Chapter Two
I arrived at Harry’s on time. I skipped the grey interview pants and wore jeans, a black T-shirt and black sneakers. A girl has to match. I didn’t know what to do about a purse. Did I bring it on the job? If not, where did I put all my stuff? I was sure Hector and friends didn’t have this problem. In the end I decided on a fanny pack. I knew it was a major fashion faux pas, but I was sure the boys at Harriet’s wouldn’t notice. I just hid the offending bag at my building because the other type of “boys” in West Hollywood would notice and I would never live it down.
My two closest friends in LA were Jeff and Jason. They were always very quick to tell me when I needed to moisturize, wax my eyebrows and when I should use whitening strips. They were definitely into high maintenance beauty, but when they complimented me I knew they weren’t just blowing smoke up my butt. I knew I earned it. It was great getting a man’s perspective. Well, at least a gay man’s perspective.
Harry had told me to park my car in the lot behind the office and to come through the back door. I parked next to a white Cadillac Escalade with gold trim and rims that looked like the ones that spun around. There was enough gold to make even a pimp jealous. I guessed the owner wasn’t concerned about the environment. Next to the Escalade was a silver minivan. Obviously that person didn’t see the big sign that said in obnoxiously big black letters, “If you don’t belong, you will be towed.”
I grabbed my fanny pack and cringed hoping no one would take my picture and put it in a magazine with a black bar covering my eyes in the “What not to wear” section. I debated with myself about whether to put the top up on my old Volkswagen Beetle. I left it down, there was nothing to steal anyway.
I took a deep breath, opened Harry’s back door and walked in. I was instantly greeted by the pungent mixture of flowery perfume and hairspray. I walked through a small hallway and passed a bathroom on my right and peeked in. Harry must really like silk flowers. There was a vase of them on the counter, one in the corner on a stand and another behind the toilet. I smiled to myself picturing Hector and friends using the bathroom.
I came into the office and saw Hector and his two minis weighing down the sofa in the same spots they were before. They seemed to be wearing the same clothes. Maybe it was a uniform. Would I be assigned a wife beater tank, baggy khaki shorts and white knee socks?
As soon as Hector saw me he got up, smiled and said, “Hey, I’m Hector.” He held out his hand. “And these two are Gus and Victor.” He pointed at each one when he said their names. “Don’t you assholes know any manners? Stand up and shake hands. Bunch of hicks don’t know nothin’.” They both grinned and did what he asked.
I was surprised. Somehow I didn’t expect Hector to be correcting people on their manners.
Harry’s office door flew open and she came waltzing out. She was wearing a red and white polka dot skirt, a white blouse and black heels. She looked like Minnie Mouse on steroids.
“Hey, Goldilocks, are you ready to get started?” She said winking at me.
I nodded. Was I Goldilocks? I wanted to say look at the roots honey. I owe my blondness to my hairdresser’s expertise at highlights and my ability to pay him an excessive amount of money. Some things you can’t scrimp on.
Harry scooted out Gus and Victor by calling them a bunch of shitheads and to go earn her some money. They nudged each other, grabbed some work orders from their box and left. They only get one box? She explained the procedures and how to fill out the paperwork while Hector sat on the sofa talking on his phone in Spanish.
When Harry was done she smacked my ass and told us both, “To get the hell out of here.” If she had been a man I would have decked her, but for some reason I wasn’t offended by the ass slapping.
Before we left Hector grabbed a little spray canister and gave it to me. “Put this in that old lady thing.”
Old lady thing? I’m being dissed for my fashion choices by Mr. Wife Beater?
“You mean my fanny pack?”
“If that’s what it’s called. My nana wears one.”
Great. Me and his nana.
“What is this thing?” I said holding up the silver canister.
“It’s pepper spray.”
“Why would I need this?”
“You’ll see.”
That didn’t sound promising.
“I don’t even know how to use it.”
“You just aim and shoot. Just make sure you aim for their face, not yours.” He chuckled and shook his head laughing at his own joke. “If you do those blue eyes of yours will be changing into red ones mighty quick.” More laughing. At least he seemed happy.
When we got to the parking lot Hector looked at my car. “This is yours isn’t it?”
“Yeah. Why?”
Hector started laughing and slapping his thigh. “I knew it. Those two dumb asses owe me twenty bucks.”
“You guys bet on what type of car I had?”
“Yep, and I won. I knew you’d have one of these girlie shit type cars. Dumb and dumber said you’d have a hybrid to be all hip to the environment.” He got his keys out of his pocket and clicked the alarm of the silver minivan. Then he mumbled something about how the pimp mobile was the boss’s car.
