We argued back and forth for a while until he tired of arguing with me, so by way of punishing me for my disobedience and insolence he decided not to shag me at all. I pulled out my book and read over Patrick’s snoring and the sound of semi-trailers passing just outside the bedroom door.
When I woke up he was already dressed in casual clothes and heading out, and I was worried that he was going to leave without paying me, so I quickly asked him what time he was anticipating we’d be back in Perth that afternoon. I could tell he was still pissed off about the previous evening so I thought I would turn on the charm and try to win him over one last time, for the sake of $1500. He took the bait, and started to remove his jacket, but the moment I turned my cheek to avoid the kiss, he was back to his hostile self again. Grabbing his jacket, he stormed out the door.
After three hours I got a bit nosey, and decided to investigate his overnight bag. There was nothing in it except the clothes he’d had on from the previous evening. Out of sheer boredom, I wandered about the hotel room tidying up, making beds and hanging towels, which is when I found his gold Rolex beside the shower under a towel. I quickly put his watch in his overnight bag and turned on the TV.
At ten thirty the maid came to clean the room. She was most startled to find me there—Patrick had already checked out and returned to the city.
I was livid! I had not brought any money with me to purchase a ticket home and the bus drivers only accepted cash. My Visa did not allow for cash withdrawals and being Sunday, the bus office was closed. So it was with great confidence that I grabbed my new Rolex and my handbag and hitchhiked my way home.
Patrick eventually turned up to retrieve his Rolex, to which I feigned ignorance. I did, however, insist that he owed me $1500 and bus fare. In the end, $2000 sparked my memory. Not bad for a $10,000 watch.
39
Bad Girl Junkie—$40
Competing with the junkies and tourist visa Asian and Russian sex workers was a nightmare. They charged so little they made our rates seem over the top. I recall one particular working girl who charged $40 for ‘short time sex’—approximately ten minutes. I became aware of her via one of my receptionists, who had contacted me desperate for a job, or rather, desperate to escape the employ of Mona.
Mona was a fascinating character: she was stunning—beyond stunning, she was supermodel material. She had an engineering degree with honours, and was halfway through her medical degree when she decided to drop out for a bit. Her father held a very esteemed position in the community with a long and rich Western Australian history. But Mona was apparently bored with the easy life and craved something else. So she pursued a career in the sex industry, to support her taste for heroin. She boldly advertised her model appearance, French and Greek but finished her ad with: ‘Full service $40.’ Which was shocking, considering that even the street girls charged $80. What she didn’t advertise, due to legal reasons, was that she also provided natural services.
I could not believe that clients would be so stupid as to frequent someone who took such blatant risks, but I was wrong. Mona did not take appointments, but rather gave out her address to every caller, then it was first in, best dressed. There were no sessions over thirty minutes, if you were still going after twenty minutes, you were kicked out. Starting rate was $40, French was an extra $50, Greek was an extra $50, and natural service was an extra $50. By ten am there would be fifteen men either in her lounge room, in the kitchen or on the front porch, waiting.
According to my receptionist, only half the clients chose to wear condoms for the service. Mona was so rushed that she didn’t even bother getting dressed, she would just ask for the next guy be sent in while she showered. Needles were sprinkled all over the home in plain sight. By the end of each day she had pocketed over $2000, much of which went straight on her habit.
The worst story I heard about Mona was of the day her partner died of a suspected overdose. Apparently, Mona dragged him into another room so she could continue to work until she had enough cash to buy her drugs for the day, then she called the ambulance and took the rest of the day off.
My concern was not for the profiteering Mona but for all the clients who seemed prepared to go swimming in shark-infested waters with five dead tunas strapped to their body. Especially knowing that over fifty per cent of our clients were married or in a committed relationship. There seemed no end to the clients’ selfishness.
40
Singapore