Blues

Chapter Four

"Rise and shine, baby dealer."

I wake up to Nas standing over me like an ax murderer with the most excited of looks in her eyes. She is already dressed, it seems, but still has her hair wrapped from the night before. She pulls the sheet off of me so I have no other choice, and I'm so shaken by the whole thing that I sit straight up. Once I get a look around the room, I see that Cia is still sleeping too - or at least she was, though now that Nas has started the commotion, she is beginning to stir.

"The meeting isn't until eight, Nas," she mutters, staring at the time on a cell phone and turning back over.

Nas continues on her path of destruction and overturned sheets to rouse Cia too. "I don't think so, khanoomi. Can't be late on Sav's first day. Besides, we have to get her ready."

"Ready?"

"We're meeting with Campbell today," Nas explains. "Who's bringing another potential buyer in. And if he's anything like Campbell, if we want to get anywhere with him, it's going to have to be mouths shut and titties out. Who's ready to go pawn some cruisie woozies for buckets of rich white dude cash?"

"Wait, wait, wait," I interrupt. "What did you just say?"

"Cruisie woozies," she repeats. "Because they make you cruise, and they make you feel a little--"

"No, what do you mean, mouths shut and..."

"You can say titties, Sav."

"I don't think I want to."

"The further you get in this job, you'll get to know different buyers' styles," Nas goes on explaining, opening her own closet and holding up different clothes against me. "You have to keep a psychological profile in the back of your mind, figure out what makes them tick and stick to it so they keep coming back. Every new sale is based on referral, so buyer retention is crucial. You figure out what a buyer likes, you keep doing that so he keeps buying. The more he buys, the more he needs, the more he's willing to pay for it."

"Where did you get all this?"

"Adaline's journal, page sixty four."

"Okay," I say, only having understood maybe half of what she's saying. "So..."

"So, Campbell is a pervy little baby who can't control himself. All you have to do is distract him, and before you know it, he's signed on to buy two eight-balls a week for the next six weeks."

"Hate to ask, but eight-ball?"

"Eighth of an ounce. You'll get there. Try this on," she says, thrusting a hanger toward me.

Nas plays dress up with the two of us for what feels like the entire morning, unsurprisingly passing up all three outfits that I've arrived with. I'm starting to get the feeling that we're selling ourselves as much as the product. I've been styled and coached before, but for a reason I can't articulate, this feels different.

"Very nice," Adaline commends as we walk down the stairs dressed like a pop band. "Savannah, you look like you're going for win thirty-four."

 I look at my feet, unable to meet her eyes because I might be cursed or crumble to dust. "Thank you, ma'am."

"For the first sale, just go ahead and watch, play along, and follow Nasrine's instructions. It should be relatively cut-and-dry. Nasrine and Laurencia have been selling to this client for years. Oh," she says, turning on her heel. "And I'll need your cell phone number."

"I don't have a cell phone, Ma'am."

"No cell phone?" She repeats. "What do you have, one of those cerebral implants? This generation's entitlement astounds me. In my day, if you wanted to communicate with someone, you sent them a Snap Chat. Now kids don't even know how to have a proper social interaction."