Golden Prostitute: The Tale of Flower’s Coveted Services

Once upon a time I was a homeless runaway sixteen-year-old kid and my boot-camp-boarding-school sweetheart was turning tricks on the streets of Providence.

Her name was Flower, and this is her story, one of them.

We’ll start with the time she blew up a truck, by accident.

It all started one day when my backpack was way too heavy.  It was full of thick books of poetry I had stolen from the Brown University Bookstore on Thayer Street in Providence Rhode Island, the street we were sleeping on when I was sixteen and she, seventeen.

She looked at me after deciding to go sell hippie crack (Nitrous oxide) at a Phil Lesh show with some roving poet she had started sleeping with named Vincent, the man who stole my girl and got her all strung out on dope (heroin), the man I hated with all my heart but kept it secretive in my soul… it all started one day, after a string of weeks of jealousy, it started when she turned to me and said

Greggy! I’ll hold onto your books tonight! You take a break from all that carryin!

So I gave her my books. My only possessions.  She left with Vincent in his beat up truck to go slang hippie crack while my mission was to sell all the acid Vincent had fronted me while they were away.

I’ll be back at 4am! She told me.

Well, she never came back.

I waited till like fuckin noon the next day at the spot by the dumpster outside Store 24 before I saw her RUNNING full speed. She had more dangling shit hanging from her Dreadie hair and flowery long dress than a fuckin.. I dunno she had a lot goin on.. So she’s RUNNING and laughing.

Then I see Vincent.

He’s SPRINTING and not laughing. He’s livid.


I yelled as she whizzed right by me. She took off behind the dumpster and slid into a skinny alleyway and hid somewhere that I couldn’t really see from the street corner I was watching this all go down from.

Then Vincent stopped. His Puerto Rican dreadlocks soaked in sweat. It was summer. He’s mad outta breath and slouched down with his hands on his knees trying to catch his air, gasping like he hadn’t swallowed oxygen for a week.

Dude. Wtf?

He ignored me then ran into the brown bookstore.

I didn’t know who to run after so I ran after Vincent cause I didn’t know where the fuck Flower was.

I followed him downstairs to the Internet room where the computers were and he jumps on one of the computers and starts slamming the keys on the keyboard like they were each calling him racist names or some shit.  He’s just typing like mad, doesn’t see me at all, and sweating still and I’m just standing on the stairwell lookin down at him wondering


finally, after finishing what I can only assume was some acid derived poetic sentence that made no sense, he looked up at me straight in the eyes and said


Then he went back to typing like a goddam lunatic. Not sure what he was typing.  But then he told me.


Oh, so I guess he was emailing her parents. Anyway, her parents wrote back pretty quick and told Vincent he was an idiot for dating such a whore and to never contact them again.

So then I run outside lookin for Flower.

Where the fuck is she?

At like 4pm, I was sitting on my blanket lighting incense spare changing and she comes crawling outta that alleyway.


She looked around James Bond style then took one look at me and burst out laughing.

Where’s Vincent?! Is he [insert insane laughter] gone?

Yeah he sent your adopted parents an email asking them for a new truck? He said you owe him a new truck?

She laughs even harder.

Anyway they wrote him back and called you a slut.

Laughing harder… Yup! Those’re my parents!!! Hahahahahah

So what the fuck happened?

“We went to see The Slip. We drove to Connecticutt for the show! One of the skater punks from Thayer came with us. Everything is a blur! I rolled so much…  Umm Vincent was feeding me rolls, hits of acid and we were smoking weed… I don’t remember the show… But after the show… The truck wouldn’t start, it had overheated… Vincent poured water under the hood and eventually it started working again… We all got back in the vehicle… Waited a bit… I lit a freaking candle… I put it in a slot where I think a radio belonged… I drifted off from a high into a sleep… I wake to Vincent screaming get out of the car!!! I look to see a fire between us! Vincent grabbed the closest bottle of liquid he could find and started throwing it on the fire… Unfortunately he’s an idiot and that liquid was mouth wash… Mouth wash has alcohol in it… Alcohol is flammable…. Ugh… The fire took over the car! We ran to get away from it because it was spreading so quickly! We were probably a car lengths away when it went BOOM!!! We turned and it was so amazingly beautiful… Wow! This is awesome… Close call! The ambulance , fire truck and everyone else came! Vincent isn’t overly pleased… Ask him his side of the story… I just don’t want him asking me for money… LOL… I wasn’t the idiot that poured a bottle of mouth wash on it… I was the idiot that fell asleep with a lit candle… Hahaha…”

But then i said FLOWER! Where the FUCK are my books?!?!  Right after this all happened, I was like YO, MY BOOKS!





so yeah, that’s the story of how Flower blew up a truck, by accident. It’s just one of Flower’s stories, but there are many more.. Some not so pretty. Here’s another crazy story for ya…

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