A Note From The Writer

Welcome to the archived blog posts (when I was a wee blogger, wet behind the ears and not aware of spell check and various other gramatical structures!) I have kept the writings unedited or reworked as I am in the process of doing a massive rewrite of my entire life, many posts I have yet to publish and this blog was merely writing practise for the massive job of sorting out my emotions whilst retelling the story as cuttingly real and dramatic as the real memory was.. some of the posts contained are raw, streaming emotion.. many posts although painful to write, had a tremendously cathartic effect - cheaper than therapy one would say. I welcome new and old readers to keep in touch via my author email (sensualexplorersatHotmaildotcom) if you have any questions or wish to share the feelings and emotions raised by my work.
I will announce the publish date and title whenever it happens and I have been clean now for three years. It is possible.
But it is never easy. It's a lifelong journey, I will always be an addict, but I must stay one step ahead of myself and protect all that can be ruined in the eternal struggle to be
at ease once again, comfortable in this skin.
Thank you for being a part of my story.

Monday, September 20, 2004

It Started With A Kiss

Final Copy* sorry guys I said I would put that and I forgot.
Where is my comments kids?? Is there anybody out there.
I miss you.
Time spent as an escort, figure largely in my recollection of life spent addicted to Heroin.
Before I decided I would be an escort , there was a time , when it was the first time. I did have employ previously ,as an adminstration clerk, but with the drugs taking over and my performance gradually becoming increasingly unsatisfactory - I was fired for the first time in my life.

When I wasn't sure if I could. I wasn't sure if I would.
Sell something I had never shared before unless I cared for someone. Unless I knew that person. Unless I had feelings for that person. They were the rules of life?
Some rules are meant to be broken, I suppose.

Although, I call this piece The Chinese Laundry and I am not making specific racial judgements throughout this piece, just saying why it was, how I felt and of course, how it happened. I will say this will be a three part series, at the moment.

Let us begin shall we.

The Chinese Laundry
Act One

The Ex and I are sitting on the matress with a litany of bills and fines covering the bed like a paper quilt. As far as I could see, we were well and truly fucked. I am making some calculations on the back of a chinese menu, The Ex is smoking a joint and playing with my hair in an almost lucid state. He traces a loveheart on the delicate expanse of my inner thigh, but I am too involved with the job of accountant to comment. But I notice.

I think Garbage Number One Crush is playing on the cd player, that we just got back from The Pawn Shop. I feel better about it, as it was a present from family and little things like that mean things to girls. Even if we are Junkies.
We were trying. Today was pay day, the one blissful day a fortnight that we both recieved a government allowance. Yet in spite of this, it was barely enough to support us - we were going to need much, much more money- if we could continue this habit of habit. Already the money had gone. It wasn't even 2 o'clock in the afternoon. Everything was falling apart.

I made The Ex go and buy me a newspaper with the last of the "free money". I had to get us work, or we would lose the unit (not to mention our credit ratings from defaulting on the lease and rent payments) Already the rent was a "couple of weeks" behind.
I had managed to speak to the landlord and convince her that we just needed a chance, just a little bit of compassion. Somehow she saw that we were trying, and relented on the eviction notice. She would regret that later, I suppose.
I am sorry. Again.

The Ex returns with the local rag and I am then looking through the classifieds for a job when, one in particular, catches my eye. It seems easy enough. I circled the following with the guts of a ballpoint pen.

Top Quality Escorts Required
Earn $1000 p.w!
Exclusive Clientele
No Sex
Asian Speaking an advantage.

Then a phone number.

Well, I thought - this is better than the streets. I mean, isn't this 'agency thing' supposed to be safe and the "right" way to go about "things".
I mean as everyone says...
What Do You Have To Lose?
The Ex and I decided to go down to the phone box and call. It answered on the second ring.

"Hello" A woman's voice. Had a slight edge of something I could not place. Was it sleaze?
"Hi , I am -(shit what am I doing?) I am, ( get the paper out) calling about the advertisement in the paper - about the escort position. I chewed my nails and waited. Silence firstly.
"Ok, have you done this before? And what is your name?" Rustling of papers in the background and muffled noises, like a hand over the mouthpiece, midst conversation.
"I consider myself pretty open to this and I am great with people (wtf, I sound like a moron) and I speak japanese?" I ended with a questioning note rather than an affirmative tone.
"Japanese?" Intrest piqued in her tone.
"Yes" I said it more determined now. I needed this chance. Sell yourself now or forever hold your peace. The irony.
More rustling and then finally I was meeting her in two hours ( man these guys work fast!) at the local Mcdonalds. Ok , so far - so good.
"Ok - I will see you at -" I was cut off abruptly.
The phone went dead. Ok then.
Not one for pleasantries, I noted.

The Interview

I am running late to the "interview" due to my dealer not having the gear/heroin cut in time. I nearly did not go at all, but I had some sleepers to get me over the edge. The shot would be waiting for me when I got home. Besides, it would work better for me , if I wasn't pinned.

