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by James, The Sun Conqueror, Jarvis
The stories of:
Chloie•Eva•Alisha•Paula•Heather•Olivia•Kelly•Ruby•Gidget•
Erika•Nina•Jessica•Marcella•Adrian•Rebecca•Jasmine•
Marcia•Penny•Joanna•Morgan•Camille•Farah•Daisey•Carisa•
Shelly•Lea•Barbara•Patricia•Gabrielle•Fiona•Ariko•Stacey•
Helen•Heather2•Lea2•Tara•Simon•Coco•Amy•Gina•Rochelle•
Nikki•Bridgette•Danielle•Monique•Lana•Candice•and Sarah
INTRODUCTION
Who Am I And How Did I Get In Your Driveway?
Openly confess your sins to one another
and pray for one another,
that you may get healed.
--James 5:16
My Christian name is James. For a year and a half I was the top driver in the highest volume escort agency in Los Angeles. I chauffeured over 50 call girls for the meanest, most powerful madam in the city. Then I made her disappear.
I drove Asian, Australian, European, Russian, Hispanic and home-grown American hookers to Hollywood recording studios and Inglewood plumbing parts warehouses.
I hauled Buddhist, Catholic, Jewish, Protestant and Zoroastrian prostitutes to Compton doctorÕs offices, Brentwood shoe stores, skiffs docked in Marina Del Rey and to a television studio in Glendale.
I delivered females whose ages ranged from 18 to 30 to males whose ages ranged from 14 to 88. I transported exwaitresses, a French leather-clad biker chick aspiring to be a Melrose-strip restaurateur, ex-hairdressers, several heroin addicts, a couple of poor little rich girls with axes to grind against their parents, wannabe singers, models and actresses, an ex-New York City ballerina, one undercover vice cop, a few USC and UCLA pre-med and pre-law students, an overweight part-time surgical nurse, and even a few self-professed career hookers.
I drove these girls to movie producers, doctors, lawyers, unemployed actors, carpenters, apartment managers, dock workers, auto mechanics, bank robbers, international drug dealers, comedians, television personalities, school bus drivers, court clerks, arab sheiks, construction supervisors, mobsters and to the idle sons of movie stars and newspaper magnates.
It all started by accident, a random misadventure of fate. I hadn't hunted the job down in the classified section of the LA XPress or gotten it through some disreputable employment agency. I never actually applied for the job and certainly was never officially "hired."
One brisk September day I was lounging out at my apartment complex swimming pool wondering where my next computer consultant job would come from and the next thing I know, I'm parked in your driveway at 3 a.m. listening to you humping the girl with whom I had just had dinner.
It was as if I had walked through one of those science fiction inter-dimensional doorways: this morning I didn't know you, didn't know where you lived, had never even heard of the street you live on, but tonight there is a hooker in your living room and I'm the one who put her there.
I drove Asian, Australian, European, Russian, Hispanic and home-grown American hookers to Hollywood recording studios and Inglewood plumbing parts warehouses.
I hauled Buddhist, Catholic, Jewish, Protestant and Zoroastrian prostitutes to Compton doctorÕs offices, Brentwood shoe stores, skiffs docked in Marina Del Rey and to a television studio in Glendale.
I delivered females whose ages ranged from 18 to 30 to males whose ages ranged from 14 to 88. I transported exwaitresses, a French leather-clad biker chick aspiring to be a Melrose-strip restaurateur, ex-hairdressers, several heroin addicts, a couple of poor little rich girls with axes to grind against their parents, wannabe singers, models and actresses, an ex-New York City ballerina, one undercover vice cop, a few USC and UCLA pre-med and pre-law students, an overweight part-time surgical nurse, and even a few self-professed career hookers.
I drove these girls to movie producers, doctors, lawyers, unemployed actors, carpenters, apartment managers, dock workers, auto mechanics, bank robbers, international drug dealers, comedians, television personalities, school bus drivers, court clerks, arab sheiks, construction supervisors, mobsters and to the idle sons of movie stars and newspaper magnates.
It all started by accident, a random misadventure of fate. I hadn't hunted the job down in the classified section of the LA XPress or gotten it through some disreputable employment agency. I never actually applied for the job and certainly was never officially "hired."
One brisk September day I was lounging out at my apartment complex swimming pool wondering where my next computer consultant job would come from and the next thing I know, I'm parked in your driveway at 3 a.m. listening to you humping the girl with whom I had just had dinner.
It was as if I had walked through one of those science fiction inter-dimensional doorways: this morning I didn't know you, didn't know where you lived, had never even heard of the street you live on, but tonight there is a hooker in your living room and I'm the one who put her there.
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