Tagging a wall gets Margaret tagged herself…

I’d repainted the wall running between my home and the alley three times this summer already. It was 10pm and I was taking some trash out when I heard the ‘psssssst pssssst’ of a spray can on the far side of the wall. Quietly I snuck out the far gate and made my way around the end of the block so that I approached the perp from behind.

Whomever it was, they were either really young, or a very petite girl. As I got closer I could make out the goth hair and clothes so I was pretty sure who I was dealing with.

When I was only a few feet away I said quietly, “Wow, nice work.”

The painter jumped and spun around, eyes wide open.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to report you. Your art is just stunning.”

“Uh…. thanks. I’m not used to, you know, being caught in the act.”

“So where did you learn to paint like this? Do you have any formal training?”

We chatted for a bit about art, what she was painting and what other walls she’d tagged. She actually warmed up and started flirting with me. I smiled quietly, setting the trap.

“So,” I said. “Could I get a picture of you with this? I write part time for a local paper and I’d love to do an article on street art in the area.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I don’t have my phone, but let me take one with yours and you can email it to me.”

“Uhhhhh.”

“Oh come on, it’s YOUR phone. You can decide later if you want to pursue this.”

“You’re gonna give it back right? It’s the newest iPhone and I just got it.”

“Yes, of course.”

She handed me her phone and I snapped a few pics of her in front of the wall and then walked over to the corner stone by my gate and smashed it against the corner, glass-first into the stone.

“Motherfucker! What the hell old man!?” She screamed at me, not believing what I’d just done. “Why the fuck did you do that?”

“Oh, I love the refractions that the shattered glass causes. Here, look at your picture now. See how crazy it looks?” I handed her trashed phone back to her.

“Goddam it, that thing was A THOUSAND FUCKING DOLLARS you stupid fuck! You’ve ruined it!”

“No, no, it’s better now! Take another look. I love the way it is now.”

“It’s NOT YOUR FUCKING PHONE! You ruined it!”

I could see the tears and frustration welling up in her eyes. She’d probably been saving for this for a long time.

“So I don’t have the right to modify your property without your consent? Was I wrong in doing that?”

“Fuck yeah you were!”

“So how long have you lived here?” I poked a thumb over my shoulder at the house.

“I don’t live here, moron.”

“So you don’t own this wall you just painted?”

She stared at me with an utterly blank expression for a moment, then the realization hit her. “Ohhhh, you motherfucker,” she hissed.

“Yeah, not so much fun now, huh?” I could see her seething, her anger just barely contained.

“You remember flirting with me earlier?”

“Yeah, so?” She pouted and folded her arms under her small breasts. Cocking her head to one side, I knew she knew how vulnerable she looked. It was completely intentional.

“How’d you like to make a thousand dollars tonight?”

“Oh, FUCK no! I know what you’re asking. Ewwww! You’re older than my DAD. And I’m gay, you idiot.”

“Oh, ok. I totally understand. BTW, I did manage to email myself those pics I took. And the audio of you admitting to tagging walls all over the city. I’ll just turn those over to the paper. It will make a great story. Sorry, but I don’t know if they’ll hand over their source to the police later. We shall see. Buh bye.” I shuffled in my pocket for my keys and then shoved one into the lock.

“No wait! Uh…”

“Yes?”

“You wouldn’t hurt me, would you?”

“Hurt you like what?”

“I don’t know, like torture or something.” She toyed with her shoe in the dirt.

“Hurting women isn’t my thing. And you can leave at any time. But if you leave before 8am our deal is off.”

“Like, what would you do to me?”

“I don’t know,” I said, running my fingers along an imaginary beard. “You’re gay, right? Then I might start with you cleaning this fucking wall. Or not.”

“How do I know I can trust you?”

“You can’t. So here’s what you do. Take a video of you and me with our arms around each other, and send it to your best friend, saying that you met this guy and here’s his address. Then say you’ll call in the morning. If you don’t, they’ll know where you are and who you’re with.”

“You could still be a serial killer.”

“You never even heard me approach you. If I had wanted to hurt you, you’d already be dead or tied up in the trunk of my car.”

She contemplated her options for a moment. I could tell she’d been on the street for awhile. She was cold, hungry and filthy. Her survival instincts told her to run, but a good meal, a hot shower and clean clothes certainly sounded good.

“Look, come on in and take a look around. If you’re hungry I have some leftover steak from lunch. You can take a shower, I’ll wash your clothes and you can have a bite. It will be yor decision to stay or leave.”

“What, do I smell?”

