Creepy Crawly ~ Suzy Devere

May 12, 2008

It was like Tourette’s in reverse:  “Baby, you’re everything.  Gorgeous and smart, sexy…I bet you even cook.  I love you.”  It was horrifying.

“What am I gunna do with that?” I said, my face pinched with disgust.  “Just grab your shit and go.  I thought we had an agreement.  I should have known you couldn’t keep it together.”

He’d always been a liability, a clinger.  There’s one in every bunch.  Years ago Lucy and I’d been booked for this bachelor party, Park Avenue.  He’d been there, the clinger.  A bunch of fat ass perv. bankers with big guts and fat wallets.   I knew Park Avenue from the inside out but men, except for my dad, were new to me. And Chapin was an all-girl’s school, so that didn’t help.  But the street sense I was missing Lucy had in spades.  One look in her eyes sitting in a booth at a downtown club and I knew all those years of bullshit French, Violin, Soccer and Riding my parents had pushed me into were worthless.  She was thrilling but as I found out later, cheap girls always make you break your own rules and fuck-up your life…but anyway, back to the story (although maybe that is the story?).

Bachelor party, Fatty Clinger.  He’d followed us around all night.  He wasn’t our main concern, and girls don’t work parties to please random guests, but $50 here and there a few times an hour kept him a little closer than the rest.  By the end of the night, Fatty swore he was in love.  He begged us to let his driver take us home.  I wanted to go it alone but knew we’d be saving ourselves time and money by going with Creepy Crawly.  It was a risk I wasn’t happy taking.  We excused ourselves to the ladies room.   Bigger than our apartment, we spread our bags out and tried to come to a decision. We both were drunk and not that quick to start with; two drugged birds in a mirrored cage, fisticuffs.

“He’ll know where we live!” I said emphatically, like the world depended on it.  “And he’s gross.  Did you see the way he ate that cheese?  Licking his FAT FUCKING FINGERS and touching everything! Touching YOU!  Where do these people come from? And he thinks $50 bucks…”

Lucy cut me off.  “What the fuck’s wrong with you?  You just don’t want me to get a regular john out of it.  He likes me and he’s loaded. Don’t you get it, Stupid?” at this she pulled a wad of money out of her red bra and held it in front of my face like a Baptist preacher, pushing the Bible.  “Put your head on!” she slurred, her Lower East Side Latino coming through loud and clear.  “Jesus Christ” she went on “Why do I take you?”

“Because I’m smart,” I said.

“No, Stupid.  Because you’re pretty.” She leaned in and grabbed my crotch hard, nearly ripping my panties and shoving her fingers inside me.  Then she pulled me close and kissed me.  We made out for a while, like we were back at our place already, then remembered Fatty John.

“Let’s get outta here.  I’m so tired,” I said, and I was.  I really, really was. Working since the night before, there hadn’t even been a place to shower between gigs.  And now this bullshit hooker party…

I grabbed her by the hand and out we went.  He was waiting just outside the bathroom door.  He looked even fatter and more disgusting.  Sure, sure, he was the same but in that kind of jarring scene, everyone always looks worse.  That was one of the hazards of the ‘bathroom break’ in the business.  Coming out always meant something worse than going in.  A girl could never get used to it, or at least I couldn’t. The men were always nastier and more demanding, the girls always more insipid and pathetic, and a rabid-kinda-mean working its way in equal parts over both.

Finally out in the hall after saying our goodbyes to the belligerent men, Creepy told Lucy to get in the elevator.  He promised her we’d meet her down in the lobby in a minute.  I shook my head “No” but she smiled and did as he said.  Stuck in a nightmare, I couldn’t run, couldn’t speak, and suddenly wished I hadn’t popped those Valium and had all those drinks.  My heart was beating out of my chest and my neck was starting to sweat.  When he was sure the elevator had gone and we were alone, he got up close.  His breath reeked of cigars and Lucy’s cunt.  “Baby, you’re everything.  Gorgeous and smart, sexy…I bet you even cook.  I love you,” he said.

I never did wake up.  That’s Mrs. Fatty to you…


Suzy Devere is a prostitute, a drug addict, a Dr.’s wife, a mother, an intellectual, an academic, an athlete, a painter, a drawer, a photographer, a performance artist, and writer.  She’s lived all over the world, but right now lives next door to you.



4 Responses to “Creepy Crawly ~ Suzy Devere”

  1. Visual, horrifying, and a sense of being trapped — best way to describe this. For something so creepy, which is a great title for that particular moment, it’s an amazing piece of work.

    The description of the cheese and that man’s fingers is just… ewww… but a perfect character description of this pig.

  2. Miss Suzy Devere, now I don’t want to contradict you, but you do not live next door to me, because next door to me lives a taxidermist.

  3. 5chidlers said

    the best fatty clinger story to date…
    odiferous fatty clinger to you!

  4. Lisa K said

    And I thought I knew all of my neighbors. Keep writing Ms. Devere…you rock!

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