The London Guard

WARNING: For all you people that know me for real, this post is pretty graphic so proceed with caution.

I have been asked if I ever got picked up by women. Yes, I have. One in particular that I remember. It was in the very beginning of selling myself.

I was standing at the bus stop on Cordova..right across the street from Oppenheimer Park and just around the corner from the funeral parlour on Dunlevy. (I give you the co-ordinates in case you ever go there you can actually know where I mean, because touring a poverty stricken, sad, hopeless area might be something on a visitor's agenda.)

It was the afternoon, gloriously sunny and I was standing, hoping it was looking like I was waiting for the bus. I was still thinking that perhaps people I knew may drive by since it was a busy street and I didn't want to get recognized.

This woman walked up to me and started talking. She asked me if I was waiting for the bus, and I said no. I can't remember how I dropped the hint but it was at some point understood that I was in fact, a prostitute. Then she asked me if I had ever been picked up by a woman, and I told her no. Not yet, anyways.

Her name was Patty, she was 42 and she asked me if I would give her a massage for 20 bucks. Of course I would, I told her. Easy money, so I thought. I went with Patty to her car.

She was attractive and obviously a lesbian. I guess sometimes one can't tell, but you could with her, she had a KD Lang thing going on but more feminine. She told me all about her girlfriend that she lived with, that she was an alcoholic, always expecting Patty to support her alcoholism and that they were on the brink of separation. I often heard these sorts of stories from the people that picked me up..and I tried to be sympathetic..they are people and they want to be heard AND ultimately, as an ulterior motive, it can secure a monetary bonus for me because I was nice. Patty also informed me that she herself was battling an addiction to crack.

I will admit I was extremely nervous since I had no real idea what she was going to have me do. We went to a park, she parked the car and then asked for just a simple shoulder massage which I gave her. After that, I could feel this weird sexual vibe coming off her and she asked if she could kiss me. I have kissed girls before, wasted drunk at a bar and stuff so that was no big deal. A kiss is just a kiss. She sort of went crazy after that...telling me that I was making her so "hot" and that she wanted to f*ck me and all that.

We were interrupted by some passers by and I mentioned that I had more than earned my money and that I would like her to take me back so I could score and be on my way. By this point though she said she wanted to score and that she had money to pay for a hotel room for the night and would I be interested in keeping her company. Of course I agreed on the condition that she pay for my dope and anything else I wanted. It was a very attractive proposition. At that point given the choice of doing a date with a man or a woman, I would have chosen the woman. She knew I was not a lesbian so I assumed that it was understood that I was not there for major sexual reasons. Minor sexual reasons yes...but I was still in the dark about what went on between girls. On girls. I had assumed due to the lame porn out there that it was eating p*ssy and finger penetration and all that. You know, vibrators, etc. I didn't think she had a vibrator.

We scored, she got the room. It was then that things got a little out of control. I am not sure if this is common knowledge, but a lot of time, especially with men, they get all aroused when they smoke crack. It is sort of irritating to tell you the truth, because they pick up girls, want to smoke crack and then they want you to pleasure them in a million ways while they get high. They ARE sharing their dope with you so it is basically a trade off. The down side is that the last thing I wanted to do while smoking crack was s*ck someone off. But anyways, Patty was sort of like this. It was all good until the moment when she started getting into the dope then she was a friggen maniac for my vagina and other private parts. Sigh, it was weird. Don't get me wrong, I mean, making out is fun, especially when I don't have to fake that I am enjoying "penetration" or whatever, but it was just weird. I was not naked and was a little shocked when she wanted to "f*ck" me. Fine, whatever, get her off my back and let her do what she wants to do, fake that I was enjoying it, then it's over. BUT.. it came to the point the SHE wanted ME to do the same for her. The same but different.

Now, it is one thing to kiss a girl at a bar or one of your friends when you are playing truth or dare when you are younger, but making out with a real lesbian was something I was not familiar with. All I will say is that I managed to get out of it in the sense that I didn't really have to do anything too serious with her BUT she did want me to fist f*ck her. It was then I realized that just because she doesn't want men, it does not mean she does not want to be "f*cked" in the traditional sense. I was apprehensive but she was very insistent. She had spent a lot of money on drugs and food and the room and I did feel like I owed her. So, I submitted and tried to satisfy her. She was really, really into it. I won't say that I actually DID put my whole fist inside of her but almost. I gave it the old (half assed) college try. She was on all fours..so I could not see her face and she was being very vocal during the attempt. As I said my whole fist wasn't in her but she was screaming for me to basically punch her, that is how hard she wanted me to be "banging" her. It was then that I broke.

I started crying and told her I could not do it. It was too much for me and I was very uncomfortable. Let it be understood that this in NO WAY is a reflection on how I feel about homosexuality. I am just not a lesbian, that is a fact, that is it. The crazy part of this is that really, as a prostitute EVERYTHING is negotiable. Everything. You go into it thinking "oh I would never do -------- and certainly not --------, no matter how much $$". As if, there is things that I would rather not do of course, but every offer is considered. It all depends on the $$ and the request.

I had done unspeakably horrific things (well, at this point in my "career" I was not as flexible in my "boundaries" as I was over time but as I think about it now, it seems weird to me that it was this that I had a problem with). You would think I would have this deep seated hate on for men or something but I didn't. And I still don't (but I must??). It was so easy for me (after the first time) to put myself in a different head space and allow myself to be used basically as a vessel. I mean, of course it wasn't just me lying there when I did dates, guys hire girls for all sorts of reasons, but I am serious when I say that I could have done any number of things while I gave some guy a meaningless hummer. I mean, I was on autopilot, so to speak. But not with Patty.

Okay, so, after I said that I could not do it anymore she calmed down, said she understood and from that point on she was a lot less intense. As the dope ran out she became unmanageable in a different way. She was a big time joneser. She eventually had no more money she could spend and I made some phone calls and used the room to do dates in. We were only there overnight so it wasn't like a parade of men coming in and out..I just called a couple of them and would not only get paid for the date but also would get extra for the cost of the room. I think I told them that I had to compensate someone else for allowing me to use their space.

Check out time came and Patty and I parted ways. She did say that she would be back and I knew she meant it. She had been doing the dope that I had bought with my earnings so I guess maybe that was a bit of an incentive for her. It wasn't like I was giving her mass amounts of dope but I was sharing, no big deal.

On to another encounter with her. It is a fleeting memory but this time I remember that I had been using her for her car for some reason. She was taking me to various places to meet some of my "regular" dates. I still would go downtown to work but it was me this time that had rented the room and she was just there. Jonesing. The room was at the London Guard Motel, on Kingsway. It has been torn down now, but it is a pretty well known place. Us dope addicts love the rooms that have their own entrance, so our frequent comings and goings would not be monitored. So much.

It was late on the night I had rented the room, there was no more crack and I was exhausted, I probably hadn't slept in days and I was fine with going to sleep. I had heroin so I was okay. She was not a heroin user though and was very much opposed to me going to sleep. She actually said to me" you know, lots of girls work Kingsway..you could go do that". I was so pissed off. It was so obvious that she was expecting me and had no shame in asking me to go make money for HER to get crack. Bitch.

I guess it is not an insane concept but she left that night to find fuel elsewhere and I can't remember seeing her again. I will never forget the Patty experience though.

That is it. Nothing overly profound other than yes, women pick up prostitutes too. And I am really not into fisting, not the punching kind anyways.

I also thought I would mention that my spell check tags the word "fisting" as incorrect spelling.