Verdulia's coy smile, burlesque potty mouth and witty attempts to divorce customers from their loose change have earned her a place in local hearts. But her grasp on complex global financial systems has made her an unlikely asset to economists at San Narciso College. Prior to landing in the county's dedicated transient community, Hobo Gardens, Verdulia spent many years abroad supervising brothels in France, Albania and the Czech Republic. Her involvement in the economies of those countries accorded her uncanny insight to the bureaucratic mechanisms that drive the European monetary system. An account of her conversation follows.
So, I was working North Viaduct again, 'cause 5-0 don't want me drumming up business in town. I find this John who's ready to roll, so we head to the Stuffit Inn. But this guy's crazy, Verna. Got rich off Amway, he tells me. That takes a psychopath. Anyway, he yanks a hundred from his wallet and tells Sandy, that skank redhead at the desk, he wants to see the room first. It's the freaking Stuffit Inn. Don't need nothing but a towel and a cup. Whatever, he gets a key and goes upstairs. I gots to wait now.
Then, right in front of me, that strawberry pop-tart takes the money and gives it to the idiot bellboy with the mullet. Guess what, that's her boyfriend. Big surprise. Scrawny little tweaker puke. She keeps calling him Killshot. His real name's Vernon Rutherford. Turns out, Killshot owes his dealer money for the weed they got day before. Another big surprise. So he pages his dealer and says he got the dough. And I think, he got what? Ain't his money. That's my money.
Pusher shows up and takes the bill and goes into the bar. Now this dude's paying off his tab with my customer's wad. What the hell, Verna? I'm sitting there getting it up the backside and I ain't even taken down my drawers yet.
But then Delmont comes stomping out from the bar. I didn't know he was working. He's that fat redneck piece of trash that's always trying to get in Sandy's pants. Seems like he did, 'cause he slides her the hundred and says, "I'll give twice that tomorrow if you let the lights alone." Sandy tells him ain't gonna happen and starts to take her purse out. But my trick's heading down the stairs, so Sandy slaps the money back on the counter, trying to play all innocent. Trick drops the key, grabs the money and says the room ain't clean enough for him. Then he shoots me this crappy look and goes, "Neither are you, for that matter." And he's out.
So I wasted all that time and didn't pocket no money. But nobody else did neither. That hundred floated all over God's creation, but not one person got any of it. It's sick, right? Stupidest thing is that all these losers are now outta debt and walking around fat, dumb and happy. Same s**t those banks are doing in Europe, Verna. Bunch of stinky, funny-talking, thieving sombitches.
Girl can't never earn a living, but she always gonna get screwed. Got a cigarette, honey?
(c) 2011. See disclaimers.