Chapter 3: The Way the Profession Works

When they were seated at the table and their drinks before them, the other girl said, “My name’s Brandy. You’re pretty enough to attract the johns, but you gotta understand how the game works. The pros in this town all have a keeper, sort of like a manager. He takes a percentage of our pay – shit, a big cut – but he also provides protection and help if we need it. Each boss has a territory. His girls don’t go outside that and he don’t like freelancers coming in.”

As she talked, her eyes kept roving around the lounge. Nobody coming in avoided her scrutiny. Whether she was just looking for potential customers or something else, Colleen was not sure.

“You being a beginner and all, I guess you don’t know about these things.”

“But how am I supposed to find... johns? Don’t girls... like us, have to go to the bars?” Colleen asked.

“Sure, and this is one of the better ones. Look, there are three classes of pros. The lowest are the streetwalkers. They go to the cheap bars, hang around on street corners, and take their chances. Some have a pimp, some don’t.

“The second group are those who frequent the better bars and work under the protection of a manager. Of course, that manager often works for someone higher up, but I don’t ask about those things. Isn’t healthy to, you see.

“The highest class are those who do their tricks by appointment only. They are the cream of the crop and make big bucks. But you gotta to be real class to work that side of the street, if you will excuse a pun. You know, centerfold body and looks and all.”

“I guess I’m out of my league, sort of,” Colleen admitted. “Thank you for telling me about this.”

Brandy sipped some of the whiskey, looking Colleen over as she did.

“You’re not bad looking. Good body, too. You want, I can ask Matt if he needs another girl. He won’t put you on the better bars at first, but after you learn the tricks of the trade – yes, I know that’s a pun – you’ll work out fine.”

“I don’t know. I’m not really... I mean, I don’t want to... Oh, hell, it’s complicated.”

Brandy lifted one eyebrow and asked, “Then why are you doing this?”

“I need money.”

“Don’t we all! But I’ll bet you haven’t made much yet. How many johns you turned the trick on?”

“One.”

“One? You really are a beginner. Well, honey, this ain’t the best profession in the world but it ain’t too bad either. Trouble is, you got maybe ten good years, and then you start to look not so good compared to the young things. Know what I mean?”

“I can guess.”

“Look, honey, one of the things you learn in this profession is to read people. A john might say one thing, but you read his eyes and body language and those are saying something else. I’d say that, right now, you ain’t really wanting to be a hooker. Am I right?”

“I guess. It’s just that I need the money.”

“Why?”

Colleen frowned. “It’s... Well, it’s sort of personal.”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. But I hope it ain’t ’cause you got a boyfriend who wants to pimp you out. You seem too intelligent for that. Never could understand the girls who peddle their asses all over town just to give the money over to some lazy guy ’cause they think they love him.” She snorted. “Love! A stupid idea.”

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” Colleen admitted. “I need the money because my mother is sick and needs an operation.”

For a few long seconds, Brandy was silent. “Honey, that’s the best excuse I ever heard. You’re something else. Hope your mom appreciates what you’re doing for her.”

“My mother does not know what I’m doing.”

“Probably better that way. Well, you think about it. I wouldn’t mind working some doubles with you. I like your bod, honey.”

If learning the business rules were not enough, now Colleen was confused by this prostitute coming on to her. Yet, in some strange way, it did not offend her. She also found Brandy attractive, a feeling that had surfaced only occasionally in her life. Now it was stronger than ever, confusing her with the attraction and repulsion at the same time. She had always been taught that professional prostitutes were immoral criminals who indulged in sinful acts and probably used drugs. But this Brandy was not like that at all. Colleen had the feeling that they could be friends – and maybe more.

“I don’t know...” she began, and then could not find the right words to express her feelings. Maybe it was because she did not understand her feelings herself.

Brandy reached over and patted her hand. “Maybe someday. But right now you should be considering either talking to Matt or getting out of his territory.”

Taking a big drink of her wine, Colleen sighed. “I wish this weren’t so complicated. It seemed simple when I thought of it. Just go out, find a man, and let him screw you for the money he will give you. But... Well, to tell the truth, I’m afraid of having sex with many men. You don’t know what disease you might pick up.”

“Honey, you take precautions about that.”

“I guess I’m not really cut out for this profession.”

Again a handful of moments passed while Brandy stared hard at Colleen. Finally, she said, “Look, I know of a way that you could make a lot of money and have to worry about only one man.”

“Huh? What’s that?”

“It takes a special type of woman. One who doesn’t mind kinky sex.”

“Kinky?”

“And who would be willing to stay with that man for a year at least.”

“Is the money really that good?” asked Colleen, getting back to the reason she was hooking in the first place.

“It can be. Look, see those two guys over at the end of the bar? The guys with suits, looking like lawyers?”

“Yeah.”

“Those are two of Matt’s boys. I don’t think that you should let them see you here.”

“I’ll go.”

“Not yet. Listen to me. Memorize this phone number.” She gave Colleen a number and repeated it twice. “Call that number and ask for Mistress Diane. Tell her you wish to talk with her and mention my name. Then go to see her. Tell her your problem. She may have an answer for you.

“Oh, crap, here comes Ronald.”

“Hello, Brandy,” said the ruggedly handsome man in a blue suit. “Who’s your friend?”

The question was asked casually but there was no way to miss that it was serious.

“She’s just a friend, Ron.”

“She’s not one of Matt’s approved.”

“Yes, I know. She’s just leaving.”

Colleen slid out of the booth and stood before the man. He gave her a once over with an expert’s apprising eyes. It was obvious he knew exactly why she had come to that lounge.

Colleen edged around the man. As she was turning to leave, he told her, “I don’t want to see you in here again. Got that?”

Colleen did not reply but got out of the bar, fighting the urge to run all the way.