The scummy man (I)

Do you like your job, if you’re lucky enough to have one?

Except for those who are blessed with a vocational or an artistic occupation, there are only a selected few who are happy in their work.

There is no such thing as a perfect job. Normally, when the job is not too hard, you work with assholes. And when you don’t work with assholes, you have a harsh job that doesn’t pay much.

Sometimes you’re expected to do ten things at once and know everything about everything. Some other times you may find yourself sitting at your desk with nothing to do for hours. With luck and cleverness, you will graduate in the fine arts of delegating and skiving, still looking busy.

When I was an employee of the Dumbass Industries, some days I loved my work and some days I hated it. My career suicide happened so fast that I didn’t even realise. I had burned my bridges so badly with Big Cheese that all the head hunters in South Sandwich laughed just to hear my name.

I always thought that nobody should complain about their job, but rather feel lucky to have one. But I hated working for ‘High, Low & partners’ before I had even started. And I didn’t feel any lucky this time.

That escort job of mine pretty much sucked. But I had accepted the job and signed a contract, so that evening I joined Demonius High to the Gritvyken airport, to entertain Leonard Ellison -the Orsinian tycoon- to dinner and shower him with attentions.

Leonard’s private jet landed in South Sandwich at 7pm. When he showed up in the VIP lounge he was preceded by a cortège of assistants, chiefs of cabinet, advisors and bodyguards, all of them elegantly dressed in black and surrounded by reporters, lights and cameras.

With my incredible bad luck, I would be in the newspapers again real soon and my new occupation would be the bombshell of the month in the professional circles. I could almost read the captions: “Dumbass Industries’ ex-chief of cabinet goes through hardships in life and becomes a successful social escort. Ed Davies and Leonard Ellison among her most famous clients”.

I would be marked down as a whore for the rest of my life.

- I hope you’ve had a pleasant trip, Leo. –said Demonius, as they both shook hands-
- It was good, Dem. –answered Leonard, smirking-
- Let me introduce you to Leni Qinan, our latest signing. She will take care of you while you’re here.
- That’s fine. I really like to be well looked after.

He smiled and looked me up and down. What a revolting slobberer. If Demonius expected me to have sex with that guy, he was nuts. I needed a contingency plan immediately.

- I think I forgot my cell phone in the car. Would you mind if I go get it? –I asked-

No, they didn’t mind at all, as long as I’d be back soon. So I started walking in the parking lot direction, but when I lost sight of them, I rushed to the airport’s chemist.

- Can I help you, Ma’am? –asked the chemist-
- Yes, I need a box of Barbituratics. –I answered-
- Could I have the prescription, please?
- Sure. Just a sec –I said, looking for the nonexistent prescription into my bag-

Barbituratics are the most powerful soporifics sold in the Sandwichian drugstores. I needed knockout sleeping pills. Don’t get me wrong: I’m not a downer junkie. Actually, I’ve never had a sleeping pill in my whole life.

I knew about Barbituratics because I had been browsing in the internet to find the name of a drug strong enough to leave Leonard out for the count for at least ten hours. That was my plan.

My plan was very simple: dropping a couple of pills in his drink as soon as he started pestering me, in case he did. He would sleep like a baby until the day after. That would let him out for the count all night and then he would remember nothing.

Of course, I didn’t have the prescription requested by the chemist, but I could be very convincing in extreme situations:

- I’m afraid I’ve lost it on my way to the check-in counter. Oh my, I’m flying in half an hour and I need to take a pill or I’ll have a panic attack when the plane takes off! –I sobbed-

The guy stared at me.

- Are you really so afraid of flying? –he asked-.
- Indeed. It scares the hell out of me. –I pouted-
- Hm… wait, maybe I can arrange it.

He left. One minute later he came back carrying a small black box containing two red shiny pills.