“Oh hell yes,” I said, holding my nose, fanning my other hand and squinting like I’d gotten sprayed by a skunk.

“Nice. Nothing like making a girl feel special.” She frowned, then cocked her head to one side and looked out from under her bangs with one eye. “What the fuck, I’ll certainly get rid of your leftovers for you. Let’s get that video sent to my friends.”

I put my arm around her and we did a typical ‘social media’ pose and she said she’d met me and gave the address.

I opened the gate and ushered her through, locking it behind us. The walk wound around to the back of the house, a stone home from the 19th century. Inside it was thoroughly modern though. I led her through to the guest suite which was the size of a small home.

“Holy fuck dude, what do you to for a living? You don’t have a place like this on a writer’s pay.” Her eyes took in the glass shower, tile floor and walls and monster jetted tub hungrily.

“Let’s say I made some shrewd investments a long time ago.”

“Damn, just – damn!” Her fingers ran through the material of the fluffy white robe hanging on the wall. “Ok, I think I need a long soak in this magnificent tub. Or do you call it a small pool? This thing is easily big enough for a party!” She cocked her head at me again.

“It has held a party or 20 in the past, but I’m sure you don’t want to hear all the sordid details.”

“Uh, ew. I’m fine and sorry for asking. I may be awhile.”

“Take your time. It will take awhile to get your clothes clean. Draw your bath and toss your things into the bedroom. I’ll run them through the wash while you’re relaxing. Oh, there’s a small wine chiller in the bottom drawer on the left. Help yourself to whatever you prefer.”

“Really? Wow! Uh, where are the glasses?”

“They’re in the chiller too, silly. Can’t have a warm glass now, can we?”

“Ohhhh, of COURSE not,” she wailed, throwing her head back with an arm across her eyes. “That SIMPLY WOULDN’T DOOOO!”

Not only was she pretty quick witted, she was funny as well. In spite of myself I found myself warming up to her. I had to remind myself that the point of this was to teach her a lesson.

I listened until the water stopped running and quietly retrieved her smelly pile of rags. There was no way I was going to run that shit through my washing machine. Opening the back door, I tossed them in the trash. Tomorrow we’d go shopping. If she made it! Otherwise she was welcome to take the robe which was considerably warmer than what she’d been wearing.

After quite a while I heard the bathroom door open and feet padding quietly up the hall towards me.

“Just to be clear, I still think you’re an asshole. But damn, a girl could get used to this.”

“Thank you. Oh, I forgot to tell you there’s clothes in the bedroom closet that you’re welcome to wear tonight. Let me go see if there is anything close to your size.”

Walking back to the bathroom, I stuck my head in to see if she needed anything else. I noticed the now-used razor and shaving cream

sitting on the edge of the tub. I smiled, wondering what she was thinking about right now. Did she shave for me? Or just because she had the opportunity? I was pretty sure at some point I’d find out.

Returning to the living room, I found her sitting in one of the over-stuffed reading chairs, her legs folded up underneath her.

I took a seat on the couch across from her.

“There’s a few things in there that might fit. You’re welcome to take whatever you want.”

“Thanks, but I think this is all I need for right now.” She parted the robe, revealing one of my dress shirts. That was all she had on, and I got just a glimpse of her smooth inner thighs before she let the robe fall back closed.

“See anything you like?” She tilted her head at me and bit her lower lip.

Jesus, the girl knew how to be sexy. “I’m not entirely sure, but it may warrant some exploration later.”

“Yeah yeah, right. Hey look. I know what’s going to go down here tonight and I’m cool with it. Not my thing, but a deal is a deal. Why don’t we just get the inevitable over with and I’ll be on my way?”

“Ha! Uh, NOOOOOO.” I said. “I haven’t even decided if I’m going to take you there tonight, let alone what I’m going to do with you in the mean time. Either way you’re mine until 8am.”

“What, you’re not going to fuck me?”

“I haven’t decided if you’re worth my time to fuck.”

“You bastard! I’ll have you know I’m very fuckable.” She reached into her robe and twisted her nipples. I couldn’t see her fingers, but it was obvious what she was doing.

“Whatever my dear. I normally only have sex with women who like guys. But if you play your cards right you may get lucky tonight.”

“I bet you’re all bark and no bite. You’re probably a ‘two-pump chump’ in the sack.” Her fingers slipped under the edges of her robe and gently pulled it apart until the edges fell away from her young body.

I could clearly see that she’d shaven, leaving just a thin landing strip of jet-black hair pointing to the promised land. Her stomach was flawlessly flat, with nary a bump, scrape or cut anywhere on her.