His car was the same color as my sclera, yellow.

I knew this guy, this young man..I think he was like 20 when I was about 27. Anyways, he was always cruising for chicks at night. I always noticed him because he drove this old corolla that was an almost florescent canary yellow and looked like it was done w/ house paint. You must be familiar with these sorts of paint jobs, the matte and totally lame kind... Anyways, this is why I noticed him. Of course, as a street worker it is sort of part of the job requirements to spot and remember vehicles, but his was easy.

I would see him out most nights going up and down the alleys, around and around the blocks of the stroll, obviously looking for someone. One time I guess he couldn't find his regular girl because he stopped to talk to me. We conversed, a deal was stuck, and I got in. He was funny though..he asked me all sorts of questions about what I would let HIM do to me. This does happen, guys wanted to pleasure the girl (which is kind of harsh because some girls are less than hygienic at the best of times - not to say I was like that. I had enough people I could count on for a shower and the Army and Navy is really good at selling things like underwear for like a dollar..so really there is no excuse for being nasty) - but more often then not, it is all about them, the buyers. This guy asking me if he could do stuff that wasn't degrading or anything, it wasn't like he wanted to piss on me or something (would you believe you that lots of guys pick up girls so the girl will pee on them? Even in them?), he just wanted to do various intimate things to me. I am not going to say what these things are but I am sure you can imagine.. think of the standard things a guy does to a girl when he wants to get her off (or hopes she will). I said sure..I will do those things..for money...and so I got in the car. Everything has it's price.

His name was All Yee. He was Chinese, but didn't really look it, he looked more half Italian and half Chinese and was sort of geeky as well as a little chubby. He was not at all creepy or anything like that, just lonely maybe. The type of guy that never really had girlfriends and suffer the consequences of society being so hung up on appearances. We hit it off right away and even after the transaction was completed we hung out for a while and talked.

A few nights later he was patrolling the 'hood again and spotted me in an alley. He pulled up to talk to me and me, not wanting him to feel obligated to pick me up for a date, I told him hi and that he can still go look for whoever else he wanted and if he decided that I was what he wanted, he could just come find me back in the alley. I did this sometimes..because as I have said, a million times, even though it is prostitution you still need good business sense, which includes "non-pressure sales". I also had an ulterior motive at this point which was my pocket full of dope that I was itching to get into, immediately. Of course, he came back. They always do...

So, this began our acquaintance. He lived in the core of china town, within walking distance of the red zone and when night came he would wait until his Mum went to bed and then would leave, get in the car and cruise.

Like I said he was sort of chubby and geeky. But as I was saying a few paragraphs before, you may think that all guys that pick up prostitutes are totally hurtin', disgusting individuals but that isn't so. I mean, of course there ARE men like that but lots of my previous "clients" were hot and lots of them are like Al. Sort of socially retarded in a sense...or maybe just unpopular back in high school, etc. So when he picked me up, we would hang out. It wasn't just money-sex-take me back. It was more like he wanted to hang out with me and understood that in order for me TO hang out, I would need certain provisions (dope). He wanted to do a date too, but it was sort of different. Maybe it is hard to imagine having someone that you have sex with and it really doesn't change anything between you, but if you have ever sold yourself for sex you would understand that you become desensitized and sex eventually has no meaning, ie. sex with strangers or whatever. To ME it was never really sexual, it was a job. And it seems that I still may be suffering the residuals of this personality "adaptation" that was necessary to do what I did.

Let's move on. Sorry, I get sidetracked with the details, I need to focus.

So, over time..Al developed a fixation on me, a big one. A lot of these guys are not used to women paying attention to them and they mistake what is happening (our working "relationship") for something that is other than business. He wasn't overly possessive (right away) and he knew I worked the street and would come find me some nights or I would call him super late..I would work, get my dope, and then we would go to Stanley Park. eventually we would both fall asleep in our seats. I just want to mention too though, I would often wake up early and get out to use the washroom and there would be crack all over my seat. If I was really tired, which I almost always was, I would load up my pipe with the intention of smoking it and then would do the nod and the piece would fall out of the pipe and me, totally unaware would find it in the morning, even after I had thought that I had smoked it all. It was awesome.

