Friday, April 21, 2006

Lot Lizards

They exist on every Carnival lot in the world I'm sure. We've all had our turns with them, well....most of us. I haven't touched one in years.

They're easy, they take no work or effort, they'll fuck anybody. "Rode hard and put away wet" is the term. They're rough looking and it's not hard to tell they've been fucked a hundred times.

When I was young I was mean to them, treating them like shit, throwing them out of my bunk into the rain when I was done. I told more than one to go crawl back in her hole.

I'm older now and see them for what they really are, just deeply wounded human beings that no one ever gave a shit about. Most of them are runaways or girls that bounced around in the fucked up system their whole lives.


Lisa was one I met a few years ago. She was working on a ride, getting paid shit, and trying to survive off shake. The guys on the ride were getting most of it though. Lisa was trying to live off four dollars a day in change.

Lisa wouldn't take charity though, she had a fierce pride about her in some ways, it was all she had I guess. She'd fucked and sucked her way across the country on the Carnival, that's how she survived, that and shake.

I'd be sitting in the cookhouse when it was raining, drinking coffee, and pondering the universe. Lisa would come in soaked, looking like a drowned rat, counting her change, rarely having enough to get what she wanted.

She knew I was an easy mark for a cigarette and would eventually make her way over to me and bum one. We'd sit there under the bare light bulbs and shoot the shit about whatever, small talk usually.

Finally one cold rainy night I said to her, "Why don't you just let me feed you?"

She started in whith her "I don't take charity" attitude. I told her to cut the shit, told her she looked like a fucking ethiopian, she relented, dropping her guard.

She was also sleeping in a possum belly at night, which sucks by the way. So after that, whenever it was wet and cold I'd let her sleep in my trailer on the top bunk.

All the guys thought I was fucking her but I wasn't. I don't know what happened to her, she just didn't come out one year and I never saw her again.

I see a lot of them on the road, they come from broken fucked up homes, and with all the screwing I did out there years ago, who knows, one of them could be my kid.

7 comments:

Beverly said...

Wow. Your writing is powerful; honest. Great stories, well-told. I found you through the Pitcherlady (Cliffhanger) blog. Sure glad I did.

Who Cares said...

Thanks. Yeah, I like Susans blog, the pictures really bring it to life.

Mark said...

I'm glad you were kind to her. The older I get the more I value kindness, I suppose because I'm old enough to have had some rough times myself and that took away most of the egotism and indifference I felt when I was younger. I know now how important some kindness can be when you are in a bad place. In some ways I think that the moments we can look back on in our lives when we were kind to someone who needed it, with no ulterior motive, were some of the best moments.

bilo hak said...

what is shake? and what is a possum belly?

great writing. i hope you publish.

Brit said...

I'm glad you grew out of your'e bad judgement towards them 'the lot lizards'... you are right. Most of them have had a fucked up life... I know because I struggle the same way they do. I worked at a carnival last year(2011) originally as an oppurtunity to have shelter for my Guy & I once he was outta prison & I back to the Coast of WA.Unfortunatley, Booze & a sea of men & I is NOT a good mix especially when I don't have my own transportation... I felt like I had to give them what they wanted so I could continue making money travling w/ the carnival.
This mind 'disease' happens a lot to women who have been raped & those who didn't have good parents or a healthy child hood... all these things were my struggle. When someone gets raped (at least at an early age & more than once) then they tend to grow up feeling like a freak & wind up feeling like they are less, like they're not a person but a service. I've been having to learn how to be ok with myself & how to respect my body & my inner feelings, my inner being.
The majority of guys I have fucked in my life were fucks I didn't want but felt obligated, like it was my duty... as if I were some sex slave. After every fuck, I would start to tear up, cry or just feel plain depressed.
It wasn't until I met the man who truly loves me that I actually got to enjoy sex for the first time & began to start feeling beautiful & worthy.
Sadly he got caught up in Hard Drugs & wasn't the same... I fought & fought for him to come back but it only would last a short while & he was back to tweakin'.
I was angry at him while working @ the carnival & decided to give up... but each time I did something with one of the carnie guys... I either felt disgust or numb. How, I wish it never happened but of course, I can't change the past & so I now am admitting I have a problem & working on it... as my man he too is working on his problem with drugs.

I'm glad that you showed her kindness & spent time w/ her platonically. :) Reading this made me tear up & I respect the honesty.
I appreciate what I have read & it makes me feel understood & less like a freak... more like someone who is human too.

Anonymous said...

Shake is the change that falls out of people pockets.

Possum belly is a compartment under the trailer ride or whatever

Anonymous said...

Shake is loose change and possum belly is the spot under a trailer where you store tools or electric wire