Senior Year: Four Years Later...

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2005-09-23

“Hi, I’m Stephanie. ”

That was how it started, basically, the day of her job interview. She looked a little nervous, which wasn’t too surprising, so I smiled, hoping that I looked both professional and comforting at the same time, and offered my hand.

“Hi Stephanie, I’m Devin, the store manager. ”

Her hand was soft and warm and slightly moist, but she smiled up at me and gave me a good, firm shake back.

“Nice to meet you. ”

I nodded my head towards the office, tucked away at the back of the video store, and said, “Why don’t we go have a seat?”

“Okay. ”

“Hey, Lindsay!” I gave the girl at the counter, my assistant manager, a yell. “Buzz me if you need me. We’ll be about a half-hour. ”

“Sure, boss. ”

“After you…”I unlocked the office door and held it open, letting Stephanie go in before me. I gave her a quick appraisal, looking her up and down as she walked by me.

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I thought she was kind of cute: short and plump, but in a nice, buxom way. She was dressed casually for the interview, wearing a pale blue fitted blouse that was slightly unbuttoned over a white, silky camisole, light khaki pants that were tight around her hips and a pair of old leather sandals. Her hair was dark brown, thick and glossy and cut short so that the tips curled around and under her ears. She had a sweet, heart-shaped face with prominent, rosy cheeks and a pointed chin, and she wore a little too much makeup for my taste. She had a tendency to peek up with her doe-like eyes when she smiled, making her look a bit like a chubby, mischievous pixie, but the silver crucifix dangling in the deep cleft between her breasts distracted me from that little blemish.

“Welcome to my closet. ” I cleared my throat, pried my eyes away from her chest and pointed to a chair. “Have a seat. ”

She sat down and crossed her legs, immediately comfortable.

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   Maybe she wasn’t as nervous as I’d assumed. Either that, or my considerable boyish charm and good looks had really worked to loosen her up.

“Thanks,” she said.

Her pant legs slid up when she sat, giving me a tantalizing glimpse of her thick, tan, muscular calves. I settled down into my comfy leather chair just opposite her and pretended to search my desk for a pen. I gave her another smile.

“You’re welcome. ”

She made a quiet humming sound in her throat and absent-mindedly tugged her blouse down, smoothing it tight over her breasts. She glanced around the room, taking in the big cork bulletin board tacked full of comic strips, work schedules, inventory lists and what-not; piles of old sale invoices, movie magazines and late-lists spilling out of boxes on the floor around my cluttered desk. “You know, a closet might be bigger. ”

I actually laughed, and casually flipped through her job application. “Yeah, you might be right. ”

My office was tiny, with barely enough room for a desk set up along the back wall, a beat-up metal filing cabinet, and the two chairs we were sitting in. Another door opened into a small storage area with walls of shelves full of movie posters and display boxes. Beyond that was a dimly-lit back room where we kept the safe.

The store itself was shaped like a sideways L, with a large, open floor plan that the owners believed encouraged customer browsing.

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   It was brightly lit with red neon signs, flashing lights and lots of televisions set up like tic-tac-toe boards – always turned on and blaring taped ads for the latest movies and games. In the back of the building there was another storage room, an employee break area and a small warehouse with a dingy bathroom for the staff (and the occasional customer emergency) that was always kept locked.

The adult movies – the porno’s – had a room all their own, with a closed-circuit video surveillance system to monitor the freaks. Lord knows how many idiots we’ve caught on tape jacking off in there.

“So, you want to work for a video store?” I asked.

“M-hm,” she nodded. “Trisha really likes it here. She said you needed someone to take her spot when she leaves. ”

Trisha was one of my better employees. She’d worked for me for a little over a year and was leaving for college soon. She’d recommended Stephanie to me. I knew they were friends from high school and swam together on the school swim team.

“I do. I remember when you dropped off your application,” I lied.

The only reason I knew I took her application is that Trisha asked me to. Without Trisha putting in a good word, Stephanie probably would’ve completely faded from my mind.

