She plied me with snake bites, made from real snakes. I had a poisonous head in the morning. I never went to bed with an ugly woman, but I woke up with a few. Not that she was bad to look at; she just had an unattractive disposition. Somehow she brought out the squalor of our situation and held it in sharp relief. My place could use a woman’s touch and she had the touch of a seasoned professional, which is how she picked me up.
I was already trying to distance myself from the events of the previous night, which was easier than you’d think – I couldn’t remember a thing, but my bed smelled of pussy and I smelled of corruption. I’d had my cheap thrills, or maybe it was she who was slumming it. This flat was a temple of cockroaches and I was the high priest of pestilence. My breath smelled of dog shit, but she didn’t seem to mind as I followed her down for one more roll in the dirt. I speared her as I worked on how to get rid of her without bruising my feelings.
This whole situation smelled foul enough without stinking things up further with a stricken conscience. It was already awkward enough that I did not remember her name. The only names I could remember were Herpes, Chlamydia and other great heroes of Greek mythology. When it was time for her to finally spit we agreed to meet again. When she was gone I threw her scribbled phone number in the trash. I had survived the Gorgon once, I was not about to press my bad luck again. In the kingdom of the roaches there were no little black books and no repeat performances. They say you can judge a man by the company he keeps – I guess that made me a transient, or a roach.