As some of you know, I’ve been corresponding with a prison inmate who goes by the name of “MotherTrucker.” With a tanking economy and my bookie—Goran– assuming a very aggressive posture concerning the money I accidentally lost to him, I have been looking for a way to make some cash. I asked MotherTrucker if he could help me, and he suggested that I work as a Bounty Hunter. He has provided me with a list of fugitives, and their whereabouts, assuring me that it will be safe as they are all non-violent drug-users.
Target: Shawnika Lee
38 years old
African American
12:00 AM:
I am now conducting a stake-out in front of GoodHandy’s Pansexual Playground on Church Street, where Shawnika is purported to work. It’s obviously a very popular place as the streets are very densely populated with men.
It’s cold and the bench I’m sitting on is sticky.
12:15 AM:
A man who looked like a very clean-cut biker just asked me if I would like to enter the club with him. I asked him if he knew of Shawnika, and he said, “Shawnika! Girlfriend, everybody knows Shawnika!”
12:45 AM:
Feeling kind of woozy, but also euphoric. Might be allergies or low blood sugar, or the tablets the man gave me at the bar when I ordered my Heineken. Not sure. Strangely, more men than women dancing at this club, many of them very athletic looking, not like guys I used to see in strip clubs back in Vanier.
12:55 AM:
Frankie Goes to Hollywood!!! Dance Party!!
1: 18 AM:
Notice some men hanging from ceiling by ribbons!! Look like figure skaters, only before they get in costumes! Oh, George Michael playing!! FREEDOM, FREEDOM, YOU’VE GOT TO GIVE FOR WHAT YOU TAKE!!! BEST. SONG. EVER!
1:30 AM:
Sweet, affectionate man I came with tells me I can have private dance with Shawnika and he will watch. We go to special room with crusty pillows that smell of Lysol. Take some more candy pills from man with soft hands.
1:40 AM:
Shawnika comes out dressed in light!! So Beautiful, like an angel who walks very heavy and has deep voice, like the killer in Silence of the Lambs. Oh, room swims so gorgeously! Shawnika tells me it will cost many loving dollars and tells me to give her wallet. I say “happy birthday!” and throw all my money in the air.
3:50 AM:
Wake up in room that is being mopped by a cleaning lady. No money. No wallet. Wrong pants. Call Rachelle. She picks me up. Tells me I was in a part of Toronto called “Boy’s Town.” She says that maybe my friend “MotherTrucker” whom I “don’t actually know,” might not have my best interest at heart, and maybe he’s working with clean-cut biker and Shawnika, and not me. Whatever. Just not a very supportive woman, that Rachelle. Never has been.