Free Fat Assassins by Marita Fowler Page B

awesome until you played up the prude thing too much. Tone it down and start giving him what he paid for . . . .”
    He stood there while she un-muted the phone. 
    “Dirk, um . . . I’m sorry . . . this is my first time and I’m really nervous,” she apologized.
    Terry gave her a thumbs up.
    “You like virgins?! You’ll be gentle?! What the hell, you pervert!” When she realized what was going on, she swiveled her chair towards us, let out a squeak and hit the disconnect button. 
    “You just hung up on a customer!” he said, looking for an explanation.
    “What kind of service are we marketing here?”
    He stared at her with shrewd eyes. “It’s a phone sex hotline.”
    “What?”
    “A phone sex hotline. Men call in and you talk dirty to them. What kinda telemarketer job do you think pays $15 an hour? Home Shopping Network?”
    All of a sudden things fell into place and the conversation strains took on a darker meaning.
    “Mmmm. That’s right, that’s how I like it.....”
    “On your knees now, you’ve been a bad, bad boy...”
    “You know I’m not that kinda girl. I want to save it until we’re married.....”
    I’d heard enough. “Thanks for giving us this opportunity, but I don’t think it’s quite what we had in mind. Have a nice day!”
     
    Ulyssa was still in shock from popping her phone cherry, so I jerked her out of the chair and pushed her toward the exit. We navigated our way between the cubicles, past the plastic receptionist and out to the parking lot. We ran to the car like the devil was chasing us and locked the doors. We didn’t relax until we pulled into the parking lot of our next interview. Ulyssa dug hand sanitizer out of her purse and we rubbed it all over our hands and faces trying to erase the sleazy feelings from Dynamic.
    “I’m so glad he didn’t order the wildlife package! I don’t know if I could have psychologically recovered from that one,” Ulyssa said, making us laugh until hysterical tears poured from our eyes. 
     
    We were early for the pharmaceutical sales interview at Au Naturales, so we had time to regain our composure and reapply our makeup. We walked around to the front entrance and stood in front of a new age Wican store. There wasn’t a sign for the Au Naturales company, so we pressed the button labeled 202 since it matched the address. 
    “What?!” a female voice demanded.
    “We have a two o’clock interview at Au Na . . . .” I said, as the door buzzed open, interrupting me. We climbed the rickety stairs and knocked on the door with the apartment number hanging upside down. Maybe this is a startup company that doesn’t have the money to build a storefront yet. 
    A turbaned woman slung the door open saying, “C’mon on in. I’m just finishing up with a customer”.
    Wary from our last shady interview, we stayed close to the door, ready to run at any sign of weirdness.
    “Thanks Christal! You’ve always got the best weed!” That voice sounded vaguely familiar. I felt Ulyssa tense at the mysterious man’s next words, “But those roofies you sold me didn’t work. She didn’t loosen up one bit at the party. I don’t know what else to do. She’s a-driving me crazy.”
    Johnny!
    Ulyssa flew across the room and kicked the kitchen door open. 
    “I’m a-gonna cut your balls off!” 
    I chased her into the kitchen and stopped short. She was wielding a butcher knife Steven Seagal style with her her wrist turned under holding the dull part of the knife against her arm. She swung her arm in front of her chest slicing air, making Johnny jump up from his chair. His left arm was in a sling making it awkward for him to escape Ulyssa as he scrambled around the retro kitchen. Christal sat calmly on the red, plastic and chrome chair watching Johnny scurry around her kitchen. She exhaled a mouthful of cigarette smoke, “I reckon this is the one you wuz just telling me about?” 
    Her words rattled Johnny and he tripped on the curling linoleum