Sometimes, though, the pieces would drop on the floor or elsewhere and I wouldn't see them. So, on occasion I would be out of dope when I was with Al and he would pull out theses little chunks for me that I had dropped at some point and surprise me with them. It was almost romantic, like when I guy goes to the store to buy his girlfriend tampons. Well, maybe it was nothing like that, but it was sweet that he saved them for me for I was in need. Crack and jonesing isn't very romantic but one finds meaning in whatever situation..and this was one of those situations.

Al would sometimes let me sleep in his car on nights when he stayed home. Like I said, he lived right in the danger zone so it was convenient for me. It was sort of creepy though, he didn't have tinted windows and super late at night anyone could come up to the car and demand something or whatever, as if it was my vehicle. I didn't often sleep in his car but sometimes I was so f*cking tired that I couldn't even work, and even knowing that I would wake up with no dope and sick as f*ck, I had to crash.

So, this one night, I was in his car with no dope and sort of sketching out at how late it was and how unsafe I was in his car, but he had gotten me this cell phone (this was when he was getting a little too into me..at the time he worked at a cell phone store and used his 5 fingered discount to get the phone and the minutes on the phone) and so that was a minor comfort.

I started raiding and searching the car for anything dope-ish that I could get high from. All I could find was weed in his ashtray. Now, I hadn't smoked weed in a super long time but I used to be heavy into the ganja and knew my way around a joint. So, at a loss, I rolled one and smoked it. Then I was wasted. Not good wasted either. Weed can be fun but not when you are already paranoid and feel super vulnerable and all that.

A few minutes after the joint, who knows how long, my eyes started to play tricks on me. He lived in the projects of Chinatown and like most social housing, the main residences were set up around a courtyard. Al always parked his car on the side of the road, at the start of a path that led into the courtyard, which led him to his home. From the angle I was at in the car, I could see the path when it went down a few stairs and the columns on each side of the entrance. In between them it was black, as in absence of light. Black, but with a minimum amount of light from street lamps providing a small amount of shadow to be present.

Here I am, wasted on the mad cheeba, staring at the space between the columns, thinking I see something..thinking I don't, and then finally realizing that I was, in fact, looking at something but because it was so dark, my eyes had taken a while to adjust.

What I saw was the shadow or silhouette of a man, at the bottom step, wearing what appeared to be a trench coat with a hat on his head. He was about 20 ft from me. I could see from his movements and his silhouette that he was jerking off like crazy. Jerking off and staring right at me.

It was one of the scariest things that happened to be down there. May sound weird considering my job was all about sex and money and men, but those times I was consciously consenting to what was going to take place, it's a totally different thing when you have no idea you are being watched. On top of that, it isn't really a normal thing for a guy to go out late at night and spot a girl in a car and then whip out his piece and start going for sh*t masturbation style. Maybe you understand what I saying, maybe you don't, but it was scary. If some guy is going to be doing this..who knows what else he was up for. All that was separating us was a few feet and the glass in car window. I was terrified. I panicked and even though Al had asked me to be casual in the car and not attract attention (since he lived there and his neighbors new his car) I opened the door (I was in passenger seat), screamed at this guy, telling him to "F*CK OFF" while honking the horn at the same time. His response was "oh, sorry" and then he disappeared into the dark. He really did say that, that he was sorry. Weird, sorry as if he bumped into me on the sky train or something.

For some reason, things like this only happen right after you reach the point of being totally inebriated, never when you are just casually hanging out.

I was spazzing and ended up calling Al a million times on my cell phone, finally waking him up, then told him what happened and he eventually came outside to comfort a crying and terrified and even violated me. He then fell asleep in the driver's seat in his pajamas and everything. I can't remember if I even stayed in the car or took off.

