The Life and Loves of Lola Magdalena - Luis Chaluisan Salsa Magazine roughrican - Spic Chic excerpt
Lola Magdalena walks this earth with big
brown eyes, wet red lips, tremendous hips and a
full 36 C Chest. She always stands naked before
her dresser mirror and puts on her high heels first
then her lipstick before getting into her evening
clothes as she eats Violets to make her breath special.
Lilac oil shines on her body, "If things go
right at some point in the evening I'm going to be
standing at the foot of the bed after working out
poppy chulo and I want to make sure he never forgets
me. And what man can forget all this when
I’m looking at him with nothing on but my heels
and my red lipstick?”
Lola’s a natural-born series of adult novels
that keeps her lines in hardbound journals and
books of dreams. She spots a good-looking policeman
one-day on 17th Street and walks up to him
waving “hello” with her hips."I've been a naughty
girl, and I need to be arrested."
She keeps on walking but soon she hears
the snap of a handcuff on her wrist, "Maybe we
need to discuss the penalty for your crime."
She spends a wild evening with him trying
all kinds of positions dressed in his uniform shirt,
handcuffs and nightstick. Then she doesn't see him
again for a couple of months but when she does
she treats the chance meeting with typical Lola
Magdalena aplomb.
When cocaine begins flooding New York
in the eighties, Lola and company are right there
sniffing on the front lines. Her friend, Coriana, becomes
a vacuum cleaner one night and starts panicking
that she overdosed; her heart’s racing too
much. They flag down a cab at 10 in the morning
still in their party dresses and head for Bellevue
Hospital. Lola Magdalena was born there and she
figures that's where she’s safest. Besides, she doesn't
want to go to Misericordia Hospital in the
Bronx because she’s afraid someone from the
neighborhood might see them. Once at Bellevue,
the emergency room doctor administers some Valium
to Coriana and insists that Lola undergo a test
too because she has a faster heart rate than Coriana.
As she’s lying on the emergency room gurney,
Lola looks up and who does she spot but the
policeman she spent the evening with a couple of
months earlier.
"Cori, look ... can it be? That's the cop I
slept with!" and begins laughing hysterically as
she pulls the hospital bed sheet over her eyes still
shaded by her sunglasses "Do you think he'll recognize
me?"
Coriana, who disrobes under the hospital
sheet because there are good looking interns
around, dryly responds "how can't he ... look" and
raising her toes exposing her waxed bikini line
points to the emergency room tally board where
their names appear in bright red marker "Lola
Magdalena - Coriana Alacran."
Never one to miss an opportunity no matter
how inopportune a moment Lola writes her number
on her discharge papers and passes it to the cop
on the way out. He never calls.
You can't judge a book by its cover or even the
first few chapters. She may party too much, have
married lovers and run herself into the ground
clubbing. But she still has a level of selfacceptance
and nerve tempered by her own code of
rules that makes her one of the few women I meet
in my life who really has big balls.
As they pass from their party girl phase,
Lola Magdalena and Coriana begin traveling different
paths.
I lose contact with them for a few years,
but come to find out that Coriana drifts away with
some Colombians at Lopez’s after-hours club on
Webster Avenue, while Lola Magdalena goes into
the sex business with some Russian gangsters as
the times change. Starting off as a barmaid at The
Corso and part-time stripper at the topless clubs,
Lola answers an ad one day in the Village Voice
after the Corso's owner is popped by the Feds for
heroin trafficking and the club closes. She becomes
a 300-dollar-an-hour call girl. "We always
have tight security at The Red Room so it's hard
for the cops to bust us. The place is next door to a
restaurant and you can enter the building through a
side door near the kitchen. So no one can tell if
you're going to eat pasta or pussy.
Once you get in you have to give the security
guys your name, a business card and your
work phone number. That way they can check you
out if you're for real. If the guys suspect anything
they'll take you into a room and make you smoke a
joint. That way they can tell if you're a cop or not.
After you get through all that you can come in and
see the girls who can be pretty superstitious.
We never leave a handbag on the floor because
that could be bad luck - your money can
walk. And a lot of us throw dollar bills under the
phone line next to the "in call" receptionist so we
get some good clients that night. Sometimes the
dates can get really weird.
These eastern European guys like to check
you out like if you're a horse or some vegetable at
the market. I put a stop to that right away. I'm no
melon to be pinched; I'm a passion fruit ready to
get eaten."
Celebrities don’t phase her. A running
buddy from her building hooks her up on a special
call with a young Academy Award winner. “You
know I could have really exploited that but I didn’t.
When I got there he was passed out on the
floor in his boxers. He got up but that was my coke
hell days. I just wanted to score. He understood
and my running buddy drove him down to Harlem
where he’s got a honey stashed. Yep, my girlfriends
told me I should have gotten some cash or
a mink or something out of that because you know
that kind of guy pays to keep you quiet but what
the hell. He’s just another guy trying to get his shit
off.” Lola goes from wild child to dominatrix by
the time she’s 27 and it bothers her.
She chills out for a while in New Mexico,
then plunges back sober with a vengeance into the
hers and get out. She lines up a couple of rich businessmen
as regular clients; their new-age courtesan,
“I’m constantly looking for a third millionaire
to round it out but a girl only has so many hours in
the night ... I always wanted to work the houses
and out-call because it comes with a sense of
power. I get what I want and make some serious
dough by doing what I do." I'll tell you what kind
of power she has tapped in between her hips, lips
and fingertips. Hanging out one evening at her
apartment on Magenta Street, Lola Magdalena got
a call from the Saturday night DJ’s on la Mega
FM. They talk with her for a little bit just to tell
her that they’re going to dedicate some music to
her and within ten minutes Lola Magdalena's name
is blasting over the airwaves. Lola Magdalena
never calls anyone. They call her and let the world
know that Lola is in the house. 27 calls to home
girl's private line from Lola’s school of romantic
gladiators follows that Mega shout out. Lola gets
out of the call-girl/mistress business by launching
a successful candle empire at age 30 with the help
of her main client. Today she supplies small stores
from New York to Miami and they even flicker in
the houses she once worked lighting the path for
wayward sinners and adventurous souls.
Lola Brillante
Wax Art and Candles
Miami - New York – Singapore
She teaches me local celebrity is just as
good as universal. It's all a matter of perspective.
Spic Chic: The Adventures of the Last Nuyorican
Paperback: 100 pages
Publisher: Fly By Night Press; 1st edition (March 24, 2009)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1930083173
ISBN-13: 978-1930083172
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