She beamed. “Really?”

“Yeah. You bet. ”

Stephanie’s application indicated that she was a certified lifeguard and had worked the last couple years as a counselor and lifeguard at a Catholic summer camp. She also worked the counter at the camp store, selling the kids cold drinks, popcorn and candy, t-shirts and sweatshirts, that kind of thing. Not all that much different than what she’d be doing for me.

“So tell me about camp. ”

She took a deep breath. “Well…”

I watched her while she talked, nodding, scribbling notes on her app, asking a quick question here and there. Normally – sexist as it sounds, I’d try to hire someone a little sexier than Stephanie, because the beautiful people tend to bring in the money. But basically, right now I just needed a warm body and wasn’t feeling too picky. If she could at least make change and carry on a half-way decent conversation, I was probably going to offer her a job.

For the fifty-six minutes we were in the office together, Stephanie showed me everything that a potential employer wants to see from a prospective employee.

I started working here in high-school, took over as assistant manager pretty quickly, and got promoted to running the store full-time after I started film school. It’s a relatively simple job and I make decent money doing basically nothing. I’m about ready to graduate now, and over the last few years I’ve had a lot of employees come through here.

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   I’ve learned that most interviews are awful, some – a few – are better.

Most of my applicants are high school kids looking for an easy summer job or college kids needing some quick part time work. Rarely, someone I interview is really motivated to get a job. Frankly, Stephanie impressed me, and I warmed up to her pretty quickly. She was animated and lively, sharp and funny. She had a habit of blinking once or twice after each question, thinking before she answered.

I liked that.

She liked all kinds of movies and was already familiar with the store, which was great, telling me that Trisha made her help her close up the shop every weekend so she could get out and party earlier.

“Ah. ” I said, and made a note of that to put in Trisha’s file. For safety, one of the cardinal rules was that only employees may be in the store before or after store hours. I don’t think Stephanie caught the slip.

Best of all, she was flexible. She still lived at home with her family and was starting school in the fall, part-time at a local community college, so her schedule was open, at least for now. As we wrapped the interview up, I made sure it was okay to call her references and her supervisor from camp, and asked her what size uniform shirt I should order, and what color would she prefer?

“Um, red, for sure. Small?”

“Great.

 

   I’ve only got a few other people to talk to this afternoon. Hopefully I can call everyone back by tomorrow. ”

“Okay. Thanks for the interview!”

She shook my hand again, and I grinned as she walked back through the store, absently wondering what she’d look like in a bathing suit. I heard her say goodbye to Lindsay, who was busy returning video games, and then the door chimed and she was gone. Lindsay grinned from across the room and gave me a big thumbs up.

“She’s a keeper, huh?” She shouted.

I shrugged.

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“We’ll see. ”

“You snooze, you lose, boss-man. Hire her yesterday. ”

I laughed and started back to the office. “Opinion noted. Okay?”

One of our regulars, an fifty-ish lady named Nancy, was herding her grandkids through the game section with a look of utter frustration plastered on her face. She was trying to get them to make a decision between renting some shoot-‘em-up and a racing game, and she was failing miserably.

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Nancy was probably one of the first customers I’d made an effort to connect with when I became manager, although I’m not quite sure why.

Truthfully, I think I was a little smitten with her. She was married to an ex-cop who’d started flipping property after he retired, and now he was always gone, being (in her words) the real estate tycoon. Nancy used to be a nurse. She retired a few years ago to help her daughter take care of her grandkids (the little devils that were now screaming at each other and yanking all our game boxes off the rack. Lindsay looked at me and rolled her eyes. She hated those kids…).

Nancy kind of moped around with this sad-sack complex, that for some strange reason I found extremely sexy. So I made it a point to flirt with her whenever I could.

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   It seemed to make her happy, at least for a minute or two, and once I got her talking, she was actually pretty interesting.

Besides, she had a pair of whopping big tits. I couldn’t resist.

