Two Sides of The Trade

Last week, a good friend of mine asked me if I was on duty. It was my day off from work, and I was just surfing the net at home, so I told him I was just at home doing nothing important. He asked me if I wanted to go out, he was having problems with his work--- at a crossroad, so to speak. Plus, his love life, which seemed cloyingly warm and sunny a few weeks back, suddenly fell apart. He wanted to talk, maybe over a few rounds of beer. As we were driving around looking for a place to hang out, we ended up at the part of the city where there were so called health clubs and massage parlors left and right. He then asked me if I was in the mood for something that wasn't so wholesome. I immediately knew what he was talking about. Although I've never been inside one of those places, I'm aware that most of those establishments are just fronts for prostitution. Health club my ass. I know there are extra services rendered after a so-so massage. It's been a while since I last got laid, and since I've never been inside one of those places, I figured--- what the heck. I'd chalk one up for experience.

We went inside the first health club. The interiors were classy enough, you'd really think it was a legitimate spa. Along with a couple of other men, we were led towards a room with a viewing window--- not much different from those viewing rooms you see on cop shows on TV, where suspects line up and you'd be asked to identify the culprit. When the curtains were drawn, a number of women, all smiles and fully made up, wearing clothing that left very little to the imagination, each one with a number on the upper portions of their clothing, were seated side by side. Unlike the other men in the room, I didn't feel excitement. Yeah, I was quite horny as we were led to the viewing room, but when the curtains were drawn, I felt a sudden wave of sadness and guilt come over me. I'm not a newbie in the flesh trade--- heck, I'm not what you can call a beginner, since I've been engaging in the very risky practice of picking up random women (who are obviously in the flesh trade) in the streets occasionally, for several years now. But the experience in the "health club" was very different. For one thing, it wasn't a one on one transaction, wherein you immediately get down to business because terms were already understood. A lot of people were involved that time. There was the manager of the place, along with usherettes giving out recommendations. There were also other patrons in the room, choosing the right girl to render services to them. I've never seen women treated that way, where they were lined up as commodities, like meat or vegetables that you buy in the market. Life must be really difficult for those women to resort to such work. They were all wearing smiles, trying to look as enticing as possible to would be customers that they can't see through the one way mirror--- but those smiles were obviously not genuine. Those smiles can't hide the desperation and sadness you see in their eyes. they were obviously forced by circumstances into a job that they didn't want to be doing in the first place. I know exactly how they are feeling. My friend didn't find anyone he liked, so we left. I immediately felt a sense of relief when we got out of the building.

I was no longer in the mood, but obviously my friend wasn't. He had a lot of problems, and if that was the way to relieve some of the stress that he was feeling, then I should be there to support him. We stopped by three other health clubs before we found girls that we found attractive. We were led to separate rooms, and I waited for the girl I picked--- some half Asian- half Australian, who was referred to as Number 34. When she entered the room, the smile was gone, all that I saw in her face were her real emotions. Mostly apathy, with a hint of misery, as if saying "let's just get this done with immediately so that we can move on..." It was my first time, so I asked questions. She didn't seem surprised, saying I looked too young to be frequenting places like that--- most of her customers were dirty old men, although there's the occasional 21 year old like me (LOL!) who's looking for his first sexual experience. I almost laughed. I played innocent, and I asked her if all of them gave sexual services, and if so, doesn't that make them prostitutes? She admitted that pointblank--- what else would they be doing there? She's not really a masseuse---- but if I wanted a massage she could give me one. If I didn't want her other services it would have been fine with her, she'll just leave and I could stay in the room until my time was up. Obviously she was in no mood to talk about her life, which I assume to be riddled with anecdotes on poverty based on the sporadic answers she was giving me. I really wasn't in the mood for sex that time--- her indifference clearly wasn't helping either. i told her to just give me a massage, then we'll talk about where we'll go from there.

That was the most. pathetic. massage. ever. At least she was truthful from the very start--- she really wasn't a masseuse. I told her to give me a hard massage since I'm just tickled when being given a soft massage. She was basically just rubbing ointment all over me, with no pressure at all. Jeez, we weren't at a beach and I wasn't asking her to rub sunblock on me. When I told her to put some pressure, I felt as if she was deliberately tickling me. Apparently she found my stifled laughter weird since she gave me a certain look. Great, now the mood was definitely a hundred percent gone. Afterwards, she asked me if I wanted anything else. Seeing that I still had 30 minutes to spare, I asked her if she really wanted to do those extra services, because her face clearly shows that she doesn't want to... and I wouldn't force anyone to do anything they don't want. It would be okay for me to just take a nap. She said that although a part of her doesn't want to, another part of her wants to because she really needs the money. The amount I paid on the front desk doesn't go to her, but for the extra services, all the money I pay her goes directly to her, she doesn't have to give a part of it to the establishment. Although the mood was lost, my sense of charity wasn't. And although she didn't say it outright, I felt that she was hoping that I would say yes.

