Thursday, 17 March 2016

Pimp Jamie

Alison lights my cigarette as we stand under the plastic looking palm trees, after all these years everything feels a bit surreal under the trees. I decided to tag along for the mere reason because I could. It was a far too many time client of Alison and he had wanted to celebrate his wife's death right at the funeral with a prostitute. It was surely a way to celebrate in class. She fixes the hem of her respectable black dress, which has a huge cut under the black cardigan she's wearing. We are mourning after all. As soon as the first people start heading to their cars with tissues, Alison motions for me to shoo off.

I keep looking at her as she puts on her dark sunglasses, still in her dark dress, a cardigan over it to cover the revealing cut she has for the man to ogle over late on. My mind goes a bit forward as I imagine Alison in the action, surely something I had seen before. Not only once we've had a client who just asked for someone to watch them fuck, when I had just started, but I had fucked Alison herself as well. I tried to push away the contents of our mutual decision to never take it further, as we both seemed to enjoy our job and being 30 and 40 with children, married was something which never appealed to us. But where else would you go from there? That's why we had called it quits post-coital after once when we were drunk and I had wanted to test her out. It would be a lie if I would've said that there was no tension.

I inhaled deeply, nearly up to a cough and decided to drive away after all. I had a date to attend, which Alison would scoff on about later on. Usually we would catch up, if she had a minute before dinner, she would speak of her clients both female and male, while I would speak of anyone who had been my love at this point. Now it was a woman who had no idea of my work, as I told her to let her imagination run wild, which she wasn't too thrilled of, but enjoyed my company. Not to the extent that I had ever wanted, because I only seemed discardable to her, which would make Alison go sour. But we all enjoyed a love gamble. She's go sour telling me that I deserved better and we would drink wine to that, but I'd always go running on the phone call if Kate, the woman would call. I would only grumble at Alison that she was better than Jack who had forced me into strict monogamy to later find out that he's married and to one of our prostitutes.

So it just felt as if everything was against me when it came to love or even trying. I was dreading the date, wondering why was I even going towards it and what was the point of that anyway. I knew what the outcome would be, I knew that Kate would lure me into bed again and then that would be it and she'd ignore her phone for days and leave me high and dry. What was the point of that? I never understood if she'd keep talking to me for so long for a couple of days and then vanish. But then ever day is not like the other. Even for myself, I knew that. I couldn't help but know how I had felt about her and it's not like she was seeing someone else, she was doing something which I never understood, but she'd vanish off the earth's surface. Once I had seen her when she was shopping for books and then clothes, bumping in the same stores into her. She really enjoyed her own company and guess that's where everyone else felt short for her, even if she would nag how lonely she had felt.

We had met because she had found my dog Archie cute and he seemed to have taking a liking of her, sometimes even more than of me. Then we just continued talking, never mentioning what we did for a living, but from her easy schedule I only assumed that she was either a freelancer of sorts (like I was with women's bodies and a couple of men) or simply had an income of money somehow. Maybe she was someone else a few years ago and that's where the money came from. Alison suggested maybe she was someone behind the scenes since we could never find anything on her. I always pictured her as some photographer, since she would take endless photos of me and herself. That could've been it and I hope that I wasn't easy to identify as well.

She didn't show up. It dawned on me how much I was counting on her to show up with her camera and her laughter, that I forgot the possibility that she could've not showed up at all. I felt lost just sitting there alone because when you're single you only notice that everyone else is taken and someone else who is alone feels like an anecdote you can easily ignore. Maybe because you're the joke. That is what it all boils down to, being jealous that other people have it different and somehow better. I had started this whole affair, not Kate, prostitution because I had been friends with another agent. We were old friends, they had started out with drugs and then progressed and it seemed that my guitar would get me nowhere, while selling people's bodies seemed to give much more money. In the end I had given up guitar, only to pick it up sometime and feel this old icky nostalgia of when I had been a person. People don't talk about prostution enough, they either despite it to the core or they prefer not to think of it. There is no middle or any other reaction, some see it as exploitation which can be just like in any other job, while the people who work might see it under a more liberal light.

At the end of the day it becomes a controversial topic, because people shame it far too much, just like people shame sex to a ridiculous extent and sex is not just about the women people enjoy to judge so badly or the men they'd abuse in conversation.

And I ordered more wine, a whole bottle as if it were for two who wanted to forget everything, well with her not being here, I might just erase her memories as well. I tried not to think deep and not check her social media accounts which she was very active on and shared with me proudly, as if to remind me of other ways to miss her instead of reaching her actually.

I was expecting Alison to tell me that she is a photographer indeed on the phone, when she had called and I even hesitated to pick up as Alison's face pinned under myself rushed through my head under the sweet wine. Instead I got a very long silence and heavy breathing, as I could hear other voices and I had only thought that she had surely decided to regain something at a party, but instead she couldn't speak no matter how much I'd tell her.

“Brian's dead.” And my hands go cold. Brian is one of the new call boys, which had somehow gathered quite a list of clients, because of his looks and allowing older men to experience some nirvana state with him. I look around, as if bewildered that someone can overhear me.

“I-I beg your pardon?” I nearly whisper, ducking my head lower and lower until my face is in my hand.

“He's dead. I just walked into the premises-” She rushes to state as I hear her heels against the floor. Something which would arouse far too many customers.

“He wasn't supposed to be there. Today is his day off-” I hurry, as if it will make a difference.

“Day off from life now.” She says and I can hear her tap her fingers against the wall. “I can't call the police, Jamie. It's in the premises. We've got... everything here.”

Alison is shaking. I'm sure she's in Brian's blood, she's such a deer to check a pulse of someone torn to shreds. 


My computer broke down, yeah the one which I've had nearly for six years, so it's impossible to let go, of course still trying to fix it, but it's quite hard considering that now I'm currently without it and using someone else's computer is always a terrible terrible hassle. 

Anyway, technicalities aside. 

I got the idea from a video edit to be very honest. Is the gem which inspired me. So thank you so so much, I can't stop laughing at it days on xD Otherwise I would've never written the story. Then I started writing it, my computer died and ate the first 100 words so I had to rewrite those and I'm rather happy because it turned out sleazier and what I was aiming for. This might just be the last thing I've written on said computer, who knows. I'm happy that I sent myself a copy just in case. Turns out caution was good. 

Also obviously the second inspiration is the Doing It To Death video. I liked the contrast of palm trees and gravestones, so that stood out for me and I held it. 

I was hesitant over the fact that I put Alison in a dress to which Callie replied saying that I already squeezed Alison into being a prostitute, so a dress is a minor thing.  

The last inspiration was pretty much everything sinking with my crush, so I kind of wanted to show my own sulking and a way to use it wisely. 

In the beginning all I had was the sole idea of pimp Jamie with no plot, so I used my trusty method of spacing out on a bus ride and started thinking about murder and originally I wanted to kill someone female, but decided that male would be more interesting, at least in how it will be unfolding so I decided on that. Then I needed to choose who to kill and frankly Brian was a good candidate.

I nearly spent as much figuring out a title. 

I hope you enjoyed it and you appreciate my efforts on a foreign keyboard.  



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