The Best Stripper in San Diego
Janker found the studio apartment on the off chance as he was walking by a community bulletin board in South Park, San Diego. He jotted down the number to call on a supposed Hollywood producer’s business card he had in his wallet from a party he went to in Los Angeles. He made the call from the nearest phone booth. The year was 1999 and people still used phone booths. Janker had not been living in San Diego very long. He had been in LA for three months when Brian, a friend from back home in New Jersey, convinced him to move to San Diego and sleep on his couch until he found a place. It was now three months later and Brian’s couch was beginning to give him a bad back. The studio was in Golden Hill, not far from South Park.
To get to the studio you had to walk around the back alley and turn left into the parking lot, pass under the palm tree and old rusted basketball hoop, walk up a couple steps to the first studio on the left, number 1 on the door. These were not precisely the directions he jotted down in the phone booth, but close enough. He met the landlord outside studio 1. His name was Charlie. He was a nice Mexican man in his fifties. Charlie said in his Mexican accent that the room was available immediately if he wanted it. He didn’t ask for any prior references or two months in advance- just that months rent, which was unusual and a good thing for Janker.
Charlie opened the door to the studio and turned the light on. It was a dark room without windows on one side. It was a decent sized studio with the kitchen and bathroom adjacent. Charlie walked through the kitchen and opened the door to the bathroom- nothing special- linoleum flooring of the black chequered variety, no bath, just a shower. Janker laid down the first month’s rent on the kitchen counter- three hundred and fifty dollars. He could handle that amount with his delicatessen (The Cheese Shop) wages. He shook Charlie’s hand for a second time. Charlie said he lived in Mexico but would be around for a couple of days at the beginning of each month to collect rents.
So that was it, no more Brian’s sofa across town near the airport where the planes took off, not that it ever stopped Janker from catching sleep. Janker was not exactly narcoleptic but he could fall asleep anywhere- in a chair, at a party...you name it. Janker had the gift of sleep. He sat on the edge of the naked bed taking in his new place. The room had the fresh smell of a good carpet clean. He decided to cross the room and pull the blinds and lift the window up to let some air into the room. It was hot and stuffy. The breeze was instant. He sat back down on the bed. He kicked his grey New Balance trainers off and they fell to the floor. He stretched himself out on the bed. He would have to buy some sheets and a desk or something to write and type on. He would have to go to Brian’s and get his clothes. He fell off asleep.
He woke up about fifteen minutes later when there was a knock at the door. He opened it disappointed to be awoken from his almost slumber disrupted into a mere catnap. Standing there in front of him was a strawberry blonde ding bat straight out of central casting. Her tits were barely contained by her leopard print bathing suit top. She wore cut off blue jeans too small for her ass, which was rather large and bulging out. She wasn't sucking on a lollipop but she should have been. Instead she chomped away on her chewing gum, hand on hip in a Lolita type pose but she was thankfully not that young. She was nineteen.
‘Do you have a cigarette? She asked. ‘I live just next door, saw you moved in. I heard you talking to Charlie. I owe him rent.’
Janker was perplexed. Why was this woman, this young girl knocking on his door for a cigarette, this was peculiar behaviour?
‘A cigarette?’
‘Yeah, you smoke?’
‘I do, but I’m all out. I'm taking a break.'
‘Do you want me to go buy you some?’
She was blunt to say the least. It certainly took Janker off guard, but Janker was no fool. She was cute in a ding bat way that Woody Allen would have found amusing and made mincemeat out of on paper and a gem on screen.
‘Perhaps we can go for a little walk to the shop together. You’ll have to show me as I have no idea where things are around here.’
‘I’ll give you the tour then. I'm Strawberry Kelly.’
Janker walked through the door and out into complete sunshine.
‘Wow! That’s a nice name- a little long. Can I just call you Kelly or Strawberry?’
‘That’s what everyone calls me.’
‘What..Strawberry or Kelly?’
‘Either or, or both.’
‘I think I’ll stick with Strawberry. I already know a girl named Kelly.’
They walked down the alley toward the main road and the shops. Strawberry Kelly popped another piece of gum into her mouth from the pack in her pocket and offered Janker one.
‘No thank you.’
‘What’s your name? You forgot to tell me.’
‘Janker.’
‘That’s a funny name.’
‘I know.’
‘Do you drink?’
‘Beer mostly, sometimes wine.’
‘I hate beer. I'm a vodka girl and Kool Aid kid. I make it great. Look, I'm going to give you the tour. If you want the best Mexican food I suggest that place over there. It’s the best around here. I can’t tell you about the bar there because I've never been in there. That pizza place there on the corner is no good, too doughy. This here place in front of us is the best place to buy cigarettes and beer, or vodka, well unless you want to walk far. The other place is about a five minute walk.’