So here I am , at this Mc Donalds, dressed quite smartly and drinking coffee from a styrofoam cup , the rim of which is smeared with scarlet lipstick. I was picking at the edges, when I was overshadowed by a lady, accompanied by The Shogun. (Enter Stage)

In the next thirty seconds, we summised each other.

The Players

The Madame

Thirtyish. Caucasian. Brassy blonde hair with a sprinkling of grey. Italian looking. Almond shaped eyes with deep hazelnut centres. I searched for warmth and only found professional detachment and something else, maybe greed ? A slight smattering of freckles and poor dentistry. Five foot seven , dripping in gold and precious gems , a wreath of gold chain pooling around her ample decolletage. Dressed sharp in a pressed suit and brand new leather pumps. I did not trust her. It only takes the human mind five seconds to summize this.
How clever.

The Shogun

Mid forties. Asian. Handsome. Almond shaped eyes. Lithe and fit form. With a slight of movement to shake my hand , and I could see his well honed muscles rippled under his black cotton in response to the firm grip I offered. Dressed in tailored slacks, informal T shirt and the latest sport sneakers, he came across as trendy and well maintained. His nails were manicured and his hair was cut well. His cologne smelt familiar and clean. CK One was all the rage back then. He moved with deliberate purpose and spoke just as well. He also had a ponytail about three inches long, which added to his Master Shogun appeal. He was feline and fierce, yet restrained with subtle dignity and decorum. I was suitably impressed.

The Meeting
Suddenly in a moment of rare self conciousness, I wished I had perhaps put more thought into my choice of attire. I looked fine enough but I never knew if I was "good enough".

I did not have many clothes that still fit me, well enough to cover my bones, so I was protruding rather grotesquely from my collarbones and wrists. I looked well scrubbed, but not particularly glamourous. However, I am a pretty girl and I know how to work a situation.
I smiled confidently and opened my palms in a open and appealing manner, gesturing to the seat.
We all got comfortable. As comfortable as this situation allows.
Mostly, they did all the talking, which suited me, I did not have a clue what I was doing anyway.
I knew after seeing The Shogun and the way he looked relieved when he saw I was attractive that I had the job. I also sensed the tables had turned - ever so slightly- an exchange of power from the telephone call to the face to face. I had something they wanted and the air was filled with promises almost immediately. I listened objectively to the proposition.

"You want to travel to Asia ? " She waved a bewjewelled hand into the air as if summoning a makebelieve butler - "Not a problem - we could definately look into that." She leaned in, almost conspiratorily.
"All of our clients are Asian. Very gentle men and VERY clean and carefully screened to boot. Our girls are not expected to do anything dirty. We do not tolerate drugs or theft either. All the girls are really supportive. We will take very good care of you"

The Shogun was not talking, just nodding along sagely - it was obviously the woman's part to do the poaching. I humoured them.
I wonder if this could support our heroin habit ? I did care extensively nor given much thought to fancy yachts or entertaining embassadors. I just wanted to support The Ex and Myself and not have to break into houses.
The Madam explained the benefits, expensive dresses, glamourous dinners, luxury premises, professional security, and then I was not listening to her anymore, just thinking in my own mind.

This may just work. I mean, I am hardly going to want to do this for real. As in - as a career.
Your going to be a whore?? Is that what you are willing to do now?
Man - how times have changed. Shut up. You can do this ! Just think of all the times you won't be sick , it is not that hard for you. If it is, you can stop. You could just stop.

"When can I start ?" Although I already knew the answer. It is always the same.
"Tonight." The Shogun spoke for the first time.

Sounds like a plan to me.