I knew Al for quite a few months after this and then he disappeared. I was sort of worried for my own selfish reasons and also because he was my friend, in a sense. Then one random day after I had not seen him a couple of weeks, I checked my cell phone voice mail (from a pay phone my cell phone had disappeared by this point), and there was message from him. All it said was he would be away for awhile and that he had done something really stupid and couldn't get into the details.

About 3 months goes by and he shows up again..same guy but different car. He told me that he had been in jail ( he no prior convictions) because he had tried to rob a convenience store while under the influence of crystal meth. Al smoked the odd joint but was in no way a drug user. He claimed that he had smoked a joint that had been secretly laced with the crystal and then wigged out. He said he remembered being outside the store but that was it. He ended up being charged with robbery and with some charge related to possessing a firearm. But the thing is, he said the gun he had wasn't real, it was a squirt gun that he had painted with black spray paint on the sidewalk right outside the store. That was the worst part, I thought. Sure, robbery is bad but then not even having a real gun?? Come on, Al. It is like when people downtown get busted selling bunk dope. Even though the dope may be made of wax or just pure baking powder..they still get charged. Before this indecent he had gotten fired from his job at the cell shop for stealing. I had no idea until after the fact, that he had been fired, and I guess he was stealing money to keep me happy. That made me feel pretty bad, I knew I was having a bad influence on him but by then it was out of my hands.

One time when I still had my cell phone he called me 44 times in one hour because I was not picking up the phone. That is a little obsessive. After he got out of jail he started being a dope runner, driving around delivering for a dial a dope operation. Then I became just a junkie I guess, or my spell wore off, because things were different.

The last thing I remember about Al was when I met his mother. It was mid afternoon and I was having a shower when his Mum came home from work. Al was sort of afraid of his mum and often times I would hear her screaming at him in Chinese, through his cell phone, when we were hanging out.

Anyways, I was there, so was she, so after I got dressed Al had to introduce us. I shook her hand politely. Then went to gather my things and wait by the door. I could hear her and Al having at it and he kept telling her to speak in English. Then at one point he told her that I spoke Chinese and understood everything she was saying. Laugh. I already knew that his mum didn't like me but not that you would know it by the way she looked at me all sweet and sh*t.

Later, after we had left Al told me that what she had been saying to me, was that ever since she had shook my hand during our formal introduction, her arm had felt weird. She then said that she could feel poison creeping up her arm. I am not really too sure about the Chinese culture but Al said his mother had certain beliefs and superstitions.

She was very perceptive.

Scammin' ROUND TWO

What I was planning on doing here was just tell you some of the things that the ladies of the night downtown in my hood did to get money from guys for nothing. Hereafter referred to as scammin' or ripped off. Got it?

I can't possibly number them one through ten (actually there will be only about 5 or 6 in my list) in the sense that no one is better than the other. They will be listed in no particular order.

I am condoning any of these methods, they are all very unsafe and not recommended to be tried by anyone, prostitute or no. Honesty is the best policy when selling oneself and in regards to securing your "safety" just blow the guy and get the money that way. Anyone who chooses to follow through and go against this recommendation is doing so at their own risk.

1. Simply put, the girl just doesn't do the date. She gets in the car, he thinks all is a go..but when they get to the place to do the date she pulls out some mace or a dirty needle or even some rusty box cutter and tells the guy that he can either give her the money or...it will be..bad. They don't want to be stabbed with an HIV tainted needle (which is of course what is threatened when the needle is presented) and they don't want to be maced (who does) and I know from experience that being stabbed with any kind of dirty utensil can give you a serious infection* (see below).

2. The girl tells the guy some bullsh*t story like her boyfriend is watching and has his license plate number or that if he doesn't hand over the money she will scream and call rape or something and then the cops will show up and well, you know. Again, that would be bad. I was told by one date that the first time he picked up a prostitute she told him that she was an undercover cop and to give her all his money. And he did. Idiot, I can't imagine HOW a drug infested, homeless, street urchin could be a police officer but as I have mentioned before, these guys are sooo paranoid about getting busted that anything can shake them.