‘It’s very convenient.’
‘Convenient, that’s a strange word, where you from?’
‘New Jersey.’
‘New Jersey, I never met no one from New Jersey. Where’s that?’
‘Near New York.’
‘Oh, I heard a New York.’
Janker was a little embarrassed as they strolled around the shop as there were other customers and his dialogue with Strawberry Kelly was rather banal. Strawberry Kelly was never going to win any prizes for her intelligence or education. Her intelligence lied elsewhere, in surviving. Janker grabbed a dozen eggs, a loaf of bread, a six-pack of beers, made his way to the counter and got in line. Strawberry Kelly stood very close to him, practically touching him, so much so that Janker began to get a warm butterfly feeling inside and a hard on began to rise in his shorts. Strawberry Kelly was eyeing the vodka bottles and licking her lips. She looked as if she was chewing tobacco with the amount of the chewing gum in her mouth. Janker was tying to be inconspicuous as he admired her freckle dotted cleavage from above. How did he end up in this situation with this total stranger who was now his neighbour?
‘Would you like me to buy you some vodka?’ he asked.
‘Oh, you’re a sweetheart, Janker. Thanks honey. Don’t worry; I've got Kool Aid at home.’
‘My pleasure, Strawberry.’
Janker ordered a bottle of vodka and a couple of packs of Marlboro red on top of the eggs, milk, crackers and cheese. They walked back the short distance to their studios- brown papers bags in hand, smoking cigarettes in the San Diego sun. Dogs barked in the distance and Strawberry Kelly’s lips smacked in rhythm. How could she chew gum and smoke at the same time?, Janker thought. Strawberry Kelly chewed her gum like a truck driver waiting impatiently for the barricade to come up at a train crossing. Janker’s mother always told him not to smack his lips while chewing and he wanted to say the same to Strawberry Kelly. But Janker wasn’t one to be rude.
‘Do you chew Strawberry gum?’ he asked out of the blue, breaking the silence that had momentarily consumed them.
‘I do. How did you guess?’
‘I could smell it before when we were in the shop. How can you chew gum and smoke at the same time?’
‘It’s nice- it sweetens the smoke. Sure you don’t want a piece?’
‘No, thank you. Strawberry Kool Aid as well with your vodka?’
‘You are psychic, Junker . . . My grandma was a psychic.’
‘Janker.’
‘Janker? I love that name. If I have a boy I might name him that, you know.’
‘Thanks, Strawberry, I like your name too.’
They passed under the palm tree and the old rusted basketball hoop and walked up the steps.
‘I’m just going to mine to mix up some Kool Aid and ice.’
'Don’t forget the vodka.’
'The vodka is the secret ingredient, and the Kool Aid.'
'Don't forget the ice cubes. In this weather ice cubes are very important.'
'You're funny, Janker.'
‘Is there anywhere to sit around here?
‘I just sit on the ground and lean my back against the wall over there. Or sit like an Indian.'
Janker put out his cigarette on the decking beneath him, then picked up the butt and stuffed it in his pocket. His back was still bothering him from sleeping on Brian’s couch so he tried to stretch a little. He was very stiff and gave up the idea. He took the packet of Marlboro reds from his faded blue Fruit o the loom pocket tee and tapped out another cigarette. He sat down on the decking between the two windows and lit up. He felt tired and when he was tired smoking made him feel even more tired, especially in Summer. Strawberry Kelly was yapping away through the half open door. She talked about her psychic grandma and her predictions that the world would end in the year 2001, that something big was going to happen. Janker gathered Strawberry Kelly must have some gypsy roots. She was the type of girl who’d been around, who learned survival on the streets, not in a classroom. She certainly knew how to make a sweet drink.
She came out through the door to her studio some moments later with two tall glasses of vodka and strawberry Kool Aid. The ice in the glasses banged against the side of the glasses to make that thirsty sound. Janker always loved that sound. Strawbery Kelly passed Janker his glass and sat down Indian style in front of him. She was waiting for Janker’s reaction to her drink. It meant a great deal to Strawberry Kelly that Janker, or anyone, heaped praise on her drink. Janker wasn’t really aware of this as he smoked on his cigarette in one hand, glass in the other, looking at a British Airways 747 cruising through the sky to the airport to land. Janker took a sip just after a deep drag then exhaled the smoke and made a funny squinty-eyed face. Too sweet.
‘You don’t like it.’
‘No, it’s..’
‘Well, what do you think of my drink?’
‘It’s sweet.’
'Of course it’s sweet, but do you like it?’
