A one-arm man comes into the kitchen holding a drink and smiles and nods at the others in the kitchen. The transvestite gets up and offers him her seat. Once he sits down, he massages his back and shoulders and picks at the skin on his neck like a mother baboon grooming a baby.
“He’s my twin,” says the transvestite, “but we look nothing alike. We’re not identical. I think they call it fraternal.”
“Twins!’ says the one-arm man and lets out a loud laugh.
Louise comes back into the kitchen. She has changed out of her red dress. She wears a black bra and denim shorts, made ultra short due to the handi-work of her scissors. Her shorts don’t cover the bottom half of her ass cheeks. She starts to gyrate to the music and someone passes a camera around. Pictures of her are taken as she dances, preens and bends in provocative positions.
“I’m one with the camera. I really have a relationship with the camera,” she says as she slides one bra strap off her shoulder.
Johnny focuses the camera on Louise as she squats low to the floor, her legs spread while she makes a pouty face. He holds his aim for a long time before taking the picture.
“I bet that’ll be a good picture,” says the one-arm man.
“Someone give me a cigarette,” says Louise. She stabs one in her mouth as she gets up from the floor.
Johnny places the camera in my hand and mumbles, “Anyone can use it, it’s pretty simple.”
I hold the camera as Louise begins to dance in front of me. “The camera and me are one, it’s a true relationship,” she says as she slips down her other bra strap.
“Now take a good picture!” a woman shouts.
“You only get one try!” cries the transvestite.
I shoot a close up of her ear. There’s a hole in her lobe where an earring should be.