Dean ended up leaving the john’s house with a case of beer, a carton of cigarettes, a fifth of jack, a hundred and fifty filthy dollars and genital warts soon to sprout on his rectum. He didn’t have much of a choice. He got a ten-dollar-a-night one-room hotel, and went out to get some McDonalds. He got three double cheeseburgers for a dollar each and made his way back, turned on the tv and ate them, with beer. He stayed up for awhile watching talk shows and court tv, then fell asleep half-drunk for about twelve hours. He applied for a job at a gas station, and was hired. He started the next day. It went fine, lotto tickets, beer, cigarettes, coffee and hot dogs eight hours a day five days a week. He was able to afford his room, and a twelve pack of beer each night. He started reading true crime novels, and doing extra odd jobs around his neighborhood; paint, raking leaves, something. On his day off one night he had the late shift and a guy came in holding a baseball bat with pantyhose on his head. He beat Dean until he was out cold and had a concussion, vandalized the store, and took all the money, beer, wine, and cigarettes he could hold. Dean woke up in the hospital. He worked a few more days at the gas station until he got a full week’s pay. Then he went out panhandling in front of a huge building downtown. It went fine for a while until he got maced and fell over a bridge into a river. When he hit the ice-cold water he passed out but the current carried him downstream where he washed up on a mud bank. Luckily he had an unopened pack of cigarettes in his pocket when he struggled free of the shock and ambled through the woods to the highway where he made his way into town. He didn’t want to get another job, so he just walked the streets. He had a full paycheck and twenty bucks made panhandling, so he would walk the streets, sipping beers, smoking cigarettes, eating sandwiches, sleeping under bridges. Soon, someone invited him in to a party, one night. He could hear basketball games on radios as he walked down the street, and was offered a beer by a man standing on a porch smoking a cigar. The scent of pot wafted out of the house in waves. In the house were five men.
Carl, pot bellied and missing an ear. Steve, covered in cigarette burns and wearing dentures, a veteran. Arnold, mentally ill kid whose eyes were too close together. Irvine, a cross dresser with a beard. And finally Terry, who was in a wheel chair and was fixated on a rerun of Family Ties in the corner of the room. He sipped at a 25-ounce can of Labbatt’s Blue and hit a bright purple hashpipe. Carl’s daughter walked around in her bra and panties. it was encouraged. Everyone in the room except Terry had had a piece of her. Her father Carl was her pimp and would sell her to complete strangers for 50 bucks a fuck. She was 14 and her name was Joanne.
"Hey you,”
Joanne said and pressed her soft warm body against Dean. Dean got an instant boner. The girl was hot, like a porn star. She had a definite future. They all gathered around the television and lit up a huge fat blunt. They turned on the Tonight Show and passed it around. Dean took hits until it was gone. When it was down to a nug they put it into Terry’s pipe and smoked it.
They were all stoned. They sat around chuckling and flipping back and forth between SportsCenter and the Tonight Show.
"OK, time for some fun.”
They all filed single file into the room and tossed money on the table. Carl turned on some music, classical rock. Joanne came into the room and began dancing, doing a strip tease. The men sprayed beer over her body as she stripped. When she was finished, she arched her back and bent over the couch, spreading her legs. "OK guys, whatever hole you want, one after another.” That began a wild fuckfest, as man after man mounted and fucked and came on the fourteen-year-old then lined up to do it again. This lasted for hours, until Joanne said she was sore and walked into the kitchen to drink beer and listen to classical music on the radio.