Some guys are smarter than others though and call the girl's bluff and take her right to the police station and she gets out running once they get there.

3. Some girls have an elaborate scheme worked out that requires more than one player. I heard from one dope dealer that he paired up with this girl and when she was in the predetermined date spot he would pull up in a Crown Victoria (this is the standard vehicle type cops and undercover cops drive), right behind them, and the girl would make like it was the fuzz. The "date" would then take off and she would get out with the $$. It is customary to get the money first, before anything sexual happens between the girl and her date, which is why this particular scenario worked out well for them. He helped her because once she had the $$ he knew she would be buying the dope from him, etc. The circle of life, Main and Hastings style. This one in particular make me laugh because of the car. Brilliant.

Also, what happened to me was once I was in a van w/ one of my "boyfriends" and we were in the back smoking crack and I guess this guy walking by had heard us in there. He knocks on the window and tells us that he is going to call the cops because he knows what we are doing. BUT unbeknown to HIM it wasn't a date/sex selling situation so even if he did call the cops all we were doing was smoking crack and well, his threats didn't bother us.

My BF yelled through the door that I was his girlfriend blahblahblah, and this guy still pretended to call the cops on his bogus cell phone that probably didn't even work. Eventually he walked away, but my point is, this is another way of pulling a fast one on some unsuspecting guy. Get in the car, make like you will do the date - and then have your "boyfriend" or some concerned "citizen" bang on the vehicle and this of course makes the guys freak and the girl gets the $$ without doing the date. Of course, because it is more than her pulling this off the money has to be shared.

4. Another easy one I have heard about is acting weird. She gets in the car and seems all normal and not wigged out, but then once the deal is struck she pretends to be all tweaky by twitching and pretending to look for crack on the floor or something like that. Usually the guy wants her out of the car so bad that he just GIVES her the money so then she will go.

5. A variation on #4 is to tell the guy you have a condom but then when you get there, mysteriously..you can't find it. Some guys (NOT ALL) will not do it without a condom. She has already gotten the money so she wins. You never give the money back once you have it in your hands. I did once..I gave back some but not all, but that story is for another day. An it was in no way a similar situation to this one.

5. Do dope in the car. I personally never did this unless it was already established that it was okay to do so. It is so retarded how most guys that pick up girls out there seem to pretend to themselves that we are not buying drugs with our money. Why else would we be doing it? They exploit and prey on us because of our desperation..but they don't like to address it head on by acknowledging that we get high. So, if some girl pulls out her crack pipe and lights up - he spazzes and the date is over.

6. Once the guy has paid and then pulls down his pants (this can just be pulled off in a vehicle, I guess) the girl can simply jump out and run...what is buddy gonna do? He has to pull 'em up before he starts the car and all that. OR another modification is to get him w/ his trousers down and then demand his wallet coupled with some sort of threat to his well being or to his all important appendage.

For some reason this makes me think of Vince the Shamwow/Slapchop guy and the mugshot I saw online of him after he had gotten into a fight w/ a prostitute. How he tells it she bit his tongue, so he kicked her ass but who knows if that is actually what happened.. maybe she threatened with outing him cause he is a celebrity in the infomercial world or maybe he is just an agro prick that was jacked up on coke. He SEEMS (from I have seen of him on TV)

like someone that is into coke. This actually is a perfect example of how ridiculous the movie "Pretty Woman" is. Julia Roberts is all "no kissing, it's too personal" and in real life girls are like "I will kiss you or whatever the f*ck else you want me to do if the price is right".

There is a million more ways to rip guys off, I am sure, but these are the ones that come to my mind at this moment. Sometimes I feel like I am writing a how-to book, but as you must know, these scams do not always end with the girls getting the money - sometimes she can end up bruised, battered or just with no money.

