A Celebration of Decline

This time I will be changing a name. Not out of kindness (as if) but just because. I get a thrill when I tell a story about "John" that drove the silver SUV or whatever...because if by some odd chance John ever came across this - he would probably pee his pants thinking that he is outed. When in reality he isn't the only John driving that type vehicle and certainly not the only one with that name/car cruising for girls on the stroll. But I am not going to leave out ANY details besides his real name. It isn't a very common name and for some reason my insides are telling me to leave that much out. Who knows why - but I can't argue with nature.

Okay so there was this guy, doesn't matter what his name is..I will call him D. Klein (ha ha "decline" - but that is his first initial and half of his last name though. Remember!! No one is completely safe). I was out one night working - it was early..and this creme coloured 70's Monte Carlo was cruising. Hard. (Oh, typing "hard" made me think about one sleazy thing some guys used to do. They would cruise for chicks and then pull up to talk to you and actually just be driving around with their c*cks out, masturbating. They would get all thrilled when we would spot their "pieces" through the open window. Like as if we were supposed to be impressed. As if I am going to be sooo into doing a date with him because of what his junk looks like. Idiots.)

So D was cruising and I think I winked at him or something or did something to get his attention, who knows what it was. See most girls would just run after the cars (yes, they did that) so anyone cruising always had to make sure that their doors were locked because girls would jump right in and not get out unless they got some money. I preferred a different approach. If you seem like real person then chances are you would make money faster. Plus, I had lots of confidence, which came hand in hand with being lit up most of the time. So, of course, he parked and came over for a chat. A deal was struck and I agreed to accompany him to his house which was very close by.

He was nice, not bad looking, totally normal and we did what we did and that was it. When he dropped me off I said "see you tomorrow" because I knew he would be back. He was too, the next day, which was sooner than I thought, but money is money.

We ended up spending quite a bit of time together...he grew a particularly obsessive yet totally not unexpected fondness for me. It happens out there, as I have mentioned before. They think they love you, want to save you and all that crap. He was like that but sort of different. Maybe in real life we would have hit it off. Probably not though, doesn't matter really.

He knew I worked the streets and never tried to get me to stop...outright. I would spend the night at his house sometimes and he would leave me some money on the table so I could get well in the morning. Then of course... the inevitable...these guys always want to save you and make you better and then the girl is supposed to be all grateful and he owns her and all that other vomitus stuff. When this would happen with guys one would have to buy into it to a certain extent. What I mean is, is that if they want you to get clean then you tell them you will get clean. Then they give you money, thinking they are investing in the future maybe and everything is fine. They are so oblivious to the fact that you have no intentions of following through but if you tell them that then is no more money. I mean, if I was wasted enough I could say anything and mean it. A few times I probably said I would go to detox and believed it when I said it.

Anyways, we were chilling..time was passing. I think he even gave me a key to his house once....he took me to his work (a bakery that he owned and operated, he supplied most of the baked goods for the airport, etc) and he would feed me...wash my clothes..he even met my parents when I was at their place for a couple of weeks when my Dad had decided to rescue me. D came out there and got me and brought my parent's all this bakery stuff. Of course I told my Dad he was a friend of mine from "recovery" not that he was a "date" and then when he was gone, me and my Dad would laugh (not at him, really) because he wasn't the only one that was trying to get a hold of me at my parent's. We laughed because I was the worst possible candidate for a romance but yet they persisted. (The time at my parent's only lasted about 2 weeks - read back posts if you don't know this.)

So, eventually it came the time that I had to put out or get out as they say. I had put myself into a bit of a corner and I had even made a detox appointment (to get a bed) and everything. It was agreed that I would go make as much money as possible - buy as much dope as I could and then be back at a reasonable hour and have my last hurrah, so to speak. Then go to detox the next afternoon.

That night was a particularly prosperous one for me. My first date took a measly 15 mins and I made about $120 bucks. I called him, stoked, to tell him what happened and I remember he made me so mad. He didn't believe that I had done some simple sexual favour and gotten paid that much. He thought for sure that I must have been anally raped by five guys or something. Like as if he didn't think my time was worth that amount of money. Cheap bastard - just because HE didn't think it was worth that much, that didn't mean every one didn't. Whatever, I made money, went back to his house and the next day came. He had to work that day so he didn't take me to detox, my (previously mentioned) friend Richard did.

