood crack whore/lot lizard came in. The bar was empty, it was raining and storming outside with lightning flashing and the shutters slamming back and forth. She was soaking wet, wearing a hoodie pulled over her head. I had thrown her out two weeks before for trying to turn tricks in the bar, but she pleaded for me to let her come in out of the rain. I was feeling soft and was a little hungry for company so I let her buy a mug of Budwieser with nickels and dimes and I sat on the beer cooler across from her. She didn't really say much for a while, sitting there soaked, her face covered in grime and the hood still pulled over her head. Finally she pulled down the hood. The long ratty dirty brown hair that adorned her head was missing. Now reduced to an eighth inch stubble."Does it look bad?" she asked. embarrassed.
"Uh, no, no you look nice." I said, lying.
"All the truckers think I look like a bull dyke. I can't get a date" she said with an air of frustration.
"No, no, it looks good." I said thinking the real issue was probably that she looked like she had rolled around in an ashtray and smelled like a dumpster.
"But uh, why did you do it?"
"well..." she said matter of factly. "a couple of weeks ago this guy beat me in the back of the head with a hammer. I never went back to the hospital to get the staples removed and the blood was dreading up my hair really bad. I couldn't take it anymore so I shaved it off."
Now as I was trying to process the words coming out of her mouth, she slowly turned her head to show me an amazing spider-web of scab and puss stretching out over her skull. It looked similar to an egg shell that had been smacked hard by a spoon.
"Oh." I said "I can see how that would be irritating."
Then she offered to suck my cock for a 40 of old E. My que to I throw her back out into the rain. I sat there alone in a building shaking from thunder and lightning.
My Company
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