Suddenly I felt like a clown. I wished I could rub the ridiculous makeup off my face. That I had never put it on. It was all the things I hate about being weak, about having people think I’m vulnerable just because I’m a woman. “Why are you doing this? Why don’t you get a regular job?”

“And do what? Maybe I could get lucky and be a meter reader for the gas company?”

“I don’t know. You could be a receptionist. You could go to school...”

“Oh yeah, maybe I could become a brain surgeon in my spare time. Maybe... Oye, Mom.” She turned her back to me so I couldn’t hear well.

“Did Joey go to sleep all right tonight?” Then to make sure I didn’t catch any more, she switched to Spanish.

“Who’s Joey’?” I asked when she hung up the phone. “Your brother?”

“You’re too much, you know that? You’re used to poking your nose into everyone’s business. You think life’s just like walking into a holding tank and getting some complete stranger to tell you every terrible thing he’s ever done so you can concoct some defense. ‘Ohhh, she was poor. She was from a broken home.’ All that bullshit. I bet you think you’re a liberal or some kind of red, too.”

Actually I’m a “declines to state” because I don’t want to get a lot of junk mail, but I didn’t bother to tell her that. I just went and stood by the curb with my hands in my pockets. The only cars I saw were far in the distance, and it was still except for the whoosh of the Harbor Freeway, which was a couple of blocks away.

“Sorry. Guess I am a little shook up tonight,” she said after a long silence to my back. “Joey’s my baby. My mom’s taking care of him. I’m twenty-one years old. From East LA. Here’s a picture of my boyfriend, Alfredo Gomez. Anything else you want to know?” She extracted a wallet from her purse, and from it she then removed a black-and-white photograph encased in plastic, which she shoved in my face.

Lupe and a man stood side by side with their arms around each other. I took a quick glance at the handsome latino. He had a big smile and beautiful dark eyes, but he was about three inches shorter than Lupe. “Forget it. You don’t owe me anything. I’m not the cops. Or your pimp.” I turned with irritation toward the car.

Lupe grabbed me angrily by the arm and spun me toward her. “I’ve never had no pimp,” she exploded. I pulled my arm away from her to walk back toward our destination.