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Footnote* One time I cut myself with my crack pipe. This isn't an uncommon occurrence. You can buy a crack pipe from a store (yes, have you ever seen those little glass tubes at the corner store that have those pretty little multicolored roses in them?? Well, that is a crack pipe not an expression of love) or you can buy a pipe from specific people in the dope zone that only sell pipes as a way to support their habit. This is always more convenient because it already has the brillo in it and all that. BUT ANYWAYS...you can buy these pipes and sometimes you need to break them to make them shorter or you may have to break after you have them awhile because they crack and get jagged edges.

So, I used to always break my pipes with my fingers. Just grab a sharp edge and yank on it and then use the cement as a file and try to smooth the edges. I did this all the time..but one time I did this and it was bad. I cut myself, which raised no alarm, BUT after three hours I felt like I had a serious sliver in my left pointing finger. Okay fine, no big deal...but the pain got worse and worse and worse and eventually my finger was three times the normal size and was red as beet. It was so amazingly painful. Up until that time it was the most pain I had experienced in my life.

At the time I was staying at my parents house but would still manage to get away sometimes which is when I had done the crack pipe buying and breaking. It was back at the house that it became unbearable. I tried running it under cold water (it was burning hot) and that didn't help and even the slightest breeze on it made me scream. My step mum took me to the walk in clinic in Coquitlam and the stupid doctor there ended up sending me to get X-rays. I had to tell him I was a junkie as it was pretty important to the story, but once he knew this, he didn't believe me when I told him I hadn't sprained my finger. But of course, my word counts for nothing because I am just a junkie, I guess. I spent 4 wasted hours writhing in agony waiting 4 hours for my x-rays to be taken.

We had to go all the way downtown to a clinic doctor there who knew right away what it was..he gave me a 'script and that was that. It took 4 weeks to heal and if you look close you can still see the skin's stretch marks on my finger from when it was swollen. A normal person would also be given a prescription for pain meds but not for us dope addicts..no, no, no. We had to tough it out.

Once I had an abscess tooth and had to call 911 for an ambulance for MYSELF and at the hospital the doctors only gave me medication for the tooth nothing for the pain. Well, they gave me dilaudid 2mg. Great, the smallest dosage known to man and they did nothing to alleviate my pain. My face was like 3 times its normal size on one size but it didn't matter. I shouldn't have told them I was an addict but of course they knew. They picked me up from Carnegie (central location for people such as myself, addicts and all that). Also, another indicator was the fact that any normal person would have gone to the doctor way sooner...but not a junkie. No way, we wait until we feel like we were going to f*cking die from the pain..THEN we will get it checked out. I knew a few people that lost limbs that way, due to abscesses that were treated too late.

Yeah, those stupid dilaudid twos....sigh.. I couldn't even break 'em down and shoot them. It would have been a waste of a new rig.

Something else: I searched Google images for the picture of the dilaudid 2mg pills and (this just struck me as amusing) I ended up on the website for the DEA.

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Scammin' PART ONE

I didn't often rip guys off. It wasn't good business sense. That must sound retarded considering I am talking about street level sex work but I am serious. A girl comes to rely on repeat customers as any other business relies on their customers. I can say from my perspective as a consumer I know that I prefer to avoid getting ripped off when I am shopping or utilizing some service. It is just common sense. I have ripped the odd guy off though and (usually) it was never because I wanted to. It was always because of some idiot guy that I was having a totally insignificant and doomed relationship with while I was working the street. I would never normally participate in such dangerous activities such as ripping off dates (dangerous activities besides the obvious having sex with strange men that I don't know, in deserted places). If you rip off the wrong guy he can get really pissed off and come back with a baseball bat or come back with some of his buddies and next thing you know..you have had your ass kicked. Hard. Usually though the "average" guy is a pussy and so scared that he is going to get busted by cops/wifey he just drives off.

Back to my story: As I said I would never rip anyone off for no reason but you must know how guys are sometimes...Have you ever heard about a guy that meets his girlfriend at a strip club..she is a dancer there...blah blah blah...and then after a while he suddenly starts having a problem with her working there and wants her to stop? This is what is like being in any kind of "relationship" with a date. Eventually they pressure you to stop (but you need money so you can't) and then before long you are lying to them and saying you DID rip the guys off and it gets worse until ties are severed (finally). Then, of course, some other stupid guy picks you up, wants to own you and the cycle begins again. These relationships DO have their benefits, you know. Clean clothes, food, a place to sleep and shower.

