Conversation With a Memphis Pimp

In 2013, I had a half-hour long conversation with a lovely pimp in Confederate Park. Flanked by cannons with a gigantic statue of Jefferson Davis in the background. Because it’s the South and everything is fucked up. The pimp was extremely nice and respectful, and I enjoyed talking with him. He didn’t tell me he was a pimp right off the bat, it came out naturally in conversation. He was wearing a tan suit with a slight check in it, and a fashionable winter coat. He looked like a million bucks. The conversation started simply with a “Good morning, how are you” and we took it from there. Once I told him my name, he referred to me as “Miss Sheila” with an old-world elegant air.

Here are some of the things the pimp said to me. Much of this was unprompted.

“There is nothin’ in this world, n-o-t-h-i-n-g, like a mohair suit, I am telling you.”

“I am 64 years old and I enjoy every minute of my life. Of course, I’ve been smokin’ weed all day so I’m feelin’ very good.”

Pimp: “You’re beautiful.”
Me: “Back off.”
Pimp: “No, no, I’m off-duty, come on now. Just tellin’ the truth.”

“Women are beautiful in all sizes but there is no reason for a woman to be big as a water buffalo, if you’ll excuse me, Miss Sheila.”

“My mama died at 88. She had dementia, bless her soul. I was more sad when she was in the nursing home than when she died.”

“I would buy a new Cadillac every six months. Only Cadillacs, you know it!”

“A man can face any trouble in the world, any trouble at ALL, Miss Sheila, if he’s wearing a camel hair coat.”

“You may not believe this from lookin’ at me, but I am half-Irish. Yes, ma’am, I am.”

Me: “You Southerners are not messing around. Y’all are a bunch of Jesus Freaks.”
Pimp: (roaring with laughter) “THAT IS THE TRUTH, MISS SHEILA.”

“I was a good pimp. I let my women keep their own jewelry if it was heirloom shit. I gave them milk baths.”

“Some good-for-nothin’ burned my damn house down.”

“Beale Street changed the world, Miss Sheila.”

“You’ll have to excuse me but I lost my lower bridge somewhere.”

“I been all over this world. But when you’re hungry and cold, there is no place like a Southern town. They take you in and feed you.”

“Miss Sheila, let me tell you, if you don’t do what you love in this life, then life is not worth living.”

During my walks around the city, I had been thinking a lot about the seedy glamour of Memphis, its faded grandeur, and empty streets filled with ghosts. I figured I’d go to the source.

I asked him, “So lemme ask you. What is Memphis really like?”

He thought for half a second and then replied, emphatically, “Memphis is a no-good dirty town full of redneck crackers.”