“Fake Driver’s License” by Julian Ramiro Coronado Villarreal

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Introduction Voice encompasses story. And dialogue is one of the best ways to hear a character’s voice. But this dialogue is completely one-sided. You don’t hear the other character because the story suggests that she's exploited (though not nameless) and therefore inherently silent. But it’s not so bleak. Humor breaks up the story nicely, though crudely (this is a story about a stripper getting her first job after all) and the single voice is not devoid of caring. Fair warning: not for the easily insulted, tee-totaling, humorless or literature-impaired. Keep your stories a-coming. I’m still looking for pieces for August. Help me keep the blog not just alive but thriving. Flashfiction@sacurrent.com. Or email me with questions, comments or concerns (and six word stories).

—Lyle Rosdahl

“Fake Driver’s License” by Julian Ramiro Coronado Villarreal Take your clothes off. I’m so sorry honey, I don’t know why they keep it dark and freezing in here all the time. You can put your clothes on as soon as I’m done with these silly little questions. I need to look for any tattoos or scars you may have. Turn around. Oh my. Wow. Honey you'll have fans. Can I slap it? Mmm. I’ll rub too. Wow, hairless. Think of a new name, something...bright. Okay face me. So you’re from around loop 13? Do you cruise Mili? You have the job if you want it. Yup, that simple. Most beautiful things are. Is there anything else you want to know about the company? We have three poles all with their own names: Zenith, Kitty, and Booby. From what I remember they are all hollow steel. Let me be blunt. Don’t do this long. College is expensive, so I know why you’re here. What do you wanna be anyways? Kindergarten teaching would fit you somehow by the way you smile. Being single is a plus babe, trust me on that one. Well you can fuck the really cute smart boy that is dragged in here once in awhile, but most men are too weak for women like us. Your shift hours are always posted by dressing room mirrors. Day crowds are mostly business boys with briefcases, however you’re night material unquestionably mama, so you’ll be sleeping in. If you see a man about to eat please feel brave enough to share a little meat. While tapping shoulders remember that sugar daddies come in all shapes and sizes while most paycheck pals are too happy to be here. No. You are not allowed to leave the building by your lonesome. We care about your safety more than you'll know. We do not drug test. Holidays are the best times to cash in, especially with married men. The main bouncer is Antonio, his father preaches Wednesday nights by Santa Rosa near Milam Park if you’re into that sort of thing. Sorry about the ceiling, it seams the stains will never leave. Always collect the money before the lap dance. Your lips are dick sucking lips. Anyone ever tell you that? Great question! Fuck me pumps are recommended. Those panties are cutie puh-tooty by the way. You can cover up now. Your back will feel cold when laying on a stage. Watch out for drool from bigger boys. Be careful of zippers unzipped. Most people don't show their money respect. So in the back by the freezer there’s sink where you must wash those petite palms after each dance. Music is a must, glad you mentioned it. Do you have any songs you like in particular? What's Dubstep? Any other questions, "Akilah"? God you look younger than you are. Want me to smoke you out by my place next to the Riverwalk? Do you have sunglasses on you? Do you like Tex-Mex? Oh I got it don’t worry. Well let's go gorgeous. --- Lyle Rosdahl, a writer living in San Antonio, edits the flash fiction blog & best of in print for the Current. He created, facilitates and participates in Postcard Fiction Collaborative, a monthly flash fiction response to a photo. You can see more of his work, including photos, paintings and writing, at lylerosdahl.com.

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