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Funny Stories by Dick Oakes, Jr.

September 26, 2016 Leave a comment Go to comments
By Dick Oakes, Jr.

By Dick Oakes, Jr.

I was minding the Towels by the Pound joint when a couple of sex perverts walked in. You could tell right away.

And the one guy said, “what’s your most absorbent towel?” He was a real fruit, this one.

“Look, they’re all about the same. They’re towels by the pound. There ain’t no varied degrees of quality.”

“But, what about this one?” He picked up a towel at random. “What kinds of fluids will this absorb?”

I looked over in the corner. The other guy was already beating off.

It took me all of two minutes to clear the place.

When I got the doors locked, I lit a cigarette. My hands were trembling.

What’s with you, Oakes? Just a couple of twilighters. Never bothered you before.

I heard a door open and shut in the back.

“I shut it early,” I called out. “I’m going for a drink. Going for a drink.”

She appeared in the doorway.

“Couple of homos was in– one of ’em tried to…well…”

“What, Dick?” The old girl was lit. I felt half-bad about it.

“Skip it.”s-l1600

 

I went out and got in the old car and then I drove for several miles until I came to the edge of town. There was a brown mountain range off in the distance. I pulled into a place called the Skyland. Ugly modern design– nothing but glass and cement. There were a couple of late model sedans parked haphazardly in the lot.

It was hot as hell.

The joint was cool– you could hear an air conditioner running somewhere. They had a twangy guitarist playing over in one corner. There were two guys at the bar. After I ordered, one of them came over and sat down next to me.

“Listen, buddy, I’d just rather sit here alone and…”

He cut me off. “I ain’t gonna’ take up too much of your time but I’ve got something you gotta’ see.”

He produced a suitcase from somewhere. There were books inside.

“Tucker Nightstand. Oh, yeah. Serious stuff right here.”

I looked at him. He had a square face and a bushy mustache and he smelled like cologne.

“Tucker Nightstand, 3000 series. Now, these bad boys will cost you $1.95 in some of the classier adult joints but I’m willing to let them go for $1.50 each. Now, you do the math. That saves you forty-five cents a copy. Whattdya’ think?”

I finished off the bourbon and called for another.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he said. Then he laughed oddly. “You’re thinking, forty-five cents, who gives a shit? Am I right?”

“I’m thinking about this bourbon.”

He ignored it. “Hey, just have a look buddy. Look at what we got here. Campus Tramp, Pound it in Jason, Gas Pump Harlot, Lust Pro. All from the 3000 series.”

“You know about the 3000 series. Tell me you know about the 3000 series?”

I stood up and threw a ten on the bar. I turned to leave but then I thought better of it.

“Alright, let me have one of them.”

“Yessir!” He was god damned happy about it. “Take any you like, any at all.”

I picked out something called Singles Pad and got the hell out of there.

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