Wednesday, September 23, 2009

On the Steps on Sunday



It was a Sunday morning. Early, early morning, and I think I was sitting on some steps in front of a house on Cordova St. Now, early Sunday morning is not really the best time to try to make money. Don't get me wrong, there is always guys cruising for women, but early morning with the sun shining, they cannot really remain inconspicuous while rounding the blocks. At the same time, the guys that usually cruise on Sundays, always cruise on Sundays. Maybe they go after they finish church:)

So, it was Sunday as I said and early and sunny, and very cold. It must have been about 6 or 7 am, and I was on the prowl. I don't remember being dope sick, but still, all I ever did was try to make money (with more of a sense of urgency when I was sick). And since there were so few cars out looking and lots of girls needing a date, it was definitely awesome and relieving to be the one chosen for a date. But I really expected that alot of the time. Though I had my terribly ugly moments on the street, I like to think that most of the time I looked pretty good. Normal, not obviously a drug addicted, undernourished prostitute that had been awake for 4 days and had only eaten a stick of gum in the same amount of time. Or so I thought, but I was strung out on heroin and cocaine, so when I thought I was looking alright, in actuality I could have looked like garbage. Who knows. Doesn't matter.

I saw this truck circling around and around. It was one of those big rigs trucks with a bed built into the cab behind the seats. A Mack truck, I guess it was. I had no idea who was driving it, I had never seen it before. I didn't really think anything of it, except that whoever did the date with him would be lucky because they could just do it in the back of the truck, without having to go somewhere and worry about getting caught, etc. Also, I had encountered more than one truck driver that was into crack, and would be looking for a girl to help him score. Either way, it seemed like it would be a win/win.

So, there I was sitting and waiting for the inevitable. A date of some kind. I looked up the sidewalk and there was this skinny, little Asian man walking down the block towards me. He sort of had a limp like one of his legs was longer than the other, and you could see that something was weird with his neck. I was surprised when he stopped to talk to me, as I thought he was just going home or something because we were so close to Chinatown.

He approached me, asked was I working, I said yes, I was. Then he asked me how much and I noticed how nervous he was. I told him a price, and it was higher than the norm I guess. It's weird but sometimes you can just tell what guys are going to pay well and which ones aren't. And he said, "okay, let's go". So we walked.

I made small talk, asking his name, I told him mine, etc. I generally tried to make these guys feel comfortable, to make them feel safe, like I am not gonna f@#$ing freak out and cause a scene. This is what is called good business sense. I was trying to ensure repeat customers by being nice and personable. And obviously delivering the service with a smile and hassle free. Yes, I know how retarded that sounds.

As we walk and talk, we round the corner where his vehicle was parked. And if you hadn't guessed yet, his vehicle was the big rig that I had seen cruising.

You have to understand, even I was bigger than this guy. He was tiny. And he was so nice. Excruciatingly nice. He asked if he could hug me first before we got busy, and I said sure, and we just lied there, obviously he just wanted the physical contact. Maybe the hugging made it less ugly and offensive to him to be buying sex and affection. Besides that, the transaction was completed without issue, and he paid me very well.

During my time with him, I could see that he was unable to turn his head left or right. He would actually have to turn his body to look either way. I couldn't see what was up with his legs, why one appeared to be shorter than the other. I never asked him about his neck, or his legs. I purposely did that knowing that people probably asked him all the time about that. And I just wanted him to feel like I didn't notice. I wasn't a prostitute and he wasn't paying for sex. I was just a woman, and he was just a man.

The point of this whole post is that I know I go off about how these guys are all scum and are predators. But there are exceptions to every rule, and this guy was one of them. I saw a truck just like his the other day, which is why I thought of him, and it made me so sad. It made me sad that he probably didn't go out on dates (real dates, not my kind of date) much.He was such a nice person, but because of circumstances, appearance or whatever, he was alone. I could just feel his loneliness, and it is crazy that I still think about it. Everyone needs love and affection, even if you have to buy it. Or you'll end up like one of those Romanian orphans that were kept in cages.

His name was Ty and he was the same age as me, 27.





3 comments:

  1. What a touching story. It does tell the "other side" of the story, in a very thoughtful way.

    I suppose if all johns were like this guy, life would be much more pleasant for street workers.

    ReplyDelete
  2. And if all prostitutes were like I was, then life would be much more pleasant for johns.

    ReplyDelete
  3. much to learn from this blog

    ReplyDelete