I sneaked in some crack with me and made it through the first night. I think I was on methadone at that time so I wasn't overly concerned with being dope sick but jonesing is just as bad. Crack is also a terrifying and intimidating habit to kick, despite it not being "physically addictive (so some say).

The first FULL day I had at detox I had had it arranged that the individual that had dropped me off the day before was to come visit me and then drop a rock in my hand on the way out. BUT, D happened to decide to visit me the same day and ran into Richard at the door. One visitor per person, I guess, and D (having a major hate on for my "friend" Richard) made sure to stay the whole hour so I wasn't able to see the other guy and so I didn't get my rock. Needless to say, I left detox about 15 minutes after visiting time ended. I used to think about that and think what if I HAD gotten that rock, I would have at least made it through detox another day. Maybe.

Oh, and just to be super nice and win over all of the ladies that worked the detox D.Klein even brought me flowers when he came to visit. Later on he told me that when he went back the next day to visit again and found that I was gone....all the ladies told him how sweet he was and that no one ever brought flowers two days in a row. Was I a jerk for leaving? Maybe, I never said I was a princess, he picked me up on the street for f*ck sakes.

D and I had minor dealings after that. Immediately after the whole detox fiasco he made a habit of picking up other girls and driving by me, like as if I cared. I just wanted to do my job and get high, the end. He even chased some cars I got into, screaming that I was his girlfriend. Me and my cohort would just laugh. But of course, D came back, eventually. I had a gift and he wanted it. It was never like it was in the beginning, though. He ended up finding out that I had been raiding his house for hidden money (raiding that took place during our "romance" - I don't know what to call it- but he didn't realize it until months after I did it) and as a payback he acted all nice to me, bought me dope and let me sleep at his house one night. When I woke up and he was gone to work - I saw he left me no money to get well and so I was sick and had to make my way downtown on my own. No money for even bus fare.

That was his best revenge, I guess. It sucked but it wasn't overly harsh. I woke up sick everyday anyways and most of the time I didn't have any money to get better, I had to go and make it first. The only thing that was a bit of a screw over was that if I had known I was going to be broke when I woke up, then I wouldn't have even gone to sleep.

It was just business between us in the end. I never went to his house again though or anything like that. He treated me just as a prostitute after that. He paid me money to do things, and I did them. I know he got sublime satisfaction though on the super cold, winter early mornings that he would see me out there, knowing I was most likely sick as f*ck. He worked really early in the morning and the stroll was actually on the way to his shop.

Four times I was put into detox by "dates" that were having crazy fantasies of our future lives together..and this time was the longest I stayed. 26 hours.

Blow J*b Bob

This begins with my very first experience with a detox facility..(awww, cute - you always remember the first one) and coincidentally it was also my best experience at a detox facility. Not that this has anything to do with the story I will be telling here but I thought I would throw it out there. If you ever have to go to detox in Vancouver BC, Vancouver Detox is the best. Most likely you will get sent to Cordova Detox (lame)..even Maple Cottage sucks (so I thought at the time- but in the moment all detoxes suck, especially now that you can't smoke. When I think back now though - time in a detox facility seems like it would be very relaxing..minus the whole kicking heroin/withdrawal aspect).

During my first stint in detox...I was at a NA meeting that was taking place there and there was a big scandal unfolding amongst the "detoxers". One of the females that was in the detox at the same time as me was having a fit because on of the speakers at the meeting had been one of her old "dates". She referred to him as Blow J*b Bob.

Not just anyone can attend a meeting at a detox. You have to be approved and "they" have to be sure about who everyone is etc, because they don't want anyone coming in that is going to speak and trigger anyone or let someone in that will bring drugs in for the patients/inmates. (Oh, btw-it is fairly easy to get drugs into a detox...it is harder to find someone with such low moral virtue that they would agree to do it. But they are out there - there is always dirt bags willing to help you bury yourself.)

The girl that was having the fit was a total head case but in her defense she had every right to freak out. If this guy "Blow J*b Bob" was who she said he was, then his being at a NA meeting at a detox was so wrong in a million ways. Regardless if he was in recovery or not, if he was purchasing blow j*bs from a girl that was selling herself on the street then he was knowingly taking advantage of her in her drug addicted situation. Well, even saying it that way doesn't get my message across because most men KNOW they are preying on unstable/vulnerable women but someone in recovery - especially someone that goes to meetings to act as a support system for these type of females/people was committing even more of a social injustice than the ordinary predator.

