Glass (Crank 2)

are interested, too. Can you

and I work out a quantity?

Just like that, I move from low

to midlevel dealer. Good thing

Brad’s connect is bottomless.

Can you come out to the ranch?

I’ll tell them you’re my sister.

Oh, you have to ask for Aphrodite.

If You’ve Never

Been to a fancy whorehouse

(and believe me, I never have

before!), you might be surprised.

I’m nervous, thinking the Pink

Pussycat will be scary—dark, sweaty,

with lots of peepholes, maybe. But a

better word to describe the place

is gaudy, with plush pink carpeting

and silver and gold brocade covering

the walls. If there are peepholes, they’re

hidden behind paintings of busty

naked women, like in an Old West

saloon. Only pinker. Pink. How

appropriate. It’s early for truckers.

Only a few haunt the “parlor,” perusing

a menu of services and a couple of girls.

Neither men nor girls are what you’d call

attractive. This is no place for romance.

Hey, sis. Long time no see. Robyn escorts

me to her room, much like she did several

times in the past, only this time she’s dressed