I ignored the screaming demons making a mess out of my store and put on my best smile for her. “Hi, Nance. ”

She looked up and brightened immediately. Sometimes I wonder if she comes in now just to see me. She waved back, and then her grandkids started a nice, loud shoving match. Nancy rolled her eyes at me and I took the opportunity to slip back into my office.

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Maybe I made her day a little brighter. Sometimes we all just need someone to say hi, let us know we mean something, even if it’s just a grin from some kid at the video store.

Anyway…

I shut the door and plopped back into my chair with a sigh. It was a little quieter in here with the door closed. I hoped Lindsay had a bottle of aspirin at the counter, and then waited for the other applicants to show up. Lindsay escorted the next one back a minute or two after I heard the demons leave.

By the time I kicked the last one out the door – a pale, zit-faced teenager who ignored most of my questions and couldn’t stop talking about his collection of obscure Japanese animation videos that he was busy burning to disc – one copy to watch, one to save, in case of fire or flood or some other cosmically ordained cataclysm – I was grumpy, tired and ready to grab some dinner and call it a night.

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Lindsay gave me irritated looks from the counter as I walked them out. She stuck out her tongue and shook her head after each one left.

“Stephanie,” she said. “This is so you don’t forget. ” She’d written the name on a sticky note paper, and stuck it to my forehead. “Hire. Her. Now. ”

One of our phone lines started ringing.

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“Cut it out and answer the phone,” I grumbled.

It was supposed to sound threatening, but Lindsay just grinned and blew me a kiss. I stalked back into my office and peeled the note off my face, and then I just sat there for a bit, staring at my pile of applications and playing with the sticky paper with my fingertips.

Stephanie’s app was right there, at the top of the pile.

I cleaned up the junk on my desk and then called the main office, which had already closed for the day. I left a voice message for the office manager and ordered two small red polo shirts and a nametag for Stephanie.

Then it was time to go.

***

As I left work, I checked my voicemail on my cell phone on the way to my car, a red ’73 VW Superbeetle. A friend of mine named Desiree had left me a message, asking me to stop by when I got off work.

I’d met Desiree under somewhat, uh, kinky circumstances during my senior year of high-school, at a Halloween party thrown by one of my teachers, a transgender named Linda, who I had a brief affair with. Linda moved away to France later that summer, but for some strange reason Desiree and I became, um, well, friendly.

You can read into that whatever you’d like.

Anyway, I rolled back the sunroof and then drove over to her house. Desiree lived in one of the nicer areas of town, in an old Victorian-style house that she was busy fixing up herself. I think the house must’ve set her back more than I’d make in ten years at the video store. It had been confiscated in a drug bust, and when she bought it the whole thing looked ready to fall apart.

It looked pretty good now, I thought. Nicest house on the block.

I parked at the curb and locked the car, then trudged up a steep flight of steps to the front door and rang the bell. I heard a deep bong emanate from somewhere inside, and Desiree opened the door before I could put my arm down, shrieking my name in her husky voice.

“Devin!”

She pinched my cheeks and crushed me to her chest, smothering me with her breasts.

“Baby! Come to momma and give me a kiss, baby. Mm…now, watch the lipstick. I just put it on. ”

She wiped a smear of bright red lipstick from my cheek with a fingertip. She held me at arms length and gave me a good once-over, batting her eyes and looking me up and down.

“Mm…Baby, you look good enough to eat. Come on in, honey, make yourself comfy.

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   There’s someone here I want you to meet. ”

Desiree’s as beautiful as a large, black transsexual could be, and she’s about as flamboyant as they come. When I first met her at the Halloween party, she was decked out like a flapper from the roaring twenties. I’m a pretty big guy, but she’s taller than I am, around six-six, and she’s got a figure most female porn stars would die for.

She looked great today, with her long, kinky curly hair pulled back in a tight braid, and she was dressed conservatively in a black pinstriped pantsuit and a crème silk blouse buttoned up just to her breasts. She was wearing high-heeled pumps and was even taller than usual. She towered over me.

