STORY 90223

STORY 90223

What’s the difference between a wife and a prostitute? One’s contract and the other’s ‘pay as you go’.

And you know what Steve? I think that was the gag that set me off on this nightmare. I’m not laying anything on you. Loose talk costs lives though. We’ve not spoken for I don’t know how long. But that was about the last thing you said to me. That gag. And now Facebook reunites us. Are we too old for Facebook? Think I might be. By a decade or two

You asked me ‘how things were going’? You must have meant ‘are you getting laid yet?’ or ‘have you got a new boyfriend?’, or am I just projecting?

But by last summer I was sick of all this being alone in my ivory tower bullshit. I got sex at sauna’s but I was bored of the lucky dip. I never knew what might be bobbing round in the cum scummed jacussi. If anything. I wanted something steady, something a little bit regular.

I don’t know why but true love just hadn’t walked through my door yet. We’re talking about last summer mind. Things have changed. Or rather they had changed. But now they’ve changed back to not having changed again. Or at least that’s what I’m worried about. Well actually everything’s changed and it’s all much worse than before. But I’m running away from myself here.

It’s last summer. Which, if you remember Steve, consisted of about six days of sun and enough cloud… I can’t think of an aphorism. But anyway. You remember. Cloudy day after day. And I just started thinking to myself,

‘Enough!’

Maybe I shouldn’t be telling you this. Especially on Facebook. They own about everything we think don’t they?

The point is it occurred to me that I could simply find love ‘pay as you go’. Get a nice lad out of Boyz and run up a tab with him. Twice a month. More if I had the money. A nice steady rent boy. Good plan I hear you say.

But at first it went well. Morizio. Done time in Milan for drug dealing which left him a bit bitter. But in September he got pneumonia and they put him under heavy sedation for seven weeks. I know Steve. It sounds a bit… I dunno. But basically they keep you asleep for weeks on end till you’ve recovered. Less of a cure and more just switching you off and then switching you back on again. If it works for computers why not us?

So anyhow. Morizio had been switched off so I didn’t have my ‘pay as you go’. What to do? Buy another of course. What else. I was following a natural logic, except I hadn’t thought it quite through.

This one was more pushy. This ‘pay as you go’. He started buzzing me in the middle of the night and asking me for sex. Or rather he wanted money for which he’d bend over any which way for. Sorry Steve. I promised not to be graphic.

The trouble was this. The more I said ‘no’ the more Dobby would start slashing prices. It was like DFS in January. What would you have done Steve? £20 doesn’t buy much leather but if you’re faced with a desperate rent boy at four in the morning. Take it from me. That first night: I didn’t shit straight for a week. I got quite a bang for my buck as they say. But you didn’t want to know that.

So I’m starting to make sure I have a spare twenty quid tucked away under my pillow, being kind hearted. I just can’t say ‘no’ to someone in need. It’s different if they’re cold and hungry and living rough. But that’s living in London for you. The moral maze. But I’m getting off the plot here.

The point is I’ve got Dobby. He’s Russian or Baltic or something. Lots of J’s and other low use consonants all pushed together. He said he didn’t mind being Dobby. Don’t think he’s read Rowling. Anyhow. I’ve got him popping up like some strung out jack in the box at all hours when what should happen but Sleeping Beauty reawakens. This is the beginning of November. I’m thinking to myself:

‘I’ve got Dobby now I don’t need Sleeping Beauty.’

To be honest with you Steve, I’d forgotten how beautiful Sleeping Beauty was. Suddenly I could see Dobby with fresh eyes. Drug addiction close up lacks a certain glamour. It’s like the venire coming off a cheap kitchen.

Desperation might make you affordable but worthless with it. Is that harsh? Suddenly I despised him.

So I’ve got Dobby and then, ding dang dong here’s Morizio again. Another ‘pay as you go’. And suddenly it hits me: That’s how it is. You only have one contract but when it comes to ‘pay as you go’ the sky is the fucking limit. Dozens of them why not? Hundreds and thousands. Well. Maybe not the sprinkles but there is no real limit. And what’s more, it doesn’t seem to matter how often you say ‘no, no, no’. They just… you just can’t turn them off or send them away. They are always there. Just coming round uninvited to my doorknob. What did the neighbours think?

In the end I had, not only both of them turning up willy nilly, when they needed a bed or money more like. But also their friends and friends of friends. I was like a brothel but all upside down.

If I don’t find £800 by the weekend things could get very sticky. Which is not to say. I mean I’m not saying. This isn’t a begging letter you understand Steve. I’m just saying I’m in a bit of a scrape. In fact: I’m up to my fucking neck in scrape.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m having sex till it’s coming out of my arsehole, but to be honest with you. I don’t need it.

Come Christmas I had well and truly fallen for Morizio. I’ve not seen him for six weeks. He upped his rates. New Years Eve he had cleaned me out.

Apart from that everything’s fine. How about you?