I wasn’t sure why the three of them betting on what kind of car I drove bothered me, but it did. “Cool car.” I said hopping into the passenger seat.
“What about it?” He asked looking at me suspiciously.
“Nothing, I was just wondering if you copied all your friends in the PTA?”
“Hey, I’m sensing some attitude,” he said.
“Oh. And nice socks. Are you afraid of varicose veins and need a little extra support?”
I took off my fanny pack, shoved the pepper spray in it, threw a Barbie doll that was on the floor into the backseat and slammed the door shut.
“Whoa, little girl is hitting me with some major ‘tude,” he said while adjusting the air conditioning before pulling out onto Hollywood Boulevard towards the Westside.
“The little girl comment. Not helping,” I said wagging my finger at him.
“Alright. Calm down. Damn, you’re almost as bad as my wife.” He huffed and shook his head.
I crossed my arms and glared at him.
He gave me confused look. “Fuck. I really don’t mean to make you pissed off. It’s just I hang out with guys, not chicks. Unless of course I was gonna see them naked. But that’s different.”
“You mean to say that you’re not really a complete sexist ass. You just pretend to be.”
“Yeah, that’s right.”
Hector and I parked in front of a house in the flats of Beverly Hills. It was one of those typical McMansions, a huge house built on a too small lot. A testament to ego rather than to taste.
During the drive over my temper had died down. I realized Hector was not insulting me. He just really didn’t know how to talk to women. I had come to this conclusion by overhearing his conversations with his wife who had called at least four times. He had talked to her in a mixture of Spanish and English so I was able to understand some of it. I actually felt sorry for him. It sounded like he was getting a considerable scolding for something he had done. Through it all he never yelled and was pretty mellow. It seemed like this was an everyday occurrence. I didn’t want him to know I was being nosy so I got out my phone and pretended to sort through my messages.
“What are we doing here?” I asked. Hector hadn’t spoken to me on the drive over. I think he was afraid of saying the wrong thing.
“See that black Ferrari?” He pointed to the driveway two houses up. There was a big gate, but we could see the car behind it.
“Yes.”
“We’re waiting for the piece of shit owner to leave it somewhere where it ain’t locked up, so we can nab it.”
I was confused. I expected to be going to a different sort of neighborhood. Certainly not Beverly Hills. My face must have betrayed my thoughts because he said, “What?
You think people in this neighborhood can’t be deadbeats?”
I never really thought about it before. But yes, I really didn’t think my first repo would be in Beverly Hills.
“Yeah, I guess I did.”
“Shit,” the Westside is where most of our work is.” He said shit as if it was a three syllable word.
“I had no idea.”
I had wrongly assumed that I would be hanging out in the parts of town that I didn’t frequent very often.
“The more money the repo is worth the more money gets in our pocket. Harry doesn’t do any small ass stuff. I’ll tell you though these rich dick wad types are sneakier than any of the homies’ in the hood.”
Geez. I hope I didn’t have to repossess something from anyone I know. That could get a little awkward. I was ready to tell Hector as much when he started up the van and said, “There he goes.”
I looked over and saw two men; both had dark slicked back hair and an extraordinarily large amount of chest hair peeking out from the collars of their shirts. They looked like the rich types that hung out on Sunset Boulevard, drinking wine all day, pretending to be in the “business,” looking to get laid. I had to fend off quite a few in my previous food service profession.
“I’ve been following around this ass wipe for a week,” he said. “That’s why I have my wife’s van. He spotted my car on first day.”
“Why what kind of car do you have?”
He let out a whistle. “A sweet magenta Camaro. The rims alone are worth two thousand.”
No wonder this guy spotted him. That’s not exactly a blend in car in this neighborhood.
“Does it have one of those really loud engines?”
“Hell, yes it does. Man it’s got as much power as any man needs. Shit is it loud?” He said shaking his head.
“Does it have more power than this van?” I couldn’t help myself. He seemed so serious about the “power”. He said it with such reverence.
“You don’t know nothin’ about…” Hector looked at me and saw that I was smiling and stopped himself. “Alright, alright the girl can give some shit.”
We were following the Ferrari from three cars behind. Even though we were in Beverly Hills, the car still stood out. Most of the other cars were somewhat more understated. There were a lot of Mercedes, BMWs and Toyota Priuses for the Hollywood environmentalists and Hummers for those who didn’t give a crap.
“Didn’t you think your loud, magenta car would get noticed around here?”
“Look at me. I wasn’t going to blend in anyways. I might as well get some driving enjoyment.”
