The other shift manager at Felicity’s was Ken, yin to Louise’s yang. He was always polite and kind and always made a point of finding something nice to say about each and every one of us on any given night. He still did his job admirably but without hurting anyone’s feelings: ‘Ilka, why don’t you touch up that chin with a bit of powder, there’s a good girl?’ While Louise would say, ‘Cover that hideous zit before you go out to greet our clients!’ Ken would offer the girls a mint as they were leaving the ladies’ lounge, whereas Louise would just be officiously blunt: ‘Christ, you stink of cigarettes, sort that breath out before you breathe on our customers.’ The different approaches were completely obvious: Ken saw all the punters as our clients, but Louise saw them as Felicity’s clients.
As each evening started with the lady parade to room one and so forth, Ken would stand at the door, saying, ‘Nice earrings, Abby. Smoking new dress, Barbi. Cindy, what is that enchanting perfume?’ The most Louise could muster was a simplistic, ‘Presentable!’
All our condoms and lubricant were supplied by the management and were placed in bowls in the dressing room. In those days there was a one-size-fits-all policy. I had never seen small, medium or large like there is today, but often different companies would promote their new varieties at Felicity’s before they were sold in chemists, or more to the point, before they were sold to the regular public. Mind you, I never recall being asked for an opinion on any particular brand or flavour. So one week we had all ribbed, next week extra lubricated, then passionfruit flavour. We were never given any choice, Louise or Ken ordered the condoms, and we had to use what was provided.
One week, Louise had selected an entirely new condom for our use: fluorescent. We were all very amused and couldn’t wait to see if they really did glow in the dark. Most of us work with our eyes closed so I don’t recall any hilarious anecdotes being spun in the ladies’ lounge over the evening.
But everyone was giggling, gossiping and smirking the following evening when about six clients came in furious and taking out their wrath on Louise. Apparently the condoms left a phosphorescent coating on the gentlemen’s penises, so when they all returned home from ‘a late night at the office’ with a glowing prick, there was hell to pay! Time and time again throughout the evening we heard Louse being abused by last night’s clients, who were demanding compensation: ‘Who’s going to pay for my fucking divorce lawyer?’ Or there were demands for their hotel accommodation to be paid for by Felicity’s, until the missus calmed down.
Instead of ‘I am so sorry, sir’, we could hear, ‘Well, who tied you down and forced you to have sex outside of your marriage?’
In the ladies’ lounge, we were in stiches and loving seeing Louise on the other side of a tirade for a change. We even tried to rub it in her face: ‘God, what’s all the hoopla going on out there? Sounds really nasty.’
‘None of your fucking business, throw out all the fluoro condoms, now!’
19
Behind The Red Door
No matter where you work, there will always be busy days and quiet days. Quiet days can be financially stressful, but they are often very entertaining and informative. While we wait for the clients to knock on the door and seek our services, the girls all corral in the ladies’ lounge. There was a TV there and an ironing board, a coffee table and a little kitchenette. At the far end was the mirrored dressing room where we got ready. It was always awash with a supply of cosmetics of every brand imaginable. The girls had a great camaraderie for each other, so it was commonplace to leave your cosmetics on the table safe in the knowledge that it would still be there upon your return.
Girls always took turns making coffee or tea for each other, and shared magazines and groomed one another in our spare time. The only job the girls had outside of servicing clients was to fold towels, which had to be done in a very specific way and placed on the shelf round side out. Even now I still feel obliged to fold my towels in the same way.
Technically we were not allowed to talk to each other about personal matters or about clients, but everyone ignored that rule unless Louise was around. Even if we did know someone’s real name we never called them by it on the premises, which was a major faux pas. However we did often share our real world lives as to do otherwise would be unnatural. It takes superhuman strength not to give away titbits of yourself.