- You should try this. They call them Red Devils. They’re brand-new. One pill and you’ll get 8 hours of sleep just a few minutes after swallowing it. –he said-
- Are you sure? I always trusted my Barbiturates.
- I'm sorry, but I can't sell Barbiturates without a prescription. These are even more powerful and totally harmless. You should only take one now.
- Excellent. This is what I needed. I’ll save the other one for the return trip.
- I hope this works. It’s 100 G.

That was incredibly expensive, but it was worth paying. I was a bit desperate.

I rushed back to the VIP lounge, where Demonius and Leonard were having a drink in a private room, talking about business.

- Leni, please join us for dinner tonight at Chez François. –said Leonard-
- With pleasure. –I said, pretending to be very happy with the idea-
- Nice kid, eh? Why don’t we take my limo? –said Leonard pointing at me and winking at Demonius, who winked back at him-

Oh man. Was it just my imagination or weren’t both of them absolutely loathsome?

Chez François was the most expensive and exclusive restaurant in the South Sandwich Islands. Of course, he insisted on me sitting next to him, which I did, pretending to be happy as a clam.

We were served lobster à l’Orsinienne, parmentier with duck, foie and truffles and clafoutis aux abricots, by formal waiters wearing black uniforms. Demonius ordered an excellent mature wine to go with the duck. But I couldn’t have a bite to eat, just thinking of what was coming after the pantagruelian dinner.

At the end of the meal, I swallowed a decaffeinated coffee and tried to be a good conversationalist. That was a real mistake: Leonard looked even more fascinated with every word I pronounced.

- Why don’t we have the last drink in my hotel suite? –asked Leonard-
- That’s an excellent idea, Leo. –answered happily Demonius-
- Not you, stupid. I was talking to Leni. –said Leonard, a bit drunk-.



"When the sun goes down" (Arctic Monkeys)

How I became a well paid hooker...

In the past, I had often taken radical decisions without hesitating, in order to turn my professional life 180. My intuition always guided me in the right direction.

But this time it was completely different. This was the most delicate situation I ever had to face concerning my work.

In all honesty, I wasn’t very happy with the idea of becoming a social escort, a VIP hooker, an expensive slut… call it what you want to. It would always be the same.

But on the other hand, I couldn’t find a job anywhere and I desperately needed money to pay my mortgage. If I was able to overcome my reluctance and handle the situation, this would be easy money. Maybe I just needed a little psychological training to accept my new occupation.

Madame Christelle, a famous dissipated woman who owned the most popular top class brothel of Grytviken after the war, wrote in her fabulous book of memories ‘Dubious moral’: "Women that do men should like their job. Otherwise, working could be a torture".

That was discouraging. I could have had a bit of a dissolute behaviour in my life, but that didn’t qualify me to become a professional whore.

So that night I didn’t sleep a wink. I pictured myself walking old fat tycoons all over the city; being exhibited like a trophy; sitting beside them at the most expensive restaurants; smiling at each and everyone; becoming the sexual fantasy of wealthy happily married but sexually unhappy men; finally being shagged night after night in the expensive suites of the most expensive hotels.

The bright side of my dreams was that I always had a few bucks in my pocket and I didn’t have to live on bread and tomato soup anymore. But in the back of my mind, I wished I could go back to the day when Hellgirl offered me to become a chicken sexer and say ‘yes’. Unfortunately, I was not in time to change my mind.

When I woke up from my concerns, Hellgirl phoned me.

- Leni, have you thought about yesterday’s conversation?
- Yes.
- Have you taken a decision?
- Yes. I accept the job.
- Excellent. Then it’s time to dress up, get ready and go to see Demonius High. You will meet him at his office at 11am.

For some reason, at that very moment I thought of Ed. I missed him badly. I still carried that devastating feeling of rejection around in my stomach like a painful burden. I expected a phone call, an e-mail or an SMS for weeks. But I never heard from him since I left his family house in Burdishland, after having thrown on the table the wonderful diamond ring he gave me. The very thought of that scene left me about to tear up. What a shame our romance didn’t have a happy ending.

