Last Exit to Brooklyn - Hubert Selby Jr Read Free Page A

(this including occasionally gold and silver—Stardust— on
the lids), long marcelled hair, manicured and polished fingernails,
the wearing of womens clothes complete with padded bra, high heels
and wig (one of her biggest thrills was going to BOP CITY dressed as
a tall stately blond ( she was 6'4" in heels ) in the company of
a negro (He was a big beautiful black bastard and when he floated in
all the cats in the place jumped and the squares bugged. We were at a
crazy pad before going and were blasting like crazy and were up so
high that I just didnt give a shit for anyone honey, let me tell you!
) ) ; and the occasional wearing of a menstrual napkin.
    She was in love with Vinnie and rarely came home
while he was in jail, but stayed uptown with her girl friends, high
most of the time on benzedrine and marijuana. She had come home one
morning with one of her friends after a three day tea party with her
makeup still on and her older brother slapped her across the face and
told her that if he ever came home like that again hed kill him. She
and her friend ran screaming from the house calling her brother a
dirty fairy. After that she always called to see if her brother was
in before going home.
    Her life didnt revolve, but spun centrifugally,
around stimulants, opiates, johns (who paid her to dance for them in
womens panties then ripped them off her; bisexuals who told their
wives they were going out with the boys and spent the night with
Georgette ( she trying to imagine they were Vinnie) ), the freakish
precipitate coming to the top.
    When she heard that Vinnie had been paroled she went
to Brooklyn (first buying 10 dozen benzedrine tablets) and sat in the
Greeks all night following Vinnie everywhere and trying to get him
alone. She bought him coffeeand, sat on his lap and asked him to go
for a walk. He would refuse and tell her theres plenty of time
sweetheart. Maybe later. Georgette would wiggle on his lap, play with
his earlobes feeling like a young girl on her first date. She looked
at him coquettishly. Let me do you Vinnie, forcing herself to refrain
from trying to kiss him, from embracing him, from caressing his
thighs, dreaming of the warmth of his groin, seeing him nude, holding
her head (not too gently), pressing close to him, watching his
muscles contract, running her fingertips gently along the tightened
thigh muscles (he might even groan at the climax); the feel, taste,
smell. . . . Please Vinnie, the dream almost carrying over to
consciousness, the benzedrine making it even more difficult not to
try to animate the dream now.
    It wasnt fear of being rebuked or hit by him (that
could be developed in her mind into a lovers quarrel ending in a
beautiful reconciliation) that restrained her, but she knew if done
in the presence of his friends (who tolerated more than accepted her,
or used her as a means to get high when broke or for amusement when
bored) his pride would force him to abjure her completely and then
there would not only be no hope, but, perhaps no dream. She put her
hand tentatively on the back of his neck twisting the short hairs.
She jumped up as he pushed her, and giggled as he patted her on the
buttox. She strutted over to the counter. May I please have another
cup of coffee Alex? you big Greek fairy. She put another benzedrine
tablet in her mouth and swallowed it with the coffee; put a nickel in
the jukebox and started wiggling as a tenor sax wailed a blues
number. Some of the others in the Greeks clapped in time to the music
and yelled, Go Georgette, Go! She put her hands behind her head,
ellipsed her pelvis slowly and—bumped— up to one of the girls who
was laughing at her and threw her hip in her face. Heres one for you,
you big bitch. When the music stopped she sat on a stool at the
counter, finished her coffee, spun around a few times on the stool,
stopped, stood up holding her hands delicately in front of her in the
dramatic manner of a concert singer and sang un bel di in a