That’s the Sound of the Man

“Takin’ off the shirt, boss.”

“You’re new.”

“Yeah, they sent me up today. Christ, it’s hot. I’m really working up a good sweat. How does my hair look?”

“Uh…okay, I guess. What are you in for?”


“Huh. Tell me about it. I’m totally fucking innocent, but I had this shitty public defender who…”

“No, I mean I’m a volunteer.”

“A what?”

“I wasn’t convicted of anything. I’m volunteering for this.”

“What are you, some kind of social worker? A student or something?”

“Nah, I’m an investment counselor.”

“Why would you volunteer for a thing like this?”

“I read it was a great way to meet women.”

“To…to meet women.”


“A chain gang.”

“What, you never heard that?”

“Nope. A great way to meet men, I could see, if that’s your idea of…”

“Hey, It was in Men’s Health. They don’t just make this shit up, pal.”

“Well, I mean…I guess I just don’t get it.”

“That’s obvious. It’s the danger, buddy. Chicks dig a bad boy, haven’t you ever heard that?”

“Sure I have. I just thought that ‘dangerous’ stopped shy of ‘actually incarcerated’.”

“The badder the better, man. My phone has been blowing up. Or at least that’s what my secretary says when she gets visitation.”

“And the uniform and the shackles don’t put women off?”

“Not off me. Orange is my color. I’m an autumn.”

“So, I mean…how do you meet these women? Ususally the only way I meet new people is in the shower, or if I get chained to them. Like you.”

“Well, like, if a chick drives past while I’m laying down tar, I remember her plate number and have my secretary track it down. Or sometimes I’ll be on the train and we’ll go over a freeway, and I’ll tell some real looker with big tits that I was the guy who did the grading on it. Women are suckers for the whole working-class act.”

“Yeah? ‘Cause I used to be a welder, and I never really noticed that.”

“You weren’t on the prowl. That’s your trouble. You look at this whole being on the chain gang thing as a problem.”

“And what is it?”

“An opportunity.”

“So…you’ve really gotten a lot of women out of this.”

“Well, not really. But it’s just a matter of time. This is a very public gig, high-profile. My name is ringing out.”

“I bet.”

“Hey boss! Usin’ the styling clay.”


%d bloggers like this: