I lived down near Dupont Circle in my first year of college at Maryland University. It was the center of activity in the lower part of Northwest Washington D.C. There were always people in the circle, and it was easy to slide into a conversation or just listen to the chat and the guitar players. I met a lot of people there, and one of those people was Johnny Davis. He preferred to be called John, but somehow he just wasn't a John to me, so I always called him Johnny.

I went to school four days a week and I was off on Wednesdays. That gave me a lot of freedom during the week. It was an easy time to just be out and not hassled by fighting the weekend rush to get to town to make out, because I lived in town. Johnny, he was a street hustler. I use that term only because he fancied himself as such. He was an attractive enough guy with a nice build, dark hair, and stunning blue eyes. He had the attitude down that I'd seen in most hustlers, but I never once saw him make out in a big way. In spite of how I felt about most hustlers, I was immediately attracted to and fascinated by Johnny D.

He was unique. There was a contradiction in who he was and who he said he was. I suppose he was no older than I was, but he wore his years a bit harder than I did by the way of circles under each lovely eye. That's not to say he didn't look good, because he did. I remember the most distinctive thing about him was his smell. He smelled fresh all the time. It wasn't deodorant or fancy cologne. It was Johnny. He had this incredibly fresh scrubbed smell to him all the time.

I'd frequently met him down in the McDonald's off New York Avenue, where I'd go to wander and cruise. It seemed to be where he was located, professionally speaking. He'd usually smile when our eyes met, and then after waiting for a respectable time, he'd always came over and asked why I hadn't come over to him. I told him that I never knew if he was on the job or not. He always said he was but I only saw him actually work once, and it just didn't seem to be working. That's not to say Johnny didn't have flash and dash and a way with guys my age, but unfortunately, guys my age can't afford to buy it even if they'd like to.

Usually when I saw him, I would wonder what he looked like naked. That's not how most guys affect me, especially hustlers, but there was something about Johnny D. that had me sniffing around him like one of Mr. Marshall's hounds sniffed after coon. That's not to say I couldn't find out what was under his tight clothes but I was mostly vegetarian and purchasing meat wasn't in my budget. If Johnny ended up in my bed, it would need to be his idea. I had no illusions that a businessman like him would find it necessary to warm my bed.

That's what I like about life. You never really know what's going to happen next. In those days I was just happy to be able to get through each day. I didn't know where I was going and I could barely remember where I'd been. Life, after all, was a learning experience and since I was nineteen, I didn't know anything, but, like most nineteen year olds, I didn't know I didn't know anything yet, so it wasn't as bad as it might sound. What I did know was that I always went away a little wiser after spending time with Johnny, not to mention hornier, or should that be, more horny. The amazing thing is that after we'd meet, he'd almost always go with me when I was ready to leave. He seemed to like to talk to me.

Johnny had a lot of plans and would always walk with me talking about his fantasies and how he was sure they were going to come true. He talked big talk about things he did, the money he made, and the things he bought. On the other hand, I knew him as being hungry and always wanting me to buy him a burger. I'd buy him one just to be able to sit with him and smell him. Johnny was immaculate, but it was more than that. He did something for me I liked.

Most hustlers smelled like yesterday's laundry before it got into the washing machine. Mostly they smelled like my dirty underwear when I'd toss it in the corner at the foot of my bed for about a week or maybe more when I was living home. When I started to smell them, I knew it was time to do laundry. I thought that most hustlers smelled like it was time to do laundry, but never Johnny D.

His skin seemed to shine it was so well washed. You know that squeaky clean look. Johnny had a clear white complexion. There was no sign he got any sun at all. I imagine night work had something to do with that. There was also no sign that he ever needed a shave. I thought perhaps he didn't shave but I couldn't tell.

On one of my early ending school days, I made my usual trip down to the circle, beating the rush hour traffic. It was most of a block from the efficiency apartment back to the circle where I'd go as soon as I changed into something more comfortable. It was a typical day for me and I didn't know whom I might find there but I was always thrilled to be going.

Johnny came in after I settled on the lawn near some of the many musicians. I listened to their music and smelled that acrid aroma coming from the cigarettes they rolled for themselves. I didn't smoke the weed myself, but I didn't mind the effects of a little second hand smoke. It left me feeling pleasant enough as I got into their music. I got a pleasant high with none of the unpleasant risk.

Right off Johnny asked me for a burger, but this time I put him off. I wasn't always into sharing and I only had a few bucks for my own dinner, and besides, I'd just got my butt comfortable, and I didn't come down to be panhandled by such a successful professional man. I think it was the first time I told Johnny no to food. He didn't want to take no for an answer and he told me how hungry he was as I smelled the cigarettes before noticing his fragrance and my own hunger.

"If you're such a successful business man why am I always buying you lunch?" I said, thinking it would put him off for long enough for me to catch my breath.

"I'm in-between, man. I blew my bread on wine, women, and more wine. I need to get through until I score tonight, and I got some bread coming, okay. I can pay you back tomorrow. Don't be like that. I thought you was my friend."

Johnny knew that one never failed him. I didn't know where I stood with him, but I had told him that we were friends, one day when he asked, just before he hit me up for another meal as I recall. He was good company and improved my digestion, and he kept me from over eating. I tried to think of ways to convince myself he wasn't using me, but I knew he was. He couldn't help it. Johnny was a hustler. He hustled everyone. It's just that he was more successful at hustling me because I had a warm feeling in my heart, not to mention other places, when I was with him.

I knew with the money I had, there would only be one sandwich and one drink for the evening. When I told him my financial condition, he told me to forget about him, he'd make out. We ended up at Subway. We got a foot long Italian sub cut in half and a large Coke, two straws please.

"You didn't have to give me half of your sandwich," he said,

"I would have made out okay this evening. I didn't know you were so short. I'll pay you back tomorrow."

Johnny took big bites and talked while he was chewing. It looked as though he was afraid some of it might crawl off the bun if he didn't keep swallowing it. It amused me that he was trying to act like it bothered him that I had twenty-six cents left after our evening dining experience.

"Well stop eating then. If you can make out later, you don't need my supper," I said, watching him stuffing the final piece of sandwich into his throat as he eyeballed mine, which had two bites out of it when he polished his off.

"You don't like me, do you?" Johnny said, with a sad look.

"Why do you say that?"

"I don't know. You think I'm a liar. You don't believe what I tell you. I can tell. You think I'm some kind of a fool. Why don't you like me?" Johnny asked.

"Don't like you? Hell, I feed you two or three times a week, Johnny. You work, spend a lot of money, and I'm struggling to get my ass through school. I still share what I have with you. If you think I spend money on you because I don't like you, well, I don't have that much money. I mean, you're okay, and I never said you were a liar."

"It's not like I won't pay you back. I will. I just don't like it when you act like I'm working you. I'm not working you. I'm just in-between every time I see you, and I know you'll help me out. It's not like I ask for large sums of money or anything."

"I don't buy you lunch because I want you to pay me back. I never asked you to pay me back. You don't have to worry about paying me back. I enjoy your company," I said, taking a polite bite as he watched.

"You do? I thought so. I didn't mean I'd pay you back with money. I mean I will pay you back with money, but when I said I'd pay you back, well, I meant you won't regret helping me. I can be a pretty good friend when I like someone. You ever get lonely, Rick?"

Johnny usually just talked about his scores and his style. He never said anything about why we spent time together. I always thought he just talked the way he did to impress me, or maybe himself. This was the first time he mentioned the fact we had a relationship, even if I didn't know what it was. When he asked me about being lonely, I thought he sensed my feelings of despair from never finding someone to share my life.

"No. I don't get lonely," I said.

"You don't? That's cool. I just wondered. You going with someone?"

"I am lonely. I'm not going with anyone. I do like someone," I said.

"What's her name?" he asked.

I gave him a long hard look. I wasn't sure about this new game. I pretty much wrote Johnny off as a big talker. I think he barely made it as a hustler, if at all. I don't know why I didn't believe he made out very well but that's the way I felt. He dressed fairly well and his clothes were usually clean, but he didn't carry himself like he was succeeding.

"I didn't say anything about a her," I said, not wanting to go there.

"You gay, Rick?" he asked, putting his hand over mine on the Coke before taking the straw in his mouth as he glanced up into my face with a look I can't describe.

Johnny was always full of talk and stories about himself. I only knew him from the street. Being around him excited me a little, but I didn't intend to sleep with him. I mean, I guess I had fantasized about being with him and touching his body and smelling that intoxicating smell of his all night, but I knew the difference between fantasy and reality. He was a hustler and I didn't intend to be his hustlee.

"Why are you asking me that? There's only one reason anyone asks that, you know," I said.

"I get lonely. I have a room down off Pennsylvania Avenue. I have dates and all, but I can't sleep there at night. I just think about being alone. The walls close in so I walk the streets. I like you," Johnny said, "You're cool."

"You like me," I said surprised. "You've never acted like you like me. Why this sudden like? I thought I was just someone that fed you."

"See, I knew it. I knew you'd throw that up at me. I usually have money but you always catch me when I'm busted," he said. "I owe you and I'll pay you, but I'm talking about something else here. I'm talking about you always do feed me when I need it. I'm talking about how it makes me feel. That I like you because you care that I eat."

"I don't know what else you're talking about," I said.

"I live alone. You live alone. We could share a place. I wouldn't share a place with most gay guys, but I would share a place with you," he said.

"You lose your room, Johnny?"

"Yeah! But I still like you. I wouldn't stay with most guys, Rick. I haven't asked no one else. I only asked you. I don't like just anybody."

"It's not my place. I'm just watching it for a friend that's in Europe. There isn't anything there to steal. It's just a place he keeps when he stays in town on business," I said.

"Where'd you meet him?" Johnny asked.

"Just around. We met at the circle. Something like you. He invited me to dinner one time. He's cool."

"Why are you staying there?"

"Dorm living is too noisy for me. He told me I could stay over his place if I liked. While he was gone. He said he liked for someone to be there when he's away for a long time," I said.

"You his boy friend?" Johnny asked.

"No. I didn't say I was gay."

"Get real. You're gay," he said.

"How do you know?" I asked.

"I don't know. You like me. You buy me food. Straight guys don't do that."

"You gay, Johnny?"

"Fuck no. Do I look gay?"

"No. You have sex with guys, Johnny."

"That's business. I don't do that shit for fun. Not unless I like someone. I can do it if I like someone. I like girls, but you're cool."

"Why not hustle women, Johnny."

"You don't hustle women. I wouldn't hustle a woman. I like them."

"You don't like men?" I asked.

"You're confusing. Why are you asking me all these questions?"

"You were the ones asking the questions. I figured I'd ask a few," I said, moving my hand out from under his as I took a bite of my sandwich.

"Can we. You wouldn't regret it. I guarantee you wouldn't regret it."

"What?" I asked.

"Living together. Give me some of your sandwich and I could make it really nice for you tonight. I mean if you want to. I know how to treat someone."

I slid the rest of my sandwich across the table at him. He looked at my face and I put my hand on top of his as I sipped from our Coke. It stirred something inside of me to touch him. He smiled as he looked at my hand where it touched his.

"That mean I can move in?"

"I don't know, it's not my place. I don't know if I should," I said.

"How can I be nice to you if you're in one place and I'm in another?" he asked, moving his other hand on top of mine as his eyes pleaded with me.

"I don't know, Johnny. Give me a minute to think. You're hustling me and I don't like being hustled," I said.

"Can I at least put my things there. There isn't much. I don't want to lose my clothes. Just let me put my clothes there and I'll figure something out."

"Sure, that's cool. I thought you had dates tonight. Can't you stay with one of them? Big Mike might call, and I can ask him if it's okay."

"Fuck no. I wouldn't. No telling what would happen. You can't trust those old dudes. They'll put it up your poop chute in a second if you close your eyes. No fucking way. I won't stay with anyone I don't trust. If I do something I want it to be my idea, not their's."

"We'll go get your stuff and I'll think about if I should let you stay," I said, as he finished off the Coke. I don't know what happened to the sandwich, but it was gone when I looked.

"I could really make you glad you let me stay," Johnny said.

"I would be really nice."

"Quit hustling me. I'm not going to be hustled."

"I know. I know. I was just saying we could have a good time that's all. Jesus, don't have a spaz attack on me," he said. "Can't I even let you know I like you?"

"You like me or my food?"

"Man, you're cold. Forget I said anything," Johnny said, trying to seem genuinely hurt by my cynicism.

"I hardly know you. You tell me you're a hustler. I think I'm going to be a little cautious around you."

"You'll see. I can be pretty cool to my friends. Let's go get ... I'll be right back," Johnny said, spotting someone that came in.

I watched curiously as Johnny went to lean with his elbow and forearm on the counter as he faced the new arrival. It wasn't what I expected. The guy was our age and had incredibly short hair. I figured him for military, just because he was so neat and trim. Johnny's big blue eyes flashed as he fawned over the guy. The guy tried to listen to Johnny and order at the same time, both of his thumbs rapped on the counter as he glanced between the menu, Johnny, and the guy behind the counter.

After ordering, the guy dug into his pocket and he tossed a buck on the counter in front of Johnny as he paid for his meal. Johnny brought the guy back to the table, checking his ass out as he let him go first. The guy was tall, thin, cute, but stern looking.

"Rick, this is Stu. He's stationed at Fort NcNair. I met him down on the mall when he first got here. Showed him and two of his friends around. He's cool. He's from North Carolina," Johnny said, sitting next to me but fully captivated by Stu.

"South Carolina," came a long drawn out reply. "Greenville. You know where Greenville is?" Stu studied his quarter pounder, looking up into my eyes took his first bite.

His eyes were greenish bluish grayish, I couldn't decide because they changed each time I looked. His complexion was a pleasant tan. His lips were shaped perfectly and he seemed like he was all teeth as he took several quick bites of his sandwich. I felt sorry for the burger and I was a bit concerned for one of his thumbs, but he let up on the chopper action just in time to save it from becoming part of his meal.

"Sure," I said, "It's in South Carolina, right?"

"That's it," he said, "South Carolina."

"He the guy," Stu said, after devouring the rest of his sandwich.

"Yeah!" Johnny said.

"Pardon," I said.

"I need a place where Stu and I can talk a few minutes. I told him you'd let us use the apartment for fifteen minutes," Johnny said, leaning his leg against mine and sensually rubbing his knee on my thigh.

"I usually get more," Johnny said, still holding the dollar.

"I don't usually pay anything. Look, I can just go to the club. You owe me a buck," Stu said. "I don't get into that all that much."

"I didn't say I wanted more," Johnny said.

"You said you needed a buck and you could take care of things if I gave you one. I gave you one. A figure a deals a deal," Stu said, working his straw between his lips. "He ain't a watcher is he? I felt weird when my buddies was a watching us."

"It's not my apartment," I said. "I'm just watching it."

"Okay," Stu said, "But he does me and you don't be going for my package, okay," he said, looking into my eyes sternly. "I don't go for that shit. He's lucky I let him do it. I should be charging him. The babe's all want it. Don't you be telling my buddies I been seeing you either. I told them I never done that stuff before. I'd just been away from my girl so long I needed it."

"You didn't do anything they didn't do," Johnny said.

"I know. I know. Just don't be saying I let you do it again. I don't want them thinking I like it," he said to Johnny.

"Talk?" I said to Johnny as Stu sucked on his Coke, checking out my eyes again.

"Yeah! You know, talk about certain things," Johnny said, sliding his hand onto the inside of my leg. "You get to watch. He really gets into it. He's wild when he gets off. You'll see," Johnny said, as he felt my growing interest.

Stu looked around like we weren't talking about him. When he stood up, it was obvious by the spot on his pants and the way he shifted himself in his jeans, he was ready to go. I wasn't sure I wanted them to go to the apartment, but I was curious about the transaction and the price. I mean, the guy was right, he didn't need to pay anyone.

I walked behind him so I could watch his butt working against his jeans. Johnny walked with his elbow pressed against Stu's as they leaned together, talking about Johnny's favorite subject, Johnny.


Send Rick an email at quillswritersrealm@yahoo.com

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"I Always Called Him Johnny" Copyright © 10 October 2002 OLYMPIA50 All rights reserved.
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