Charles Bukowski: South of the Place Where There Is No North

Robert's first desire - when he started thinking about such things - was to sneak into a wax museum one evening and make love to the wax ladies. Yet, that seemed too dangerous. He limited himself to making love to statues and dolls in his sexual fantasies and lived in his world of imagination.
One day he stopped at a traffic light and looked at the store's door. It was one of those stores that sold everything - records, sofas, books, trinkets, kitsch. He saw her standing in a long red dress. She wore rimless glasses, she was well-built - dignified and sexy as they used to be. A real classy cat. And then the green light came on and he had to move on.
Robert parked a street away and walked to the store. He stood outside at the kiosk and watched her. Even her eyes seemed real, and her lips were very pronounced, small and pouty.

Robert entered the store and looked at the records. He was closer to her now, watching her discreetly. No, there are none like that anymore. She even wore high-heeled shoes.
A saleswoman approached him.
- Can I help you, sir?
- Just looking, miss.
- If you need anything, just let me know.
- Certainly.
Robert moved closer to the doll. There was no price on her. He wondered if she was for sale. He returned to the records, picked up a cheap album, and bought it.
The next time he came to the store, the doll was still there. Robert looked around a bit, bought an ashtray shaped like a coiled snake, and left.
The third time he asked the saleswoman:
- Is the doll for sale?
- The doll?
- Yes, the doll.
- Do you want to buy her?
- Yes. You sell things, don't you? Is the doll for sale?
- Just a moment, sir.
The girl went to the back. The curtain parted and an old Jew came out. He didn't have the last two buttons on his shirt. Hair was visible on his belly. He acted friendly.
- You want the doll, sir?
- Yes. Is she for sale?
- Well, not really. You see, she is a display model. Just a joke.
- I want to buy her.
- Well, let's see... - The old Jew approached the doll and started touching her dress, her arms. - Let's see... I think I can sell her to you for... 17.50 dollars.
- I'll take her. - Robert pulled out a 20-dollar bill. The shop owner gave him the change.
- I will miss her, - he said - sometimes she seemed almost real. Should I wrap her up?
- No, I'll take her as she is.
Robert took the doll and carried her to the car. He laid her on the back seat. Then he got in and drove to his apartment. When he got there, fortunately, there was no one around and no one saw him bring her in. He stood in the middle of the room and looked at her.
- Stella. - he said - Stella, bitch!
He approached her and slapped her. Then he grabbed her head and kissed her. It was a good kiss. His penis started to rise when the phone rang. - Hello? - he answered.
- Robert?
- Yes, it's me.
- Harry here.
- How are you, Harry?
- Good. What are you doing?
- Nothing.
- I thought I'd drop by. I'll bring some beer.
- Okay.
Robert hung up, took the doll, and carried her to the closet. He shoved her to the bottom of the closet and closed the door.
Harry actually had nothing to say to him. Robert didn't initiate conversation and Harry soon left. Robert went to the closet and took Stella out.
- Damn whore! - he said. - You cheated on me, huh?
Stella didn't answer. She just stood there, looking cold-blooded and polite. He slapped her good. A woman would never cheat Bob Wilkinson again. He slapped her again.
- Bitch! You'd screw a four-year-old if you could get his penis up!
He hit her again, then grabbed her and kissed her. He kissed her and kissed her. Then he slipped his hands under her dress. She was well-built. Very well-built. Stella didn't remind him of his high school math teacher. Stella wasn't wearing panties.
- Whore! - he said - Where are your panties?
He pressed his penis against her. There was no opening. But Robert was overcome by a terrible passion. He shoved it between her legs. Smooth and firm. In and out. For a moment he felt terribly stupid, and then he was overtaken by passion and started kissing her neck while he was fucking her.
Robert washed Stella, put her in the closet behind the raincoat, closed the door, and still managed to catch the last quarter of the game between the Detroit Lions and the L.A. Rams on television.
As time went by, Robert enjoyed it more and more. He adapted. He bought Stella several pairs of panties, garters, stockings, and a bracelet.
He also bought her earrings and was quite shocked when he realized that the love of his life had no ears. Under all that hair, there were no ears. Still, he attached the earrings with sticky tape. But there were advantages - he didn't have to take her out to dinners, parties, or boring movies. To all those mundane events that meant so much to an average woman.
And there were fights. There would always be fights. Even with dolls. She wasn't talkative, but once she told him, "You are the best lover of all lovers. That old Jew was a boring lover. You love with your soul, Robert."
Yes, there were advantages. She wasn't like any woman he had ever known. She didn't want to make love at inconvenient times. He could choose the time. And she didn't have her period. And he licked her. He cut off a bit of hair from her head and stuck it between her legs.
Their relationship was initially sexual, but gradually he began to fall in love with her. He felt it happening. He thought about going to a psychiatrist, but then he changed his mind. After all, was it necessary to love a real human being? Such love never lasted long. There were huge differences among the species, and what started as love often ended as war.
And then again, he didn't have to lie in bed with Stella and listen to her talk about her former lovers. How Karl had a beautiful penis, but didn't want to lick her. And how Louie danced excellently, he could have made it as a ballet dancer, not as an insurance salesman. And how Marty really knew how to kiss well. Somehow he intertwined tongues. Etc, etc. What crap! Of course, Stella mentioned the old Jew. But only once.

    ***

One day Big Bart sent Kid with some people to hunt buffalo. Big Bart waited until they rode off, then he headed towards Kid's wagon. He climbed onto the seat, pulled back the curtain, and entered. Honeydew was squatting in the middle of the wagon and masturbating.
- Jesus, baby, - said Big Bart - what a waste!
- Get the hell out of here! - said Honeydew. At the same time, she pulled out her finger and pointed it at Big Bart. - Get the hell out of here and let me do what I want!
- Your man doesn't care about you, Honeydew!
- He does, you fool, but it's not enough for me. After my period, I always get horny.
- Listen, honey...
- Fuck off!
- Listen, little girl, listen...
And he pulled out the monster. It was crimson and swung back and forth like a weight in grandpa's clock. A few drops fell on the floor.
Honeydew couldn't take her eyes off the instrument. Finally, she said:
- You're not going to shove that damn thing in me!
- Say it like you mean it, Honeydew.
- YOU'RE NOT GOING TO SHOVE THAT DAMN THING IN ME!
- But why? Why? Look at it!
- I'm looking at it!
- Why don't you want it?
- Because I love Kid.
- Love? - said Big Bart laughing. - Love? It's a fairy tale for fools. Look at this sickle. It can always beat love.
- I love Kid, Big Bart.
- And here’s my tongue, - said Big Bart - the best tongue in the West.
He shoved it out and started doing exercises.
- I love Kid. - said Honeydew.
- Well, fuck you. - said Big Bart, ran and threw himself on Honeydew. He barely got it in her, and when he did, Honeydew screamed. He shoved it in her seven times. He shoved it in her seven times, and then he felt someone roughly pulling him.
It was Kid. He had returned from the hunt.