Rosie’s Righteous Rules

"Rosie’s Righteous Rules" by BV Lawson

Issue 3.7 | Fiction

Cover Art: L. Erickson

Rule number one with Rosie Cailean O’Brien was to never get stinkin’ falling-down drunk, because that was a stripper’s ticket to assault or worse, and she’d been careful about it until a week ago when she let Joe Wattana buy her some drinks, and she let it slip about the inherited rare coin collection she kept in the club’s safe so she could one day sell it and move to Hawaii and start her own landscaping business.

Rule number two with Rosie Cailean O’Brien was to stay on good terms with the club’s regular gents and develop an armor-thick skin so that she wouldn’t let all the relentless catcalls, pats, slaps, pinches, grabbing, and disrespect get to her unless it reached the point where someone crossed a red line, and Joe Wattana had crossed that red line when he got into the club’s safe and stole her rare coin collection.

Rule number three with Rosie Cailean O’Brien was to read everything she could on the internet using the club’s computers about the adult entertainment business and tricks of the trade, about victims’ laws and rights, and about anything and everything that might come in handy some day in the event of an emergency when someone like Joe Wattana eventually crossed that red line.

Rule number four with Rosie Cailean O’Brien was to learn to use any and every tool or device she ever came across, whether it was ratchets or sex toys like body paint, or a digital camera, or a car’s engine, or tying knots, or a loaded a gun because you never know when it might come in handy.

Rule number five with Rosie Cailean O’Brien was to get revenge if someone ever crossed that red line because she couldn’t trust the police since no cop would ever listen to a stripper, and the club’s gents usually had more than enough money to hire high-priced lawyers who could make it look like she was the real crook and not the red-line-crossing gent.

Rule number six with Rosie Cailean O’Brien was to remember her late Mama’s words about “creative is as creative does,” which is why it was so incredibly easy to get Joe Wattana to tell her at gunpoint where he’d hidden the coins and then make him strip naked, tie him up, and  photograph him with various sex toys attached to various appendages and the words, “I’m a sick pervert” painted on his pasty, flabby skin.

Rule number seven with Rosie Cailean O’Brien was to know when to cut your losses and grab an opportunity when you can, which is why she was on the airplane right now looking at the photos she’d threatened to send to Joe Wattana’s family, employer, colleagues, and the press if he didn’t keep his goddamned mouth shut, while she sailed over the blue waters of the Pacific to Honolulu, where the weather was mild, the flowers were exotic and beautiful, and she’d never have to worry about rules number one through six ever again.

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BV Lawson’s poetry has appeared in Noir Riot, International Poetry Forum, Midwest Poetry Review, and more. BV’s stories have won the Dillydoun fiction prize, SMFS Derringer, Noir Nation Golden Fedora, and Gemini Awards. She’s also been longlisted for New Writers Flash and Fish Short Story prizes; shortlisted for Flash 500 and Anthology Magazine awards; and a finalist for Pulpfictional and Tucson Festival of Books Literary Competitions.