And so we did it. It wasn't great, and although her stinky pussy (which was one of the stinkiest my olfactory nerves have ever been exposed to) nearly ruined it, i would say it was satisfactory. And I finally saw a genuine smile as I gave her the money. I had to wait outside for a few minutes since my friend was taking his sweet time. I sat at the couch on the foyer area, and I saw more gentlemen coming in, taking their pick. Once again, I was overcome with pity.

Fast forward three days. My grandmother's health was becoming problematic again. It's bad enough that I'm in a line of work that I don't really want to be in--- but I could treat that as simply WORK. Things that I HAVE to do for MONEY, and thankfully I could isolate work from the other aspects of my life. But to do the same WORK at home where I should be free from the stress of work--- that can really get on my nerves at times, especially since the whole family relies on me, saying I'm the doctor in the family. It doesn't matter if i absolutely detest everything about internal medicine, it doesn't matter if I'm not really an expert in that field and that I might be making the wrong decisions, that I might not be treating her properly... to them, I'm a doctor. period. I should be able to manage her case well. I love my grandmother, but at times like that when her numerous health problems crop up, the pressure I'm feeling get so high, I feel as if I'm going to explode.

I had plans that night, which I obviously had to postpone or maybe cancel since I was the only one at home who can drive her to the hospital in case things turned from bad to worse. Thankfully my dad got home just before midnight and I was able to leave--- of course a bit of scolding came with it, saying I don't care about anyone else but myself yadda yadda yadda.... but I was able to leave! On the way home I decided to drive around since I wasn't sleepy yet. As I turned on one corner--- whoa, what was that? A scantily clad female was smiling at me... although she obviously can't see me through the tinted windows of my car. Ah, now that's the type of flesh trade that I'm accustomed to. I drove away, but then I thought of making another round, and she was still there. I thought I should drive away and just go home, she wasn't even that attractive in the first place. Just when I thought that my rational side had already won, i started thinking with my dick again instead of my head. I made another round and she was no longer there. I said thank God, but then she popped out of nowhere. I drove away again, then drove back. There she was, very plain looking yet somehow inexplicably attractive to my dick, now walking towards my car. I unlocked the door on the passenger's side, said hello, and immediately laid down the terms.

Fast forward 15 minutes. Seedy hotel with the smell of cigarettes and mothballs. Paid at the front desk. Went back to the room. Five minutes and we were done. That was fast. It was a long night and I was beat. I fell asleep. Woke up after an hour. She was no longer there. That dirty average looking slut was no longer there. Still a bit dazed as I went to the bathroom... what I saw as I went back to the bed completely woke me up. It shook me back to my senses. My bag was open. I checked my bag and I was relieved. I laughed out loud when I saw that my ipod, camera, and PSP where still beneath my gym clothes. The bitch wasn't smart enough to check. My wallet was still at the dresser--- only spare change were there, of course she wouldn't take it. Then I remembered another prized possession. I checked my bag again, on the side pocket this time, and as I expected--- it was gone. My cellphone was gone! That good for nothing bitch! I told myself I must be dreaming, but it was very, very real! Yeah, it was a crappy phone, but it would take a month's salary to replace that phone... and I'm not actually swimming in cash these days! There were also some private pictures and videos in there, some with sentimental value that I haven't made back up copies of! That's what I get for thinking with my dick! i swear if I see that good for nothing asshole on the streets I would run her over! If I bump into her anytime in the future I would completely beat her up! I know times are hard and some people would resort to stealing when the opportunity arises---- but I gave her my trust! I hate it when people betray my trust!If she just told me she needed the money and if she gave me a valid reason I would have given her more out of pity! But how could I give these poor people pity when they betray the trust that we give them! I hope to see her again in the near future so that I could STRANGLE her! Fuckin' bitch! Good for nothing filthy whore!!!!! >:O


*****

If there's one good thing that came out of this---- I would think thrice before picking up some random slut in the streets again. And hey, if I really have to nitpick and look for something positive that came out of this situation--- I've managed to get rid of the crappy phone I was complaining about a few weeks ago.