Desiree and my teacher, Linda, had met working as call girls back in college and hit it off. Desiree was still in the industry.

 

   Currently, she owned a sex club called Kings and Queens, and judging by her home, she seemed to be doing pretty well for herself.

“Hey, Swan!” She called out, pulling me down with her onto an over-stuffed, antique velvet sofa. “Company! Devin’s here!”

“Coming!”

She rested a big hand on my thigh and snuggled close enough for me to smell her perfume. A door that led into her kitchen swung open and shut, and Desiree smiled at me again as a tall, reed-thin guy dressed in sweats with a huge, nappy afro walked through the dining room, munching on a bunch of grapes.

Desiree gave my thigh a little squeeze, sending a warm, tingly jolt up to my crotch, and introduced us.

“Dev, this is my nephew, Swan. ”

Swan chewed his mouthful of grapes and acknowledged me with a sleepy nod. He sat and slouched down into the chair next to us, threw his leg over one of the chair arms.

“S’up. ”

“Hey,” I said, and nodded back, cool as he was. Two could play it like that.

“Swan just graduated from NYU.

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   Didn’t you, sweetie?”

“Yup. ”

I blinked. “Film school?”

“Yup. ”

This time, I nodded appreciatively. “Wow. ”

“He’s going to be staying here for a couple months. ” Desiree smiled. “I thought you two might like to get to know each other, since you’re both up and coming directors and what-not. ”

“Auntie says you into Zombie flicks, man. ”

I laughed. “Yeah. I am. ”

“Cool. ” He grinned, showing a ton of white teeth, and nodded again.

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   “Who and what. ”

It probably sounds crazy, but I knew what he was talking about. Desiree looked mystified.

“Romero. Night of the Living Dead. ”

“What the hell are you two talking about?”

I grinned at Desiree. Swan and I both said, “Best movie ever.

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5in;" class="MsoNormal">He ate another mouthful of grapes. She shook her head.

“All right. Looks like you two already have a lot in common. ” She patted my leg, gave me a kiss and stood up. “I’ve got to head to the club. I’ll see y’all later. ”

Desiree bent and kissed Swan.

“Bye, Auntie. ”

Desiree grabbed a small clutch and blew us both kisses, then she was gone.

“So. How you know my Auntie?”

I wasn’t quite sure how to answer that.

“We, uh…”

“You sleepin’ with her?”

Hell.

“We…”

“You know that she a he, right?”

“Yeah…”

“You cool with that?”

“Sure. ”

He nodded. “Man, the rest o’ my fam’ly don’t even know. It’s the big secret, right?”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. ” He scratched his nose. I could just feel the question coming. “So, straight up, man. You two gettin’ nasty?”

I licked my lips.

“We’ve slept together, yeah. But. . . ”

“Damn, man. ”

“But…” I interrupted him and kept on going. “…we’ve never had sex. With each other, I mean. There was someone else who…”

“Ah, yeah. I bet I know. Linda?”

Surprise. A little lightbulb popped in my head.

“You know Linda?”

He nodded. “Met her a couple times, when I was a kid. During holidays and shit, when I’d come out to visit Auntie. Always figured they were into some kinky shit. ”

“You don’t even know. ”

“Prob’ley right about that. Don’t know that I want to, either. ” He waved his hand. “So, what is it you do?”

I told him, about work and school.

“I’m just finishing my last short film. Then…I don’t really know what I’m gonna do. I thought about moving to L.

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  A. , but…” I shrugged.

“Yeah. Me too. Go be where the action is, an’ all. ”

“Yeah. ”

He finished his grapes, chewing thoughtfully.

“Thing is, you can make movies wherever these days. Just need the equipment an’ some folks to do the grunt stuff. ”

“Sure. ”

“I got my own cameras. ” He pointed upstairs. “Brought ‘em with me. Some nice digital. Looks as good as film up on screen. ”

“I’ve been using a digital camera too.