I was involved with this guy and he was at the point where he wouldn't let me go downtown on my own. He wanted to wait for me and see what cars I got into and then follow the cars to make sure I wasn't screwing these guys and that I was actually doing what I said I was doing (ripping 'em off). Now, any prostitutes out there know that no guy in his right mind is going to do a date with a girl when there is another vehicle following. It was so frustrating for me. It was so much easier to just to the effin' date and get it over with and get the money that way. I didn't have a problem with it, it was just work to me. To a girl that does this daily, it is just work. You may think "why not just tell the guy to piss off?" but sometimes that can be messy. If this person you are "seeing" has spent alot of money on you they get bitter and can come after you later.

This one night I get picked up by this guy in a big, grey van. One of those old-school vans from the 70's/80's. It was big, had carpeted interior, small tinted windows..it was totally cheesy and probably soundproof, making it easy for the guy that is driving it to murder me without anyone hearing me scream. This didn't throw me off as I saw it as an easy date because we could just do it in the van. But it wasn't going to be easy though, since I had Idiot following me.

First, the guy asks me for a hummer. Fine, I say. Then he asks, if he pays me more will I get naked. Yes, I tell him. So, we go to some location near the Nanaimo and Dundas industrial area, pull over and park at the side of the road. He had not noticed that we were followed. He gives me my money first and then suddenly he notices the headlights approaching slowly, meanwhile I am trying to figure out how to pull this off. Up until this point in my "career" I had maybe ripped off a regular date for $20 once in a while when I was sick. Never had I taken (stolen) that much money (much more than $20) from a date, especially a date I didn't know. On top of it being a totally stupid thing to do, I forgot to mention that this was "one of those guys". The kind that looked like he could come back and seriously injure me with a good old fashioned what for (what does that even mean?). I did not want to do what I was about to do.

He gave me the money and immediately after that the headlights appear and there is a truck beside us. I say "oh God, that is my stupid boyfriend. Just a second" and I jump out and head over to "chat" with my boyfriend.

Let me try to explain the fortunate position of the vehicles at this point. We (me and date) were parked on the right side of the road. BF was coming towards us when we spotted him and he had pulled up beside the van, in the middle of the road. My date had already shut off his vehicle before BF pulled up and couldn't just start it up again and drive off like any date would normally have done. He was blocked in. This was pure luck.

I jumped out knowing buddy (date) would expect me to just walk up to the driver's side window to talk to my BF. Instead of doing that I ran to the passenger side and got in the truck. BF's truck is already running and so buddy has to get back in the driver's seat, get his keys, start the van AND turn around on this small street and come after us. He does this but by then we are already on on way.

I was sooo not cool with what had just happened. Now I had to worry about this dude catching up with us or coming back for his money sometime. I was stressing about all the other horrible scenarios that could play out. On top of that I wasn't ready to stop making money that night. BUT since I had ripped this guy off there was no way I would be able to go back out because for sure he would be looking for me.

We are off, driving fast to get away and then something happens. The worst thing that could happen. The truck runs out of gas. BF is all like "Dee borrowed the truck and told me he put in $14!!" (broken gas gauge) and I am all like "I'm dead". We only got like a minute away from buddy in the grey van. But in a total fluke BF manages to get behind some business and parks. Now, I have to give him some of MY money so he can go get gas while I wait in the truck. Alone. It was terrifying.

Not to be anti-climactic but the guy I ripped off never found us. BF came back with the gas and then was all like "let's go downtown and get your dope then" after which we would go back to his house so I could get high ( I will say he didn't use the dope I bought with my money. He used gibb). HE had the easy part, I was the one that had a reason to panic. I was the one that had to get out to score. I was the one that had to go work for my heroin to avoid sickness.

