preview

David Ramirez Monologue

Good Essays

“What the fuck are you doing?” That voice rang with anger. Ah shit, I pissed him off again, didn't I? Talk about working for a guy who's hard to please. Oh no. I'm such a terrible narrator. You must be asking three questions. Who am I talking about? Who am I? Why am I reading to this? First off, you chose to. Second, I'm talking about Nevada Ramirez, Dominican-American drug lord extraordinaire. I hope that doesn't ring with sarcasm. And your narrator that you are stuck with has a name too. Harold Lockhart but I prefer Harry, however, my undercover name was Benjamin “Benji” Waterhouse. Now we're all caught up back up to the present. I roll my eyes, “About to steal those cables, which you ask me to do.” I feel a slap on the back of my head. …show more content…

You would think after being 5 months undercover I would know something in Spanish. I don't. I'm trying to learn online when I have time, but I'm not getting the hang of it. I've never been the schooling type. “Sorry,” I knew well enough to step out of his way. I watch him straighten out his leather jacket and run a hand through his slick black hair. He takes out a cigarette and smokes it while his two goons enter a small store when he gestures them to go. I take my place in the parked van acting like a cable worker. I had no clue what he wanted with the cables, he just needed them. And before I forget - here was how this heist was going to work: The goons would go in, snip wires, the place calls me, I take the wires, and replace them with shittier ones. Seemed simple enough. 10 minutes later, my cell rings, “Hello, Hendriksen's Electronics, how may I help you? ... Your wires might be fried? ... Sure... I can be there in 5 minutes... No, shouldn't take time at all... Not a problem. Ok goodbye.” I send a text to Nevada: “On the job” N: “Dont tell me til after you're done stupid” …show more content…

We get up, Nevada's arm still around me, his hand caressing my shoulder. What on earth was he doing? I usually left by myself to stay in my little apartment, which, if you're curious, is shitastic by the way. Thanks, Perry. Anyways, one thing leads to another and I end up in Nevada's condo. Talk about living in the lap of luxury. You know those films where you enter into a villain's place and he has a naked chick or two at his beckon call and some weird exotic animal? It was like that. I mean, there was a goddamn spider monkey climbing the stairs. Or is it a capuchin? I'm not a zookeeper, it was some kind of monkey. There were marble floors, modern deco, weird art everywhere. I wish I had a camera to send to Perry just to make him jealous. And there were 2 topless women who greeted him. Scarface came to mind with this guy. “Hola, Papi chulo,” a brunette greets Nevada with a kiss, caressing his crotch. “¿Oh? ¿Quien es tu amigo guapo, Papi?” He holds her hand, closer to his crotch, snarling, “Mine for tonight, Leta.” Her smile fades a little as she walks away. I couldn't help but stare at the other woman with auburn hair, “Wow, she's beautiful.” Jesus, I sounded like I was 12 again. Hell, I felt 12 including the erection that was currently happening. Nevada heard me and grins, “Isn't she? I love beautiful things.” I felt his hand brush up against my ass and started goosing me a little. Normally, I would stop this but I was

Get Access