I let out a deep sigh of melancholy and slowly woke up to reality.

I chose the best dress in my wardrobe, a pair of high heeled shoes and got all dolled up. It was almost 10am and I had to leave to ‘Hig, Low & partners’ premises. I decided to take a taxi. I had run out of gas in my beautiful silver BMW Series 1 some weeks ago, and never refuelled the tank afterwards. I had to cut expenses. I couldn’t take the tube either, because I looked a bit eye-catching in my elegant clothes. I normally didn't dress so smartly for work, but I thought this was what Demonius High would like to see.

And yes, in fact he loved it. When I entered his luxurious office, he appraised me from top to bottom.

- Dear Leni, come in please. I’ve heard so much about you from our common friend Hellgirl! You look stunning! –he said, smiling and holding out his hand to me.
- Thank you, sir.
- Oh please, call me Dem.

Demonius High was a very charismatic businessman. Diplomatic, attractive and nice, he exerted a strong personal magnetism.

- I’m so glad that you decided to join the firm. Your work is very important to us, Leni.
- Thank you, sir.
- Dem. Call me Dem, please.
- Thank you, Dem.

I could barely smile and I spoke so unwillingly that I’m now surprised he didn’t think that I was stupid.

He brought to the conversation the signature of an agreement by virtue of which I would become an employee of his company. He summarised again the conditions and remunerations for my services, and upon agreement of both parties, we signed a contract. This was one of the saddest moments of my life. My self esteem hit bottom, as disappointed with myself as I was.

After the signature, he gave me a folder containing a passport, a credit card, the keys to a sports car and an iPhone for my personal use, just as Hellgirl had explained to me the day before. Then, he handed me a photograph and explained what my first work would be.

- This is Leonard Ellison, the wealthiest man in Orsinia. He owns a profitable huge corporation and I have the honour of being his legal advisor in the South Sandwich Islands. He’s arriving tomorrow on a business trip. You will entertain him to dinner and then you will shower him with attentions. Be an exquisite girl, Leni. He’s my best client. –he said, staring into my eyes-

Leonard Ellison. I almost blacked out when I heard that name. The loathsome, obnoxious, thin-skinned, narcissist, egocentrical, arrogant, proud and self-centered Leonard Ellison was a middle-aged Orsinian tycoon, well-known for his haughtiness and irritating mannerisms.

He was the most important benefactor of the Dumbass Industries when I worked there.

Last winter, Big Cheese had sent me to Madhattan to fix a huge fuckup of epic proportions: he had forgotten to invite Leonard Ellison to the new theatre opening gala, organised by the Dumbass Industries and sponsored by the Ellison Corporation. His assistant called to reserve four seats but since there were none available, she was told that his name would be added to the waiting list and taken off as cancellations would come in. When Leonard knew this, he freaked out. Not only did he take offence; he also took action immediately: he phoned to tell Big Cheese he would be cutting the funds allocated to community services.

My desperate attempts to speak to Mr. Ellison just took me to his Chief of Cabinet, who was a nice guy but also the custodian of his boss's peace. So Leonard remained completely unreachable.


Ed knew him quite well. They had done business together and played golf regularly.
So eventually, it was Ed who got in touch and convinced him: Leonard Ellison gave him his word of honour that he would send back the funds to the Dumbass Industries. So for the moment, Big Cheese could save his ass.

This is how well I knew the guy. And now I had to "shower him with attentions", so to speak.

Suddenly I got in a panic. What would happen if Ed ever found out what my new occupation was? What if my future became an endless series of nightmarish sessions of exquisite girly action? I would never be able to have a normal life again.

When I got home, I felt empty inside. A few minutes later, just as if she had been watching me, Hellgirl phoned.

- So how did it go, Leni?
- Oh, great. I have a new boss. I work for a great corporation. Tomorrow I’ll have my first client. Now it’s official: I’m a hooker.




‘Little boxes’ (Regina Spektor)