That is one thing about f*cking people over down there. You cannot hide forever, eventually everyone shows up again. I never did anything as reckless as that again.

YOU: Really?

ME: No, not really.

Adultery, Terrorism and Convenience Shopping

Today I have decided to share with you all the different places men take prostitutes to do dates (well not all...I am human and I was on drugs so I can't possibly remember them all). As well as a heart warming tale of unrequited sexual desire and desecration of the workplace.

I would imagine that a common misconception would be that dates are done in cars..alleyways...hotel rooms and the like. This is what I thought before - well, I actually never really thought about it before I did it, but that is of no importance. Of course, dates do happen in those places but places like that can be risky at times and it is always more preferable to be indoors without a chance of being busted. A hotel room, is the exception since it is pretty safe but some hotels won't let girls (who they think may be) prostitutes in.

Some men like to utilize the access that they are granted to various places because of their jobs. I am talking about real estate agents that have taken me to the houses they are showing when they know the homeowner will be out, corner stores, empty warehouses, taxis (that one I am sure is no surprise), car shops, even the storage facilities/units, a boat sales (yacht) lot, office buildings after hours, a fishing boat..the list is endless. It is amazing how willing these men are to violating their work place. I even had a bus driver pick me up. hetook me down Hastings, he parked on the side of the street with his hazards on and we did the date on the bus. Of course, it wasn't always just sex they want from you, you know..those public servants can get pretty freaky.

Which leads me to my next topic, I have mentioned before that it was not out of the ordinary to find myself doing a date with an individual I had know in my previous (pre-working the street) life. One of these people was a guy that worked at a store that used I to frequent in East Van when I lived sort of near Commercial and 33rd. This guy's name was Mohammad ..and it was any normal owner/customer relationship...of course, I always knew he had a boner for me..but it is sort of understandable. His wife worked with him and seemed very sweet but super religious, wore the full head cover, etc. Maybe he had a thing for white girls because he always used to flirt with me.

You must know what I am getting at here. Eventually he found me roaming the streets during the witching hour some random night dowtown and asked me if I need a ride. I used to get some pleasure out of watching these men (ones that I already knew from before) trying to find out if I was "working" without actually asking me straight out. Eventually I would tell them what they wanted to know but it was still amusing watching them squirm.

Anyways, we hung out for a while and it came to the surface that yes, I was in fact totally f*cked on the down and yes, I was working the street to support my habit. His lucky day. We did the date and life went on. We actually saw each other quite often because he worked late at night. He would get me and we would go to his store. The same store he owned with his wife. He even took me to his house and we did the date in his bed, the same bed he shared with her (this makes me think of the Gary Ridgeway and how he murdered all those prostitutes in the bed he shared with his wife and she had no idea that the bed she was sleeping in had been a murder scene over and over...). When we went to his house his wife was in whatever country she was from, taking their newborn son to see her family. (Oh, I just thought I would mention that when I asked him what he named his son he reluctantly told me "Osama" and we, mostly me, had a good laugh because it was right before 9/11 that his son was born..). He had rented these sick pornos too. Not that I wasn't used to that but he was so into them and he told me all about how is wife was so uptight and would only do things one way (sexually). Usually though, it was at his store that we did the dates. If you can imagine how surreal it was to have been a patron and then be on the other side of the counter and the owner is paying you for sexual favours.

(I can't help but think..who had the upper hand me or the wife? I guess the wife because they weren't all f*cked up and had a house and stability and all that. Maybe? I am not sure what I am getting at by asking that question except that I can tell you this for sure..sometimes I felt that I knew alot more about these guys than their wives did. From my experience the relationship between myself and most men that would pick me up was that we had no reason to lie to each other about much. They could tell me things they couldn't tell their wives.)

SO IN CLOSING

If you plan on selling your home consider what your agent may be doing when they claim to be showing the house, always sanitize your hands after using public transit, and think about this post the next time you go to the store and there is a sign on the door that says "back in 5 minutes".

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.