Page 9 of Forgive Me Father: For I Have Sinned

With sixty bucks in my pocket, I left without a word to anyone, wondering if I’d made the right choice as I headed home for the night. Whether or not it was right, it was all I had and paid better than anything else I’d done up until that point. When I got home, I burst through the door, locking it behind me and ran straight to the toilet and vomited again. Once my stomach was empty, I brushed my teeth. Vigorously scrubbing my tongue to the point of making it raw and jumped in the shower to wash away the proverbial sins before falling into bed, crying myself to sleep. Between that and losing my friends, I’d reached the end of my rope.

When I woke the next afternoon, I showered again before returning to another night of willingly accepting loads in exchange for compensation from disgusting, closeted men who went home to their wives after they were done with me. To top it off, it seemed my embarrassment wasn’t alone. Each time I ran into another “employee” I noticed they were staring at the ground, doing all they could to avoid making eye contact with anyoneincluding me. There were a couple of thin, frail guys who appeared to be seriously fucked up or high, but that wasn’t for me to judge. Everyone has their own demons to battle, and I was no different. It was obvious to me though no friendships or bonds would be formed under that roof.

The first couple of weeks left me feeling…well, left me with very little self-respect. I started seeing a steady flow of some of the same men coming through on a regular basis. I even heard some of them ask the bartender if I was working that night before being directed to the curtain I was behind. It started to feel like a game show,which of us will you find behind curtain number three?

Some became increasingly more brazen, inviting me to their hotel rooms and promising that I’d have the time of my life while with them. Yeah, right. Like being fucked by random dudes who couldn’t even see their shoes over their big ass bellies and were passing through town, would even begin to equate to the time of my life. Once I started doing the math, the time with my ass in the air would cut the time spent down on my knees in half. Literally and figuratively. If I managed myself outside of the club, I could charge more, and instead of dealing with multiple assholes in one night, I could deal with one. Granted, I’d be giving up my ass for it, but it would be with whom I chose. Not someone who was told my curtain was empty and the profits wouldn’t be shared.

They knew better than to ask inside the club, yet some still did. Each was warned by Doug as they exited our curtains. He heard everything, fucking perv watched and listened, and I wouldn’t be surprised to find him jacking off on the other side of the glass throughout the night. One of my regulars, Mitch found a way to get my attention without grabbing Doug’s. When he handed me my money at the end of his time, I put it in my pocket without a second glance. I went to close out when my shift was over and found his business card in between the two twenties he’d given me. On the back, he’d written down his cell number. Sliding it back in my pocket, I walked out to the bar area, paid Doug and headed out into the cold, damp night.

No friends, no family, no real jobnever gave me reason to get a cell phone. But the landlord had one. The next day after I returned from running errands, I went to pay my rent and asked if I could use it.

“What for?” he all but growled.

“I got asked to call about a job someone had,” I kinda sort of lied, not one hundred percent sure what Mitch wanted, but I was pretty sure it equated to my being ass up and face down.

“Yeah right. Here,” he shoved it in my hand, “you have two minutes, and I’ll be standing over there so don’t even think about taking off with it.” He scowled before walking over to the window in his apartment and glaring back at me.

I dialed the number he’d written down, second guessing myself for doing so and held my breath while the call connected. After the second ring, he answered. “Mitch Baker.”

“Um, Mitch? This is ah, this is Jamie from the club.”

“Jamie, is this your number? Can I call you back?”

“Um no, I don’t have a phone. I’m borrowing my landlord’s.” I felt like a fool telling him that, but I didn’t want him to call this number back.

“Hold on.” I could hear shuffling and muted voices in the background before he came back on the line a couple of seconds later. “Sorry about that, I was in a meeting.”

“Oh sorry, do you need to go?” I felt so stupid, what was I doing?

“No, it’s alright. Look, can you meet me at the diner by Pike’s around ten o’clock tonight?” He seemed nervous asking me that, which kinda threw me off.

“Um, yeah, I guess.”

“Okay, I’ll explain more then.” He hung up, leaving me stunned in the aftermath of this less than informative conversation. I handed the phone back and thanked him before returning to my apartment and sat there wondering what in the hell I’d just agreed to.

I spent the rest of the night washing my laundry in the bathtub, hanging it up over the shower curtain rod to dry like always but that odd conversation never strayed far from my mind. The only positive to it was that the diner was a neutral meeting place, located in a busy area of town. So, if I needed to get away for any reason, there were numerous routes I could take home and potentially lose him if the need arose. With the decision made to meet him, I dressed in the nicest clothes I had which consisted of a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved Henley and headed out.

When I got there, Mitch was already waiting and waved to me when our eyes met as I walked up to the hostess station. He looked just as nervous as I felt.

“Hi,” he said, as I neared his table. “I wasn’t sure you’d come.”

“That makes two of us,” I said, gazing around the diner. When nothing seemed out of the norm, whatever that may have been, basically when I wasn’t spooked by anything, I took a seat in the booth across from him.

“Do you want something to eat?” he asked, flagging down the waitress.

“Um, I’ll just have a glass of water. Thanks,” I told her. He already had a cup of coffee in front of him, which she topped off before leaving to get my drink.

“I’m sure you’re wondering why I asked you to meet me here tonight,” he looked at me, and I nodded, wanting him to get on with whatever this was about. “I have a proposition for you, Jamie.”

Here we go. “A proposition?” I repeated, sounding like a parrot.

“Yes,” he said, waiting for the waitress to be out of earshot. “I’m in town every other week for business. I don’t know if you’re under contract at the club or what the rules are,” he led, waiting for me to respond.

“No contracts but whatever I do there I have to split with management.”

“I’m not sure if that makes me happy or sad. Seems kinda fucked up that you do all the work and they get half,” I shrugged, staring into the glass of water in front of me. Feeling like less of a human than I ever had. “Look, I’ll be honest with you. I hate going into that place, but I have needs, and well, they’re known for taking care of them. No questions asked.”A line I was all too familiar with.

“Yeah, and?” I really wanted him to get on with this so I could go home and wallow in self-pity for feeling like a worthless slut for working at such a seedy place.

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