We all shook hands briefly, then I explained where I was living. They would come and collect me and take me to the establishment. This was for security reasons.They seemed ok. They were married and I could tell The Madam's main concern is whether I would screw The Shogun. But rest assured , I never mix business with pleasure. Only when the rates are simply too good to refuse.
The Preparation
The Ex, initally dubious about my encounter with The Madame and The Shogun, tried to talk me out of going to work to do whatever "escort" meant. I managed to cajole him into my way of thinking, quite easily, it is a gift I have. He wasn't happy that I did not know where I was going and that he could not be seen on the premises. He fretted so much when I was away, I was his charge and I was also his lifeline to Heroin, something I knew all too well. I mean it is all very nice and ambitious to have intentions of cleaning up of the junk and getting well, but who would pay the rent in the meantime? Who would pay the debts that had already spiralled out of control? Who would put food on the table ? The Ex was just not bringing in enough money.
God knows we tried.
We both had warrants for petty crimes from our teenage years things like being busted for pot, not a big fine but enough for a few uncomfortable days in jail to pay it off , these days getting closer to the fuzz was a reality we took with our persecution.
Always looking over the shoulder for the law, or for the people who would easily break it and break you without so much as a backward glance. Dog eat Dog. They wouldn't even piss on you if there was not anything in it for them. It broke my heart, for a while.
I was putting on my makeup and my hand was shaking so much, I had to steady my breathing. Try the mascara again silly. Now careful, don't think about it. Oh here we go..
My eyes brimmed with tears.
Have you ever felt the sharp winds of upset on the inhale - when the gush of air created by the sheer magnitude of pain takes you in it's grasp, so much you close your eyes as it takes you further into the darkest place and it's all black and lonely and the only sound is your heart breaking? That is ok, your not alone then - are you?
Then, you blink ..and you tell yourself. Girl, it aint that bad. You tell yourself again.
And you try, so preciously, . to smile through it all.
But you never quite believe it.
I am dressed .I am ready.I am lost.
And as the rain comes down and the street is illumated by lighting, the car is waiting. The Horn calls. It is time to go. I look outside and for a moment, I don't want to go with those strangers. I want to stay and watch television with people I know.
I want to stay with my boyfriend. But this war is not won in a day.
Wiping my tears away and steeling myself , just like I was born to do, I let The Ex walk me to the porch.
I kiss my boyfriend sweetly, my heart banging its nervous fury.
He holds my face and speaks sternly.
" Call me if anything even begins to look suspicious - you understand me ?"
I nod vehemently. I had a decent set of streetsmarts. I felt I had control of this situation, for the time being. How long I would stay in front, was anyone's guess.
" Goodbye " I said.
"I hope this doesn't change things between us " I searched his eyes for affirmation.
"Goodbye" Is all he said and very quietly. I walk towards the car, as that is the only way forward it seems.
With one hand on the car door , I pause for a moment. I turn to look back.
What I look for - I do not know, someone to be calling me back. Someone to tell me - It is not to late to change your mind. Someone, I suppose.
The porch light was out and the door closed.
So rather than be alone with my decisions, I stepped into the car and became a lady - of the night.
Although I kept looking through the rainy window of the backseat and then I saw him.
I saw the Ex run back out onto the street. I saw something that said, ' This isn't worth it'.
But I had already turned the corner.
In more ways than one.


HeroineGirl said...

Yay someone is going to leave a comment.
I am home today and just sitting here waiting for someone to talk to, before I begin part 2.

I am really proud of this post *Chinese Laundry as it has never really been out of my head and down on paper- for my regulars, you should be able to see my blogging style ( heck - writing style I should say) is definately improving ! It is so exciting , and I owe it all to you guys !

You inspire me everyday to inspire you and I love your feedback and I could not do this without you by my side.

(end emmy speech)

kermit said...

Just when you sadden me to the degree that I become a complete and utter misanthrope, you always manage to turn me around and re-instill that belief in humanity as decent creatures. I am sorry life's treated you this way, but I am immensly glad that you were able to overcome it all and look back on the past and make peace with it, without bitterness. If I could only have half your resolve, I'd consider myself accomplished.

HeroineGirl said...

Thanks Kermie :)

What a sweet thing to say, that's what I'm tawking about. It's not all sad though, you should see me today, I have the biggest grin and I feel like the healthiest, happiest and most balanced girl , but I am a woman , so I will probably forget about this tommorow- so I will just come back and read this post and yours and smile again.

Have a GREAT day

Same to all the heroes and heroines
Go out and make someone's day !


( I have had too much coffee )

Dacia said...

I like when you make awful/difficult things beautiful. That's my favorite part.

Anonymous said...

"Have you ever felt the sharp winds of upset on the inhale - when the gush of air created by the sheer magnitude of pain takes you in it's grasp, so much you close your eyes as it takes you further into the darkest place and it's all black and lonely and the only sound is your heart breaking? That is ok, your not alone then - are you?"

I just found your site by accident.

You are a poet HG. I am certain you already know that in your heart. Today is a sad anniversary for me (20 years since my brother killed himself) your words reached me to remind me just how I felt back then.

I will try to read more of you again at some time but thank you for putting such a difficult emotion into words in a way that is life-affirming rather than mere commentary.

Good luck with whatever you choose to do. I suspect that writing will have a great deal to do with your future...

DTG said...

Wow. HG. Oh my god. Wow.

Sorry I can't be more eloquent. Just, holy fuck. Please write more.

Thanks for visiting me by the way. I'm adding you NOW, girlfriend.

DTG xxoo
PussyTalk is here:

Kim said...

You expressed beautifully the feeling of approach and avoidance that comes with becoming a prostitute, the first client and sometimes every client after that.



Anonymous said...

HG...I found you on soberrecovery.com and your writing style absolutely astonished me. Every blog and comment makes me laugh, smile and cry all at the same time. You are a beautiful person and I appreciate every word that comes from that pretty little head of yours. I, too, was willing to do anything for a shot, but like you I overcame those feelings of sickness and sorrow. I am now a much better person. DO NOT regret anything you have gone through. For it makes you who you are today. And the person that you are is wonderful. Thank you for all the wonderful words of wisdom.


Jay said...

Hello...it's Jay again...I've made my own blog and thought you might want to keep your eyes open for it. Check it out. Have only written a dinky little blog though so far. Thanks for your words, once again.

Elly said...

Hey there Neighbor, I finally got on and read a bunch of your blog. I'm enjoying it throughly. You have a great talent for evoking true emotion through your writing. I love it doing this for therapeutic reasons. Even if some things stay in draft form.

I'll be returning some sugar to you.


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