Savannah Dean

CW: Sexual content

The cigarette thumps the rim of the ashtray, and a wispy trail of smoke emits from her plump scarlet lips.

           Reyna asks, “How long have you smoked?”

           Savannah replies, “I started when I was fourteen shortly after my mom died. Have you ever smoked?”

           “Not a fucking chance. Shit’s not very feminine, if you ask me.” Reyna stops and laughs nervously thinking about what she said. “How did you get started living this life?” 

           “I was twenty or twenty-one,” Savannah says, “and working at Victoria’s Secret. These two women would come in sometimes, and it seemed like they always had a different dude’s card.”

           Reyna asks pointedly, “Did you ever check their ID?”

           Savannah almost laughs, “Pfft, yeah, I wasn’t that good of an employee.

           “One time though, at the register, one of them mentioned something to the other about a boyfriend. Without even thinking, I said, ‘Well, you two must have a lot of those.’ I could have crawled under the counter. God forbid I actually think before I open my fucking mouth. Thankfully, they just laughed and one said yes. Then they both began to count them, and the number was staggering. Then they started going on about trips they’d taken them on and gifts they’d received -clothes, jewelry, purses, shoes, and all kinds of shit.”

           Reyna interrupts, “Did you know they were working girls?”

           “Hell no!” Savannah says, “I was still kind of naïve at that age. I had only slept with two guys. They were church kids like me. It was in the dark -missionary- you know what I mean.

           “I started asking them questions like: Why so many? How do you keep up with them all? Do you mix up their names?

           “After so many questions, one of them realized I wasn’t getting it, she stopped me with a smile, and out of what seemed like slight frustration, said, ‘Sweetie, we’re high dollar whores.’ My face turned so red, it felt like my ear lobes were on fire! They just stood there and laughed at me.

           “After the initial shock, I started asking even more questions than before. It was like verbal diarrhea. I had never heard of a brothel or an escort. I thought they were ‘hookers’ and ‘whores’ who lived on the streets and had diseases. These two were so nice and attractive and put together and normal.”

           Reyna asks, “Did they recruit you?”

           “No,” Savannah says, “they left shortly after that. Some other ladies had walked in the store.

           “They would come in every so often. I guess they liked me, because they would always hang around and talk. I always had plenty of questions, and they never seemed to mind answering them. They always made the life seem so exciting and interesting with all the different kinds of people they met. They even made it seem glamorous with all the gifts and trips. I was working retail and eating ramen every day. They didn’t have to recruit me. I started considering a career change on my own.

           “Look, I felt that I would be able to handle it. Matter of fact, I knew I could, no problem. To be twenty-one again. My proof to myself that I could handle it? I had discovered long before this that I could suck a dick and not feel a thing about it. Sure, I was gullible, naïve, and had only had vanilla sex with two guys, but I was a church kid. There had been other things. There were plenty of hand jobs and blow jobs and whatever else we could get away with in Sunday school rooms, closets, youth group rooms.”

           Reyna says, “Yeah, I remember those days. Sneaking around with the boys. Hoping to not get caught by any of the adults, especially, the perverted ass youth pastor. I remember you mentioning yours one time. I couldn’t stand mine, that mother fucker. Anytime someone mentions church I can’t help but think of him. He would get so jealous when he saw me talking to any of the boys

“It was great at first. He was so nice. He was always around, real helpful. I felt like I was special. Even after it started, I still felt special. Then I remember talking to another girl and found out she was special too. Then I got a little older and learned more about everything. Then I didn’t feel special at all.”

           Savannah sees the fire in Reyna’s eyes, and feels the pain dwelling behind them. She grabs Reyna’s hand with a quiet smile, and the two sit quiet for a moment.

           In an attempt to distract her friend’s mind, Savannah says, “You should have seen me when I started, my first day here.

           “This place was a mad house, back then. I know you remember how the life was before tinder and online dating. It was a gigantic fucking party. Every one was drinking. There were girls running around topless. Then there was little innocent me playing on my phone at the bar. I didn’t know what in the hell to do.

           “Did I ever tell you about my first trick?! Oh fuck, it was my first line up, and I got picked. It was this big grungy-ass trucker dude, and I just remember thinking, ‘What in the hell have I gotten myself into?’ I knew I would have to screw someone like that at some point, but it didn’t become real until I was standing there looking into his greasy face.

           “So, there I was, freaking out, thinking about being under this big nasty fuck with him inside me. I didn’t even have to take my dress off. I had to dress him up like a baby -bib, diaper, pacifier, and bottle. Then we played with balloons and bubbles while we watched barney. Easiest four grand I had ever made.

           “Afterwards, I just remember thinking, ‘There’s a bit more to this than I realized.’”

           Reyna forces a grin. Savannah laughs and asks, “What made you want to do this?”

           “Easy money,” Reyna, staring at the wall, says, “that’s what lured me in. Fuck the nine to five. Yeah, easy money. Then somewhere down the line you realize nothing is easy in life, and then you figure out there is absolutely nothing that is free either.”

           Savannah pauses for a moment looking down and says, “No, there is not.”

           Both Savannah and Reyna have been in this life for some time. After all the years, they see things now that they could not see in their late teens and early twenties; things that are set in stone now. The two made peace with their choices a long time ago, but every now and then, something is triggered, and they cannot help but think about those choices, those days, those girls they once were, and the things that made them the women they are today.

           Savannah crushes her cigarette and says, “When I was in my early twenties, it wasn’t just the money. It was the gifts and the trips. It was about seeing what all I could get. How much a single client would spend on me, give me. It was like I was in a competition with the other girls to see who could get the most.

           “Then I got a little older, and the gifts were no longer trophies in a competition. They became tokens of affection. They made me feel special. Looking back now, in my mind, it was like a replacement for romance, I think. I craved that connection that comes in a normal relationship, and flowers or a new watch were as close as I could get to a love life.

           “These days, it’s still about the money, but I am no longer thinking of affection or a love life. I think about my future. Could I leave this life? How do I leave this life? How much money would I need? Should I invest it? How? Could I work a normal job? Could I live a normal life?

           “After those questions, it always ends up in the same place. Will I find someone to love and accept me? Could I have a family? What if my kids found out I worked in a brothel?

           “You’re twenty-eight, Reyna. Do not spend much more time in this life. You can do something. I’m thirty-four, and it just doesn’t seem like it is in the cards. I could quit, sure, maybe find a guy, but the family thing…” Savannah stops and begins to weep. Overwhelmed with the same old thoughts, the same old regrets, and her eyes watering and burning from the perfect vision of hindsight.

           Reyna, trying to comfort her friend, says, “You know, I saw this thing online the other day, and it was saying that sex work is becoming more accepted. They were interviewing this girl, and she was saying…”

           Savannah interrupts, “Was she like us, or was she one of those internet cunts that thinks she’s better than us?”

           “Oh well, never mind.” Reyna sighs as she relaxes into her chair. The two begin to laugh, and Savannah dries her eyes doing her best to not ruin her mascara. Reyna looks up and sees her date for the evening entering the bar of the brothel. She gives a quick goodbye and meets him across the room.

           Savannah places another cigarette between her plump scarlet lips and lights it. She exhales a cloud into the smoky haze sitting stalely in the room. Another cigarette, another date, another dollar, just another day for Reyna and Savannah.