Latin Lettuce

I walked down the first aisle,looking for her picture. I knew a thing or two about a thing or two. I took a mental picture of the Indian guy touching himself. Something was off with that one. Down the stairs were the peep shows. Part of me was excited,part of me was disgusted. I didnt know who would be behind the curtain. I wanted it to be her but it was a dark want. I chuckled to myself,felt like I was a rookie again. I glanced down at my hands and saw the wrinkled lines of time,the dark jagged scars. No, certainly not a rookie. The black dude with the accent looks at me funny,maybe he knows I'm a cop. But I got a god damn right to be here,a right to be anywhere I choose. Something sticky on the floor. Best if I don't look down. I ask if she's there that night. The black guy nods and points to the third door on the right. I go in. I sit down. I put in my quarter. The music starts up,something by that fag Prince I think.