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A real smooth con artist brings back her boy frien


CON JOB



My name is Jason. I was sitting in the Moon Over Miami Chicken Cafe in San
Francisco's Fillmore district, eating a plate of drumsticks, finishing
a glass of wine, and spending the very last of my money, when in struts Vina
Washington.

Vina is a real looker, catches the eye of every man when her slim, ebony
body struts by. She always wears tight dresses. Dresses so tight you can
almost make out her vaccination scar.

Vina paused, looked about, saw me, and came over to my table. She'd
been crying. I looked at her with caring concern.

"Hey! What's the matter, baby?"

"That no good boy friend of mine done left me for another woman."

"Here! Sit down. You mean Jefferson done gave you the sack?"

"Uh, Huh."

"That's bad, baby. You want him back?"

"Ah sho' do."

Vina was really grieving. I knew Vina had been well kept by Jefferson.
That purse of hers probably carried a fair number of greenbacks. I felt she
should share this money. I decided I'd solve her problem. Of course, there
would be a payment for my services.

"Vina. You ever hear of Voo-Doo Joe?"

"Uh, uh. Who's Voo-Doo Joe?"

"Moved here from New Orleans. Makes a specialty of bringin' strayin' men
back to their women. Yes, suh! Known at least a dozen cases where he done
brought a womans' man back and the man never strayed again."

"Really?"

"You bet, baby. He's the man you gotta see. I'll guarantee you, he'll
get you Jefferson back, and you'll be real happy again.

"He'll guarantee it too?"

"Uh, huh. ....Course, he's gonna charge you."

"Charge me? How much?"

"A hundred dollars."

"I can afford a hundred dollars."

"Then you just give me the money right now, baby. I'll get in touch with
Joe."

Vina opened her purse and counted five twenties into my hand. She trusted
me. She now had hopes. She was smiling when she left. Now, all I needed, was
someone Vina didn't know that would make a good Voo-Doo priest.

....

My lodge buddy, Willie Jones, was a good actor. Besides, he'd like to
make twenty bucks. Since we both belonged to the Black Brothers lodge,
we'd just slip in one night and borrow the costume of the Grand Wizard.
No one would really care,... if we weren't caught.

A night of the following week, I drove Vina out of town to a real
isolated area where she was to meet Voo-Doo Joe. Willie had set the stage real
good. He was sitting on a log near a small fire decked out in the garb of the
lodge's grand wizard. He wore a red fez, bearing a half moon pin and a
couple of trinkets he'd found somewhere. He had the bone around his neck
that I'd watched the dog bury and then I dug up and tied a string on. I knew
he didn't play the bongos, but a pair were at his side.

We'd parked the car a ways back, and walked the dusty path in silence.
We stood quietly in front of the small fire. Willie didn't speak, not
until he finished a ritual of drawing a mystic design in the glowing embers.

"Yo's Vina. You want yo' man, Jefferson, back?"

Voo-Doo Joe spoke softly, with authority, without lifting his eyes from
the fire.

"Yes, Suh!. Ah sho' do."

"And you'll faithfully follow my instructions? If yo' don't,
Jefferson ain't returnin,' and you gonna get sharp pains in your back."

For effect, Willie gave the bongos a couple slaps. Bam! Bam!

"I'll do anything to get my man back, if you guarantees it.

Bam! Bam!

" I guarantees it. Now this is what you gonna do:

First, every night, for the next seven days, you're gunna scrub your
body til it shines. Then, you're going to perfume yourself up and put on your
best negligee. At precisely at ten p.m. you're going to open your front
door. Jason will be standing there. You'll take him in your bedroom.
You'll pretend he's Jefferson. You'll screw his ears off. This'll send a
message to Jefferson. He'll be receive it as you screw. The harder you
screw, the more powerful the message. Jefferson will want you back real fast."

Vina glanced at me, bewildered and hesitant. I didn't doubt she wouldn't
follow instructions. Willie didn't tell me he was going to tell her this.
I was already grinning to myself.

Voo Doo Joe continued: "On the eighth night, there'll be a full moon.
That day, dig a hole in your yard exactly one foot deep. At midnight, when
the moon is full, take a pair of Jeffersons socks, put them in the hole.
Piss on them. Cover the hole. Your Jefferson will return to you the next day.
......That is all."
Willie hit BAM! BAM! on the drums again then hung his head. The session
was over.

The following day, I found Jefferson. He had had a fight with his
new woman and she'd left him. He was pretty much down in the dumps, feeling
sure Vina wouldn't talk to him, let alone take him back. I told him that for
fifty bucks I could arrange everything so she'd love him again. I'd need a
week to get things fixed up. Then, the day after the next full moon, he could
arrive at her door, and she would welcome him with open arms.

Jefferson wasn't a trusting soul. He gave me the fifty bucks then
flashed his switch-blade. He said if I was lying, I was going to get cut
real good.

For the seven designated nights, I was at Vina's door at 10 p.m. and
got my "ears screwed off."

"Just pretend it's Jefferson," I told Vina. She did, and worked
even harder.

The night of the full moon, I met Willie at a real nice cafe.
Willie had snuck the Grand Wizard costume safely back into the lodge locker.
I gave him an additional twenty dollar tip. We both ate the most expensive,
delicious spare rib dinner and drank the best tasting wine. I glanced at
my watch. It was midnight. Vina would be squatting over the hole, her bare
black ass shining in the moonlight, pissing on Jeffersons socks.

Tomorrow, Jefferson would return to Vina. He would be happy. Vina
would be happy. I was happy. I'd not only made a few bucks, also had my
"ears screwed off."

The End




 
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