The Pussy Discount
I have heard many people express the opinion that prison sentences are not punitive enough, that prisoners are coddled, that they have an easy time inside, enjoying their three hots and a cot. What they don't understand is that the real punishment of imprisonment takes place inside each prisoner's head.
I spend many sleepless hours lying In my bunk pondering one question more than any other. Why did I go back to Nicky?
When self pity dominated my mood, I would tell myself that I had to return to him, because I loved him. When I felt angry, I convinced myself that he had manipulated me. When I became cynical, I put it all down to the fact that I had run out of cocaine. Eventually, I came to the conclusion that the reason I went back wasn't important. I went back and I have to own my share of the responsibly for what followed.
Nicky started texting me again on the third day after I left. I ignored him, and he started leaving messages on my phone. I texted him back and told him that I needed more time to think about things. That kept him at bay for a few more days, until he came up with a new tactic. We needed to get together and talk, he said, because we had "business matters" to discuss. When I heard that message I realized that, in fact, he was sitting on a pretty nice pile of cash, half of which was rightfully mine. I texted him and told him I would meet him the next day at a nearby diner.
I arrived first and ordered a cup of coffee. I had only take a few sips when Nicky walked in. He was still beautiful in his ragged jeans and his leather jacket. He smiled at me, and it was the same smile that had always touched my heart, but in his eyes, there was a sadness that I hadn't seen before.
He sat across from me. The waitress came over and he asked her for a soda and a plate of French fries. I sat silently and waited for him to speak. He gazed at me for a few moments, then, looking up at the ceiling, said "God, Mel, I miss you so much."
I tried to be hard. "I thought we were here to talk about business, Nicky. "
"Well, it's all one thing, babe. The business is us, right? You and me together. "
"Nicky, if we are going to be together, I've got to feel like we have a future together. I can't be one of those let's live for today people any more."
"I know, baby. That's why I'm working on getting us clear, so we have a nice nest egg. Maybe get a real house, you know, have a regular life together. Maybe..." His voice trailed off.
"Maybe what?"
"Maybe get in a program or something?"
He really surprised me with that. "Maybe that's a good idea, Nicky. Maybe you could start taking some roofing jobs again. I could go back to the Cheetah and see if I could dance again."
He grinned. "Man, I'd love to come watch you dance. Hey, if I pay for a private dance, will I get any extra services or anything?"
He could still make me laugh. The waitress brought the French fries and we sat in silence for a few minutes while we ate them.
"So how are we going to get this nest egg?" I asked when we had finished eating.
"Let's talk about that later, Mel." He reached across the table and took my hand. "Please, baby, just tell me that you'll come back to me."
I fought to keep the tears from my eyes, and after a moment's hesitation, I nodded. He raised my hand from the table and kissed it.
"I love you, Melissa, I'll love you until the day I die."
I believed him, and despite everything, I still do.
I went back to my mother's house and gathered a few things. She was at work, so I left her a note. I was relieved not to have to tell her to her face that I had made up with Nicky. I knew she was glad I had left him, although she had never said so.
The first thing I did when I got to the cabin was clean it up. The sink was overflowing with dishes and Nicky's dirty laundry was scattered everywhere. He hovered over me while I cleaned, hoping to steal a kiss or some greater intimacy, but I was deliberately holding him off. It was a small, but satisfying, means of punishing him.
There wasn't much food left in the cabin, but when I'd finished cleaning, I made us a supper of hot dogs and canned corn. After we ate, we went to bed and we fucked, but it just wasn't like it had been before. It seemed obligatory. Nicky seemed to feel that too, and decided that he could bring back the old excitement by fucking me in the ass. When I refused, he grew sulky, and our reunion night ended with us sleeping with our backs turned to each other on our opposite edges of the bed.
We were preparing for our delivery run the next day when I asked Nicky again about his plans to make a big score. He reached behind the couch and pulled out the duffel bag we carried the oxy in. He put it on the kitchen table and opened it. It contained twice as many bottles as we usually sold.
"Who is buying all that?" I asked him.
He shrugged. "Whoever."
"What do you mean, whoever?"
"We have been lazy, we fuck around too much. We just have to get our shit together and hustle, and we can sell a lot more."
"Nicky, that's not a plan. How did you afford all that anyway?"
"Baby, we had a little over ten grand saved up."
"You bought ten thousand dollars worth of oxy from Nate?"
"Yeah, and when we sell it we'll have, like twenty grand. Think about it. We do that for just five weeks and we would have a hundred grand. Then we say fuck it and head to California or someplace."
"Honey, your math sucks."
"Well, whatever. But we sell more, we make more, right?"
"If we can sell more."