I looked at Hector and acknowledged he was right. It would be hard for a man with his girth to blend in anywhere. I was right about my assessment of the chest hair guys. They swung around into the valet parking lot of Sunset Plaza.
We waited in the van from across the street at a discreet distance and saw the two men walk down the street. Hector quickly pulled out and drove into the parking lot. He found a spot and hopped out. A valet guy who had long blond hair pulled into a man bun, an obvious spray tan and teeth white enough to signal a plane, came running towards us.
“Excuse me, but this is valet only,” he said.
“I’m not doing valet,” Hector said, walking past him.
“I’m sorry sir, but it’s not a choice, this area is for valet parking only.”
Hector looked more annoyed than angry.
“Man, this is my wife’s car and I am under her instructions that no one. I repeat, no one. Can drive this car but me.”
The valet parking attendant looked pained. I could understand his dilemma. Hector didn’t look like someone you’d want to piss off.
“If you don’t want us to drive the car that’s fine, but you have to still pay the seven dollars to park.”
“Seven dollars?”
The valet guy nodded.
“Man, what a frickin rip off,” Hector grumbled then reached into his wallet pulled out the seven dollars and tossed it to him. “Now, fuck off before I get mad.”
The valet guy took the money and ran. Hector reached into the back of the van while complaining how LA was a fucking rip off and pulled out some small tools. I followed him to where the Ferrari was parked. Luckily, the car was in the back part of the lot. Hector took out what looked like a long stick, slid it down between the window and the door then pulled it back up.
“Damn, this is a mother fucker.” He tried it a couple more times. “Take that, bitch,” he said. Then he reached for the handle, opened the door and fiddled with some wires.
Was this legal? I couldn’t believe I was standing there as look out, while somebody broke into a car. Within seconds I heard the Ferrari’s engine rev up. Hector got out of the car and motioned for me to get in the driver’s seat.
I shook my head. “I’ll drive the van. You deserve the power,” I said hoping the sound of the engine would entice him. I thought I would drive the van back to Harry’s and he would take the Ferrari just in case this sort of thing was in the grey area of the law.
“What I said to that guy was no bullshit. No one else drives the van but me.”
“But how will she know?” I pleaded.
“Shit. She knows everything and I don’t want to get into it with her. Now just get in the car and follow me.”
He seemed to be genuinely afraid of his wife. She did sound a little scary from what I had heard earlier. I felt a little sorry for him
“Fine,” I said and got in. It stunk like cigarettes and bad cologne.
Hector started to walk away. I rolled down the window and yelled out, “Hector, would you please bring me my bag? I don’t feel comfortable driving without my license.” Hector gave me a ‘You’ve got to be kidding me look.’
“You mean that frickin ass grandma bag?”
“Yes. Can you and your wife beater tank top get it for me?” Smart ass.
He walked away grumbling something about women and saying, “Shit.” He brought me my fanny pack and tossed it in the passenger seat.
“Here’s the repo paperwork in case you get stopped,” he said.
Stopped? By whom? I started to panic.
“Chill, Goldilocks. Sometimes people call the police. They think they can sweet talk the cops into getting their car back. My number is on the back of the paperwork if you need something. I’ll see you back at Harry’s place.” He walked back to his car and pulled out of the parking lot.
I gingerly drove the Ferrari around to follow him, as I was waiting for the light, the hairy owners came out of the restaurant, carrying takeout. When they saw me, they started yelling and running towards the car.
My heart started racing. Crap.
The two men started pounding on the car window. Pretend they aren’t there I told myself. I started to look at my cuticles. Man, I could use a manicure. The pounding was getting louder. Thank God the windows in the Ferrari were apparently industrial strength. The noise was getting louder and people were starting to stare. It was getting really embarrassing. I had to do something.
“I am legally allowed to take your car,” I finally screamed holding up the repo papers as proof. I kept repeating this hoping they would understand and stop pounding on the windows. Tired of yelling, I decided to crack the window and explain. Just as I opened my mouth the more agitated of the two reached through and yanked my hair making my head slam against the window.
Ow!
“Now what, bitch?”
Whoa. What’s with the name calling?
The hair puller had a strong accent French accent. And I presumed his weapon of choice was his cologne. Yuck. He wore enough to knock over a small elephant.
“Let go of my hair,” I yelled. Paying for highlights was bad enough. I couldn’t imagine what fixing a big bald patch would cost.
The guy holding my hair looked at his friend and they both started laughing. “This dumb bitch wants me to let go.”
Again with the name calling?
&
nbsp; “I’m within the law to take your car. Now, let go,” I yelled grimacing in pain as he pulled my hair harder.