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“Cool. ” He sat up. “When Auntie told me ‘bout y’all, I got this idea. I talked it over with Auntie. She thought I might be onto something, wondered if you’d be into it too. ”

“Oh yeah?” I leaned closer, interested. “What’s that?”

“Makin’ our own movies, man. ’Could mean some good money, if we’re lucky. ”

I blinked. “Movies?”

“Yeah. You an’ me. We start our own production company, make our own shit. ”

“You’re serious about this?”

“Hell yeah. ”

I leaned back into the couch.

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   “I don’t know. I mean…”

Swan had been relaxed for our entire conversation, thumping his leg on the side of the chair. But now he spun around so he was facing me.

“Look, bro. Here’s the thing. Auntie said she’d help with our cash flow. She’s loaded, man. I don’t wanna make some crappy indie shit that nobody but some tattooed patchouli smellin’ motherfuckers are gonna see at some outta the way art house theater. We need to get profitable, quick, or we dead in the water. ”

That was the truth.

“So?”

“Auntie tells me you’re into some kinky shit. ” He raised his eyebrows. “Me too, man. See, I don’t care if you’re fuckin’ her. It’s all cool. I think that’s why she introduced us. ”

I didn’t see where this was going, and said so.

“I’m talkin’ about making porno’s. ”

I blinked again. He grinned, showing me all those teeth.

“Y’know, dudes and chicks, chicks and chicks. Chicks with dicks. Hell, chicks with fuckin’ goats! Whatever we can get away with. ”

“You’re serious?”

“How ‘bout we go get some grub, an’ I’ll let you in on what I come up with so far. ”

I thought about it. “There’s a club not to far from here with a bar. ”

“Food okay?”

“They make a sloppy gyros. ”

“Damn. Okay. ”

We both stood up. I shoved my hands in my pockets. “Porn, huh?”

“Yup. ” Swan nodded. His afro bobbed back and forth. “An’ the crazier shit, the better. ”

He stuck out his hand, and after a second, we shook.

“All right.

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   Sounds cool to me. ”

He grinned.

“Right on. Damn, partner. I’m starved. Let’s eat. ”

***

I drove. Swan had to rack the seat back as far as it would go and bend himself almost in half, but he managed to squeeze inside the beetle. It was still pretty early, so the club was quiet when we got there. I didn’t see anybody I knew yet either, but the souvlaki joint was packed.

 

   We could hear the buzz of conversation from the curb.

Inside, I nodded to the Asian guy working the counter, Chucky. He slapped my hand, and Swan and I each ordered a large lamb souvlaki with veggies and extra feta. We got a couple drinks and found two empty stools at the skinny bar along the back wall.

Between bites of hot, meaty, drippy goodness, we slurped on cold beer and got to know each other, almost shouting to be heard over the music from the blues CD blaring out of the beatbox on the counter.

“I was born and raised in Chicago,” Swan said, licking at a blob of greasy sauce running down his wrist. “My pop left and moved to Brooklyn when I was little, so I spent summers with him, hangin’ out in the city. Auntie’s my mom’s…uh…” He tried to come up with the right word, then just grinned and shrugged. “Well. You know. Her brother. His real name is Shakim.

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“Shakim?” I blinked.

Swan laughed and nodded. “Yup. I think my Gramma wanted him to go into politics, get radical, join the Panthers or somethin’, you know? Mom says she always knew he was gay, even when he was a kid. But nobody but me knows what he’s up to nowadays, what with the titties an’ all. ”

“So you’d come here and visit?”

“Mm. Yep.

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   On vacations and whatnot. ” He tipped back his beer and washed another bite down. “Mom was okay with that. She and Auntie were close as kids, so she trusts him. My Pop thinks he’s fucked up, but I could give a shit about his opinion. The motherfucker’s been a junkie since he was a kid. I figure, what the hell kind of truth can he show me?”

I noticed that Swan was slowly losing the hip-hop attitude, the longer we talked. Maybe he was getting more comfortable around me. I finished my sandwich, wiped my hands and shrugged.

“I don’t know. My dad’s drinking himself into the ground.

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