For some reason, when I took a writing workshop this past Sunday (see also: Not So Hot For Teacher), I was stuck on the subject of a Midget Male Escort Kleptomaniac. Here is an in-class assignment I wrote in Tyrone Tonique Tanaka's small, well-hung and well-paid voice, as he is divulging the nature of his demons to a psychoanalyst:
I finally realized why I'm a midget male escort kleptomaniac.
When I first lost my virginity at age 9, the girl I finally tricked into doing it had the most dazzling pair of gold hoop earrings I had ever seen. I had to have them. Not that I had a penchant for dressing in drag or even pierced ears. I needed to take something more from her - for memory's sake. So, I took them.
She also had two crisp fifty dollar bills tucked into her braissiere that I lifted as well. Now that I think about it, my father must have given her the money. After all, the girl was my sister's nanny.
She confronted me about it soon after. As I tried to deny it, she confessed that what I happened to do for her was so good, she'd pay me for it again.
Despite my stature, I happen to be endowed like a donkey four times my size.
So, when I pleasured her the second, third and fourth times, I took her wallet, her rosary beads and her shoes.
The onslaught of petty theft only excited her more.
By the time fuckfest number five rolled around, she had signed over her bank account to me and was stealing and selling stuff from my parents' home and giving the profits directly to me. When my parents caught her trying to hawk their Mercedes at the corner gas station for $3,000, they fired her on the spot.
"How could you do this to us?" my mother asked her.
"It was for Tyrone. He needed the money."
"He's nine years old."