in the mind. These guys end up with their cocks looking like yams messing around with that stuff.”
“Yams?” I ask. I stifle a laugh. “Well, I will not suggest you take a pill.” I’m not anti-pill. I just believe that most problems that afflict humanity are, as Joe said, in the mind. “I have a plan of action. This plan of action will require your absolute faith in my abilities. You cannot ask questions. I will tell you what to do and you must follow my orders to a tee. You are a smart man, Joe. You are a powerful man. I’ve seen your work.” Joe smiles. “I will get you back into the shape you were at. No, I will get you into better shape. You will be a beast. Are you ready to hear my plan, Joe?”
“Yeah, dude” he says. “Shit, you should go into politics!”
“Doesn’t pay enough” I tell him. He laughs. “Okay, now listen. I am going to ask you a series of questions. Your responses will dictate our next step. Do you have a problem with sleeping with older women?”
“No.”
“Do you have a problem if said older woman is married?”
“No.”
“Will you be willing to meet, bed, and never see this woman again tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
“Good” I say. I’m sure you can see where I’m heading with this. I tell Joe to contact me at noon tomorrow. He shakes my hand and thanks me. I rush to the restroom and wash furiously with hot water.
SIX
I walk over to Tony’s and the windows are boarded up. The sign says that it is open so I walk in. The place is busier than it was the day before. Ira is sitting at my booth and smoking. No one seems to care. She sees me and smiles. It’s a forced smile.
“The usual?” she asks me.
“Yes” I reply. I make it a note to always ask how someone is doing. “How are you doing, Ira?”
“My ex husband called me last night,” she says. “Says he wants to borrow a few thousand dollars.”
“Why does that upset you so much?” I ask. I don’t even bother to ask which ex husband she’s talking about. They all ask for money.
“He wants the money to buy his new girlfriend a wedding ring,” she says. “Can you believe that?!”
“You have your phone on you?” I ask her. She pulls her cell phone from her bra and hands it to me blushing. “Really, Ira?”
“Well, I didn’t know you were gonna use it!” she says. “What are you doing with it?” I hand her back the phone.
“Call him,” I say. She does. This is why I like Ira. She’s from a breed of woman that no longer exists and never will again. Women today have focused so much on being equal with men that they have forgotten what it means to be a woman. You hear women tell me to be a man often. Tell a woman to be a woman and see how she reacts. Ira hands me the phone as it’s ringing.
“Hello” her ex husband says. The phone says his name is Steve. “You decide to pony up the cash?”
“Steve, hello” I say. “I am aware that you would like to get money from your ex wife Ira to purchase a wedding ring for your new girlfriend. Is this correct?”
“Yeah” he says. “What’s it to you?”
“I am a friend of Ira’s and the very idea that she is stressing herself over deciding whether or not to loan you this money which you and I both know you will never return annoys me. I do not like being annoyed, Steve. Now, Steve, I want you to never ask Ira for money again. Will this be a problem?”
“Fuck you” Steve says. “Put Ira on the phone.”
“No,” I say. “And you will listen to me. Say another word and I will do things to you that will make you useless to a woman.” I just watched “Sin City.” That is a great film. “Ira is very important to me. When Ira has a bad day I have a bad day. I don’t like having bad days, Steve. You have two choices. Man up and buy your girlfriend a ring with what money you have or continue to emasculate yourself by calling a woman that you beat with the very same fists you caress your shiny new girlfriend with and asking for money. Which will it be, Steve?”
“You’re an asshole” he says and hangs up. I hand Ira back her phone.
“What did he say?” she asks me.
“He wont be needing your money” I tell her. “Now how about that coffee and rice?”
When did manipulation become such a bad thing? Likely when some very ignorant person got the idea into their head to manipulate an even more ignorant person. The next thing you know manipulation gets tagged with the social stigma of being a bad thing. I for one believe manipulation is one of the best weapons we have against weak-minded individuals.
My entire fortune has been built by my uncanny ability to manipulate others into doing what they want. Yes, they pay me to convince them to do what they want. You have no idea how many people walk around afraid to do what they need to do. My former fiancé is one of those people. And she is sitting across from me crying. I almost forget what she looks like when she is not crying. If I passed her in the streets smiling I would not know who she was.
She claims that she can no longer sleep with her husband and wants me to help her out financially. This, of course, will not happen. I need to figure out how she even gained access to the building. I listen to her for exactly three minutes until I hold my hand up to silence her.
“Please, stop talking" I say to her. She does. She knows that if she continued talking after I told her to stop that I would have her escorted from the building immediately. "You are no longer a client. You are no longer my fiancé. You are currently a trespasser. I will not be giving you any money."
“How can you be so cruel?” she asks me. "We used to have...”
“Thank you for using the past tense,” I tell her. "Maggie, you left me for a richer man. At one time I was set to marry you. Now you are tired of sleeping with him and need money since he no longer gives it to you because you will not sleep with him. And you truly believe that I will give you money?" Maggie stares at me waiting for a response. I never raise my voice. But I am close. It’s been a bad week. Ira told me yesterday that Tony's, the restaurant she works at and allows me to smoke indoors, is closing. “Leave.”
“You're gonna regret this, Cyrus,” she says. She picks up her purse, a Versace that I know for a fact costs over $6,000, and leaves but not before a final word. "You're so gonna..."
“Regret this, I get it, you are upset,” I say as she slams my door shut.
They say that women are too emotional to handle certain jobs and careers. I do not believe this to be true. They are not emotional enough. Men get their feelings out throughout the day. Yes, many of the ways they do it are through acts of aggression but this is not about how an emotion is released. The fact is that it is released. Women contain all of their emotions until eventually it explodes in a Molotov of tears. I do not cry or yell. Nor do I punch my steering wheel. I have paid far too much for such foolishness. I release my emotions in other ways. One of those ways will be here in five minutes.
SEVEN
I have been accused of being sexist. One of the main weapons women use as an example of double standards and chauvinistic men is the fact that men are socially allowed to sleep around while women are labeled with titles like sluts, whores, and tramps if they choose to do the same. I will never accuse a woman of these things. I believe a healthy sex life makes the world go around. Just not my world. If a woman chooses to sleep with as many men as she wants I have no issues with it. As long as they keep their mouths shut.
Stephanie Wilkins keeps her mouth shut.
I acquired Stephanie as a client weeks after Maggie left me for a man with deeper pockets than mine. At the time. She is a call girl. This is the term she prefers to use though I question the use of the word "girl" as she is 49 years old. I have slept with her eight times. She hired me to convince her to continue taking clients even though she is now married to the city's mayor and if she were caught doing what she does best his career and her life would be over. So why does she still do it?
Money.
"I was almost caught last week," she te
lls me. "I stepped out of a motel with a client and a guy I recognized from the papers was there doing an interview with the owner about a recent murder that happened there. I panicked and ran off before he could see me. I don't know how much longer I can keep this up."
"And what do you want me to do for you?" I ask her. She was obviously terrified about being caught but the money she made and the sex she enjoyed kept her going. She was good at what she did. I managed to learn a few new tricks with her. Sex was like a dance and she was a great partner. She slowed down at the right times and sped up just when I needed her to.
“Convince me to stop,” she said in a barely audible whisper. "I'm afraid of what will happen if my husband or God forbid the papers found out."
“Then stop,” I tell her. She looks at me surprised. "Why are you surprised I said that?"
"Because I thought you liked sleeping with me" she says.
"What does that have to do with this?" I ask her. She looks confused. Good.
Even the most confident woman in the world can be brought down to the level of a 13 year old girl with a face covered in blemishes if you know exactly what not to say. I could have responded to her last statement in a number of ways that could have either angered her, flattered her, or planted the idea that she is better than she actually is.