Ironic twist that isn't so ironic: I knew this guy, "Blow J*b Bob" (now referred to as Bob) - he was actually a daily customer at the coffee shop I worked at. He had full on grey (more salt than pepper) hair, wore the typical flannel work jacket and had a beer belly. At this time when I was in detox for the very first time I had just stopped working there (coffee shop) and had yet to really commit myself to a life a prostitution and all the other bells and whistles that go along with that. So I knew this Bob guy, not by name, but I knew his face and I didn't believe this girl at the detox that was saying he was a purchaser of hummers from ladies of the night. I mentioned she was a head case and she did appear very flaky so I took nothing of what she said for truth or fact.

Bob recognized me at the meeting and came up to me and said some encouraging yet lovingly meaningless words after the meeting had ended. I ended up leaving the facility a few days later. I ran into Bob at the Safeway on Commercial and Broadway a month or so later. He said he was on his way to a meeting and asked if I wanted to come. I was totally gassed on crystal meth at the time and thought there was nothing I would like to do more than go to an NA meeting. So we went, we even had coffee after - I never mentioned the incident about the girl from detox. He gave me his number in case I ever wanted to do another meeting and that was that.

Next time I saw him (which may not be the same as the next time he saw me) he pulled over to the side of the road when I was (not so) inconspicuously working Cordova and Dunlevy. He pulled up in his pimp'n' silver Aerostar (gives me a rush when I give extra details - thinking that these people may get outed). He pulled up and as he had a girl already in the front seat, I jumped in the back. (I will not use her name because she was a nice girl and it is never our fault is it??)

I jumped in and he pretended think that I was just waiting for the bus, listened to my bullsh*t sob story and then gave me twenty bucks. Somewhere during the conversation between the 3 of us he told me that "she" (the girl in the front) was his "blow j*b buddy". BARF - ugh. I was thinking that I was glad I wasn't her - glad that he and I knew each other from real life otherwise he may think about doing that with me. (It was always creepier to be doing dates with someone that I knew from "real life" - unless they were hot/super awesome/super cool/hip etc., of course - then it would feel powerful knowing that they were paying ME for sex and the rest of the world saw them in a different way...) When I think about it now - he obviously gave me that twenty bucks as sort of a layaway type thing. I would know that he had money and he knew that I needed that money. And now, since he had told me - I was aware that he had "blow j*b buddies" (his phrase).

So the flaky weirdo from Vancouver detox hadn't been that flaky after all.

Obviously one doesn't have to be a genius to figure out that eventually I was one of the girls on Bob's roster of hummer giving females but I can't even express to you how different one guy can be from the next. Bob was low down on the decency scale when it comes to men that buy sex from sick females. He enjoyed taking forever to finish - he KNEW that we (the girls) hated what was going on but he didn't even care - he had total power and he knew it. He especially knew because he was in recovery. He told me all sorts of stories about when he was a crack head and how he used to sell dope and get people/girls/crack heads to do such degrading things for even a little bit of dope. At the time the stories made me laugh because he was such a prick back in his day but he played the role of converted drug addicted in the "program" (NA/AA) so well that I sort of forgave him. Except when it came to doing dates with him. He was awful to do dates with. I am talking like hour long hummers here...awful awful awful. He was totally aware that he was torturing you - but didn't give a sh*t.

He would always come around when you were super hurting or (rarely) he would come and get you and treat you really nice. I even spent one New Year's Eve with him - he bought me a bunch of heroin and cocaine and just hung out with me while I did it. Of course the next day when I was all f*cking sick I had to give him the damn blow j*b.

I heard** that he ended up getting messed up on crack again but I never believed it (maybe I should have - I had been wrong about him initially). It was probably true - I don't know how that could have happened though. He never asked me for any dope or made like he was even interested in it. I wasn't about to share either.

There really was a guy that went by the name "Blow Job Bob" and he was a total scum bag. One of the worst and a disgrace to the NA panel.

**You must know by now that when I use the word "heard" as in I "heard" what had happened to such and such individual- that I am not claiming that there is any truth to this that I had "heard"...I am relaying a rumor - fact or fiction, who cares? Not me.