Ruthless

Chapter 10 - Mustav

Ruth was surprised at how little she stood out on the Las Vegas Boulevard strip at four in the afternoon. Despite her scanty outfit and horrendously overdone makeup, no one was taking much notice of her at all. Although she’d grown up in the neighbouring city of LA, she’d never been to Las Vegas. It was nothing like she’d imagined. The afternoon sun exposed the layer of grime covering every flamboyant facade and towering sign. The air was dusty, hot and stifling and the greasy black asphalt of the roads gave off an oppressive heat that quavered on the horizon. Only darkness could make the place seem grand.

Ruth had chosen a relatively quiet part of the strip to stage her performance. She strutted provocatively over to a nearby pay phone and leant against it, chewing feverishly on some gum. Las Vegas locals strode past without so much as a sidewards glance and the occasional tourist averted their eyes as they wandered down the Boulevard taking photos. After two hours and twenty-one minutes of looking pathetic, and a little lost, Ruth decided she would have to take real action. Until then, she had relied purely on her appearance to advertise that she was a hooker, but now she would have to try soliciting some passer-by to really make the point.

An older man in a cheap business suit walked by. Ruth thought that maybe she should wait for a more sophisticated person, someone that was less likely to actually take her up on her bogus offer. A few minutes later, a tourist couple strolled towards her. Ruth guessed that they were Japanese; both the man and the woman had huge cameras dangling around their neck. Perfect. She stepped out from around the phone booth as the couple approached.

“Looking for a good time, mister?”

“Yes, yes we are,” the woman replied excitedly in a thick accent.

Ruth dropped her sexy pout. “Huh?”

“Yes, we sight-see. Do you know where we find famous sign?”

“Oh,” Ruth said, slipping back into character and feigning disappointment. “No, I’m not from around here.”

After the couple had bowed vigorously and strolled onwards, Ruth took up a downright pornographic pose against a nearby wall. With her back to the wall, she bent one knee and tucked her heel against it. Her already short dress rode up to reveal the sides of her black underwear. It was her final endeavour to scream, I’m a prostitute! without actually verbalising it. After several minutes, Ruth finally decided to give up. It was still only 6.45 pm and clearly too early to be out like this. Mustav’s girls probably didn’t start until after dark and if the girls weren’t out, it’s likely their pimps weren’t out either. She would just have to try again later.

Ruth opened her gold chainmail bag to retrieve her cell and call Vince but just as she did, a shrill whistle attracted her attention. She looked up to see a man in a white polo shirt and large baggy jeans walking towards her. Ruth eyed him cautiously. His huge watch and thick gold necklace glinted in the waning sunlight as he swaggered across the street but the real spectacle was revealed when he flashed Ruth a sideways smile, revealing gold grills.

“What are you looking for chica?” he asked while adjusting his privates.

“What you got?” Ruth asked with feigned confidence.

“I got some good advice for you ho,” he responded. “Get the fuck off this street before you get seen by someone else. This street is owned and if you wanna work it, you gotta ask first.”

Ruth fiddled with her handbag strap nervously. “I’m new in town and I didn’t know,” she said. “I’ll head down town.”

“That’s owned too,” the man said. “This whole strip is owned so you either gotta join the crew or you get the fuck out.”