I left the courtroom feeling like the biggest idiot in history. A prostitute had beaten me in court. Not just any prostitute. It was Johanna who had taken me down. Realistically, I had brought it on myself with my own cocky, selfish, know-it-all arrogance. I should have given her the three hundred dollars. She had confided her life story to me, sharing all the pain and suffering she had endured. She had called me loving and caring and sweet. What had I done in return? I added to her agony. I betrayed her trust. I hated myself knowing that I would never have a chance to court her. My attorney said something about how long I had to pay the judgment. I couldn't care less. I would have given her the money right then if it would win her back. Dammit! I was in love with her.
I went home that night a broken excuse for a man. The apartment door I closed was the one I had closed behind her when she entered wearing her trench coat. In the kitchen sink was the bowl she had used to rinse off the razor she had shaved me with. The sofa had its own memories. She had sat on it when she opened the beer bottle with her strong hands. I had lain on it while she shaved me. I made a mental note to shave when I showered that night. At least I could keep that part of her. There was the bed where I had made love to her. I hadn't washed the sheets for over a month. The dried semen that had oozed out of her pussy was still there. I threw myself on the bed and cried myself to sleep.
The following week I received the letter informing me of the total amount of the judgment. Her attorney's fee was more than the "unpaid rent." She had definitely gotten her fiscal revenge.
Somehow I managed to drag myself to work five days a week. I wasn't able to concentrate as well as necessary. One afternoon my boss called me into his office. "Bert," he said, "what's going on? Your work has gone downhill the past couple of months. This isn't like you. You've always been one of my top producers."
"I've just been down in the dumps. I'll get over it."
"Is it a girl?"
I hesitated a moment. "Yeah."
"She must be pretty special for you to neglect your work. I'd like to meet her."
"We broke up."
"That's rough. I can see that you are hurting. You have vacation time accrued. Take a week off. Go to one of the cat houses near Reno and get laid. That should help take your mind off her."
"Maybe. I'll take the week though."
Instead of heading to Nevada, I stayed along the Pacific coast. After visiting Half Moon Bay for the I don't know how many times, I drove down the Coast Highway to Monterey Bay to watch the otters frolic in the bay waters before heading down to Solvang and its old-world theme. For the entire week, I was able to push Johanna out of my mind.
I returned my office refreshed and eager to get back to work. By the end of that week my old enthusiasm for the job took over and I was landing new accounts again. When I went home in the evening, I was no longer confronted with Johanna's ghost. I continued to shave my cock and balls just to please myself.
When Thanksgiving was over, a memo circulated announcing the company's annual Christmas party. As usual it was scheduled for an upscale hotel ballroom. There were four meal choices to select from. In previous years I had brought a beautiful girl as my date. I was known for the eye-candy that I had with me.
On my way home, I stopped at an adult bookstore and bought the latest copy of the Spectator. I had found previous dates in the escorts ads. Even though their fees were pretty high, I always enjoyed their company along with the complements from my coworkers about the beauty I had with me. I opened the newspaper to the escort ads when I sat down to eat my TV dinner. When I came to the classified ads, I nearly chocked. Even after six months, Johanna was still running her ad. Her name wasn't in the ad, but the wording had not changed. The identifying part was her telephone number. All of the pain of our parting in the courtroom came flooding back. Again I saw her anger, her pain, and her tears. My pain, my tears, and my shame returned in an instant. I didn't want any other date for the party but her. By my own dastardly stupidity, I had permanently closed that door. How could I have been such an idiot? The more I looked at her ad, the more I realized that I had to win her back. Groveling was not beneath me.
How could I talk to her? What should I say? I had to apologize for my unconscionable behavior. Would she even stay on the line long enough for me to say I'm sorry? There was only one option. I would have to start talking and not shut up until I had finished spilling my guts, then pray that she would accept my apology.
I got my telephone and dialed her number. Her phone rang. I had to be patient. It would take her a little time to answer. A second ring. Waiting was important. The third ring. Maybe she was out fucking some other guy. Somebody who would treat her better than I had. "Hello." It was her voice.
"Johanna, it's Bert Simon," I said quickly. "You sued me last summer for non-payment of rent and won. I'm calling to apologize. I had no business treating you the way I did. You were completely right in suing me. You called me a bastard and you were right. I am a worthless bastard." Tears began to flow down my face. "Worst of all I hurt you. I would not fault you for slamming the phone down in my ear." I began to cry as I spoke. "You have every right to hate me."
"Bert...."
"Johanna, I am so very, very sorry for everything I've done."
"Bert, shut up!" Her vocal volume silenced me. Calmly she said, "I accept your apology."
"Thank you. I don't deserve it but thank you."
"The old saying is true: everything is in the timing. I was getting ready to call you. I'm scared out of my panties, but I had to do it."
"Why would you want to contact an asshole like me?"
"So I could forgive you."
"After what I did, you are willing to forgive me?"
"When I was telling you about my life, you asked me if I had sought counseling. After we left the courtroom I remembered that conversation. The next week I went to see a therapist. I've been seeing him once a week for four months now. You were right. I was starving for affection. I still am, but not nearly as much. I also have a lot of anger issues, not just with you, but with both of my parents, and my two stepfathers. If I am going to have any healing, I have to confront those issues. Letting them go requires forgiving and forgetting. I wanted to start with you."
"You forgot to forget me? Thank you, Johanna. You've taken a lot of guilt off me. It looks like we are helping each other. Does your therapist know about your escorting?"
"Yes."
"How does it fit with your need for affection?"
"He says it will come on its own as I resolve the anger."
"So he is okay with the escorting?"
"Strangely, yes."
"Then I can proceed to another subject. My company's Christmas party is on the seventeenth. It will be a pretty typical corporate affair. The bar opens at six followed by dinner at seven; the menu is limited to four choices. Next will be announcements about how well the company has done and services awards followed by dancing until midnight. Would you do me the high honor of being my date? I'll pay your fee up front when you arrive, so we won't have any repeat of the past."
"I never expected this. I don't know what to say!"
"Granting me the favor of 'yes' would make me very happy."