The drink was not Janker’s cup of tea but he was not one to tell the truth if it meant offending someone so he lied. Besides- Strawberry Kelly was very proud of it.
‘It’s very refreshing.’
‘Oh, you’re a sweetheart, Janker. I knew you’d love it. Everyone does.’
‘Strawberry Kelly’s Strawberry Vodka concoction.’
‘Con..coc.. what kind of word is that?’
‘You have never heard the word concoction?’
‘That can’t be a word. What does it mean?’
‘It means a special type of drink.’
‘Wow! Cun. Cock.. I can’t say it.’
‘Concoction.’
‘Concoction.’
‘See, you can say it.’
‘It sounds like a dirty word to me. Sounds sexy.’
‘Only if you have a dirty mind.’
‘Nothing wrong with a dirty mind- do you have a dirty mind, Janker?’
‘No, not me; you have got the wrong guy.’
‘That’s a shame. You can come see me at work some day.’
‘Where do you work?’
‘I work at Cheetahs.’
‘Cheetahs? What do you do?’
‘Guess!’
‘I don’t know… You’re a waitress.’
‘Close. Try again.’
‘You flip burgers.’
‘Close. I did work at Jack n the Box a couple of years ago, but not for long. Try again.’
‘You’re a secretary, no sorry, you’re a…?’
‘I'm a stripper, Janker.’
‘… A stripper. Wow!’
‘You don’t seem impressed.’
‘No, I'm… I'm very impressed, just surprised. I know I shouldn't be. Now that I think about it. It makes perfect sense.’
‘Well I am the best stripper at Cheetah’s- best in San Diego actually.’
‘That’s great. What makes a good stripper?’
‘What do you think?’
‘Well, there must be some tricks of the trade… things you learn along the way…or is it something that’s simply natural?’
‘It’s all natural, Janker.’
‘Perhaps you could give me a private show?’
‘Do you have a lot of dough in dem pockets? It is my day off today but I do private shows. Sean’s supposed to come by later but he won’t mind me making some extra.’
‘Who’s Sean?’
‘The love of my life. I told you bout him?’
‘No… you didn't.’
Janker hid his disappointment- that he wasn't bothered by the fact that his afternoon would not be one having mad sex with Strawberry Kelly. He didn't want a private show with the best stripper in San Diego. He wanted the real thing. Strawberry Kelly just broke his bubble. She proceeded to describe her relationship with Sean and Janker pretended he was happy for her.
‘Yeah, Sean’s good now. Clean, out of prison. You’ll like him, Janker.’
‘Prison?’
‘Yeah, he nearly killed a man. He was bad into drugs then. He’s much better now with them. He can handle the drugs now, not like before. He was young.’
‘What kind of drugs we talking about?’
‘Oh, you name it. Sean is amazing. He is strong. He protects me, you know. He is my man. Even when he was in prison those years I never went with another guy. He said he’d kill me if I did.’
Janker took the last sip from the glass. Both his legs were asleep from sitting with his back against the wall and they began to get that ticklish yet irritating feeling of pins and needles that makes it difficult to stand without either laughing or crying. His back had now completely stiffened despite the vodka. He realised that his afternoon with Strawberry Kelly needed to come to an end. He foresaw the boyfriend Sean returning and kicking his head in for drinking with his girl. He tried to shake free the ticklish yet irritating feeling in his legs.
‘Are you okay? You look like you’re going to fall over.’
‘No it’s just my legs are asleep. It happens when I sit down on the ground or floor. Listen Strawberry Kelly, I need to head across town and pick up some things. I’ll see you later. Thanks for the concoction.’
‘You’re leaving already. Do you have any weed to smoke?’
‘Sorry, no.’
‘Oh, I hope Sean brings some back. I asked him to but he prefers the harder stuff. I like a good smoke and my vodka and Kool Aid. Don’t you go stealing my recipe.’
‘Don’t worry; I won’t.’
‘When ya coming back? I can give you that private show so long as it’s not too late.’
‘Okay, Janker. Give us a hug then and see you later maybe.’
Janker gave Strawberry Kelly a reluctant hug. The warm butterfly feeling of before was now replaced by paranoia and panic. He locked the door to his studio with his new keys, waved goodbye to Strawberry Kelly sipping her glass in the sun. She waved back to him, then un-strapped her bikini top and lifted it over her head revealing her pierced nipples. They sparkled in the sun.
‘Just a peep, Janker. See you later.’
Janker couldn't help but smile and laugh to himself as he walked down the steps passed the palm tree and rusted old basketball hoop and made his way to the other side of San Diego to pick up his things at Brian’s place.
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