This post is going to be about the first time I was ripped off by a date. This was not an isolated incident, but it wasn't a common occurrence. I guess it is a right of passage for a street prostitute, like when the Hell's Angels get their colours....
I was still relatively new to the downtown stroll when it happened.. What I mean is, I was fresh and still making good money, able to turn down dates if they didn't want to pay a certain amount, and I looked good, not all f**ked up. I was naive in the sense that I still believed that the men that were picking me up were nice, that they respected me in a way, and that they thought of me as a real person. Not true, so I found out. Not all guys are scum, but most are.
It was a summer night, warm, pleasant, no jacket required. I had begun my "new job" in the summer, as was custom for most girls that were new to working. It is mush easier to work when the weather is nice, and the reality that soon enough you will be working through Christmas and New Year's, in snow and rain hasn't sunken in yet. More girls always show up in the summer months, from what I noticed anyways.
It was a typical night, as I said, and I was on Cordova. There was a bus stop right across from Oppenheimer Park and I used to plant myself there to make it seem like I was waiting for the bus, when I in actuality I was "working". I thought people I knew might drive by and recognize me, and at this point I still cared what people thought. That didn't last long by the way, there was more things important than preserving my dignity. Like heroin.
This two tone, blue Astro-van had pulled over for me and we spoke through the open passenger window. We were talking for quite a few minutes and so eventually he just told me to jump in while we talked. He was a really nice man, not much older than me. He told me he was married and that his wife wouldn't perform oral sex on him, or anything beyond the basic sexual necessities that are mandatory for reproduction. This is why he was out looking for a girl. Now, my philosophy at this point was that I would basically agree to most things if the price was right, and would just try to do my very best at bringing things to the end point quicker than he expected, without my having to do any of the other stuff that he may have requested. This was pretty easy to do, especially if it was some new guy that was so hard up because his wife never has sex with him or whatever reason. Sometimes the guy will feel like he didn't get his moneys worth because it would be over so fast, but that wasn't my problem, it was his.
He was fine with using the condom I said I had had, and he agreed to pay me $XX.
We started driving to a place where he would feel comfortable. He wanted to find a place where he could relax and not worry about getting caught. We were so deep in "real" conversation that I didn't realize we had been driving for quite some time, and we were pretty much in New Westminister. It didn't really concern me that we were that far from where we had started because I had already made money that night, and it was nice out, I was going to be up all night anyways, so WTF. Really, a girl can make money ANYWHERE, location is not important. Even if I jumped out there, in New West after the date, I was fine with it. I was a very...resourceful girl.
Eventually, we arrived at some deserted industrial building and parked in the lot. We had discussed the price, but we had had such intense real person conversation (or so I stupidly thought) and I had concluded that he was a really nice guy, and seemed not at all creepy (which they all are in the end), and I am embarassed to admit this, but I didnt ask him for the money right away. I was so sure he would pay me, that I wasn't concerned about it. I had done that before with regulars of mine, and had always been paid for my services. In retrospect, obviously, I see the err of my ways. Another mistake was allowing him to take me to this secluded place, with no one around in an area I wasn't very familiar with.
We did the date. By the time it was over, it has been quite a while. Between the drive, the inital conversation and then time spent doing the date, it was a good hour and a half. Way longer than most girls could stand. Like I said though, I already HAD money, so it wasn't like I needed to do this date. I wasn't dope sick, so time wasn't an issue.
The date went fine, it was slightly humiliating when I think back, only because of what happened in the end. I had gone over and above the usual "money, sex (date), take me back" progression of things. Also, and I am going to be graphic for a minute, he had asked me at the last minute if he could ejaculate on my face. Not in my mouth, but on me, just the same. And for all those ladies out there, you will know, this isn't an unheard of request, but it is very intimate, and it isn't something that one would casually do with just anyone. Well, maybe they would, but I never made a habit of it. I forgot to mention, when the date began he had changed his mind about the condom, and it has been so long I can't recall what my response was, but I am pretty sure I believed him when he said he was clean. I made many mistakes that night. I made mistake after mistake.
After the date, we got organized, got dressed and started back. I hadn't asked for the money still, because I knew I had done my job and I had earned every cent of that $XX (it is even embarrassing to admit what I would do for that for $XX amount of money, but I try to be as straight up as possible here, and tell people what really goes on- we were always underpaid, and we accepted it). I asked him to take me to a gas station so I could buy cigarettes and he agreed. I ran into the store to buy them, with the money I already had, leaving my bag with my whole life in it, in his van.
And you probably have guessed by now, that when I came out, he was gone. It took me a few minutes to realize what had happened. I thought maybe he was turning around, or getting gas or something. Then it started to sink in. I honestly felt like I was punched in the stomach. Hard. Like how anyone would feel if they realized they had been ripped off, scammed, etc. Except I had also prostituted myself to this man, and had made all the necessary mistakes for this to happen. Of course he left, why would he stay? I was nothing. It wasn't as if ripping me off like that made him feel bad. He was probably stoked because he got away without paying.
In his haste to get away, he didn't even throw my bag out of his van. So, there I was at this gas station, its like 1am and I have only my wallet (thank God, at least I had the money I had already made) and my cigarettes. No sweater (it was the best sweater too, I still miss it, even though I would have lost it a million times over through my time on the street. Wow, I miss that sweater. The loss of money was one thing, but my favorite sweater? Come on, is there no decency in the world?). I had no bag, no pipe, no needles, no nothing (which was funny cause I told him I wasn't a junkie, when I totally was, so hopefully he went through the bag and saw the IV gear in there, and had a minor anxiety attack. I would like to think that maybe he freaked out and thought he got the HIV from me- I didn't have the HIV, but he didn't know that).
I ended up calling a friend of mine, a friend I mentioned in one of my earliest posts, and he came and got me. I was bawling my eyes out, and I had to make up some bullsh*t story about what had happened. I told him that I met this guy in the hostel I was staying in, and we went out for dinner. I told him that this guy said he would pay for his half of the meal with his interac card, but when it was time to cough it up, he bailed. Hardly worth bawling over, but it wasn't like I wanted to admit what really happened, plus this person didn't know yet what I was actually up to most days. Or maybe he did, he was a scumbag after all. He thought I was a fugitive from my abusive relationship, but that never stopped him from trying to get with me. He probably tried his best to seduce me that night as well. Of course, I would have obliged, he was still a good source for money and rides, after all.
Rule No. 1: ALWAYS GET THE MONEY FIRST.
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