I was getting mad. The light had changed, I had a bunch of cars behind me and this guy was calling me names and grabbing my hair. I felt like I was eight years old fighting with one of my brothers waiting for one of us to say “uncle”.
“If you let go of my hair, I’ll give you back your car,” I bluffed.
The two them started laughing again. I could feel my temper rising. I had enough of their idiotic cackling. Maybe I should bite him like I use to with my brothers. Then again I’d have to actually touch him. No thanks.
The light turned green again. I wanted to bolt out of there, but this guy had my hair and I was not going to lose a hunk of it. I searched around for my fanny pack and pulled out the canister Hector had given me, yanked off the lid and squirted it right in the guy’s face. The man started screaming, covering his eyes with his hands. His friend jumped back with his arms in the air, as if to say he gave up.
“I’m going to fucking kill you,” hair puller shouted.
Hmm, a little scary, but overall that was pretty easy. This pepper spray stuff was fabulous.
I punched the gas pedal making my fanny pack fly off the seat. All my stuff fell onto the floor. Dammit. I reached down, shoved it back in and took off down Sunset Boulevard towards Hollywood. I was nervous and shaking a bit, but for some reason I started to laugh. I was still laughing when I saw the lights flashing behind me.
I fumbled for my phone and told Hector what was happening. He said his usual shit and that he would be there in a few. I wasn’t sure if the sight of a three hundred pound man with tattoos covering a good portion of his body was going to help, but he was the supposed expert.
I tried to explain to the police officers what happened, but they didn’t seem to hear me. Instead they asked me to stand away from the car with their guns drawn. I told them how I was a perfectly within my rights to be driving this car because I was a repossession professional, but they weren’t listening. When I admitted to them that I didn’t own the car. And yes I had sprayed someone with pepper spray. They slapped handcuffs on me and we headed towards their police car.
This was not good.
“Hey, what the fuck are you doing?” Hector yelled from across the street. He trotted across Sunset Boulevard holding out his hands daring the cars to not let him pass.
I looked at the police officers to see what they were going to do. I didn’t want Hector to get shot.
“You motherfuckers are arresting my assistant man.”
I was his assistant? I don’t think so.
The police officers looked me over and started laughing.
“I told you,” I said wanting to stick my tongue out. My maturity level was at a new low.
“Did Harry recruit her at the sorority house?”
Sorority? They didn’t even know me.
“For your information I was never in a sorority. I found them completely archaic and discriminatory.”
They laughed even harder. I looked at Hector in disgust and turned around showing him I still had the handcuffs on.
“Hello? I’m sorry to interrupt your little ‘I’m a bunch of assholes meeting’, but I’m still handcuffed here.”
The two cops looked almost identical. Both were Hispanic, medium height, with dark hair and eyes, except one looked like he had been eating more donuts than the other.
“I don’t know. We got a call that she sprayed pepper juice in some guy’s face,” the donut one said.
Hector looked at me for an answer.
“The guy grabbed my hair through the window and wouldn’t let go,” I explained.
“See the dick head had it coming,” Hector said to them.
“Alright Hector, show us your papers,” the skinnier one said.
I told Hector the papers were still in the front seat of the car. When Hector went to get them, donut cop unlocked the cuffs. I looked down at my wrists and instinctively started to rub them.
When Hector was walking back a generic looking white sedan pulled over to the curb. A guy who was a major hottie stepped out and greeted Hector. He was a couple inches taller than Hector had longish straight brown hair and a drool worthy body. Even though he did the complicated hand shake thing he wasn’t wearing the wife beater uniform. He had on baggy jeans and a long sleeved, grey top. I heard them talking in Spanish. They both looked at me and started smiling.
Now I was being made fun of in two languages.
The mystery guy looked at the two cops and did that recognition nod that men do then glanced my way again, got in his car and took off.
Hector walked over and asked, “Goldilocks, you okay?”
I nodded.
I couldn’t believe I was actually responding to the name Goldilocks.
Hector gave the paperwork to the cops. They saw it was legit and after apologizing to me took off.
“Hey, Hector who was that guy in the white car?”
“A friend.”
Duh, I figured that out.
“Is he a cop?” I asked.
“What’s with the twenty questions?”
“Twenty? I’ve asked two.”
“It seems like twenty. Let’s get this car back so you don’t have to get all jiggy with your pepper spray again.” He did a little karate move when he said this and then laughed at himself.
“You’re hilarious.” I said giving him a bitch look.
He looked guilty then mumbled something about me following him back to Harry’s place. I could hear him saying his long drawn out shit as he drove off.