I don't know... people seem to have it in for me these days. First off, I come down the stairs this morning and there's a letter for me on the doormat from some anonymous person saying terrible things about me, really hurtful. I mean, what's that all about? Seems like I'd upset somebody just because of what I do. Well, you can't please everybody can you? But I tell you what, it did make me think. I mean, perhaps I was fucking up as many lives as I was helping. It's only ever been my intention to give the customers what they want -- satisfaction - cos after all said and done, the customer's always right, aren't they? But what if this gigolo lark did have consequences for some people? Did I really want to live with that weight on my shoulders? Seems like the older you get the softer you become... or maybe it's just part of growing up -- having scruples I mean.
I suppose everybody's got a conscience somewhere inside them. That's why I never like to go back on a job. I think once you've been there, done that, you should be on your way the hell out of there, because I tell you what, once you start getting to know people your perspective starts to change too. I mean, it don't do to get involved. Because once you start getting involved the old barriers go up. Things like emotions and concern get in the way of the job, or 'working relationship' should I say. Not that I'm against getting involved with anybody if the situation's right, it's just that it don't always do to mix business with pleasure.
What happened was; I'd had a text message the previous evening from Melanie which was completely out the blue. She wanted me to go round to her house today - not business or nothing like that - to collect something I'd left behind - so she said, anyway. Well that was a right mystery for a start because I was pretty sure I hadn't left anything behind when I was round there the other day. I'm always careful about leaving things in people's houses.
And that's when I saw the old brake lights come on and I thought, no, hold it Jason, there's something a bit fishy here. Tread careful. She just wants me back round there for a freebee or something. I tell you what though, I was tempted, especially today, because I didn't have a job on and I was at a loose end. I dunno, one minute there's dozens of rich women who want my services and next minute there's fuck all. It's a funny old world out there. But I don't let that sort of thing bother me. So although I was free for the day, I wanted to spend it driving down country roads in my old jam jar. That's all I felt like doing. I deserved a day off from shagging and what-not once in a while.
I texted Melanie to let her know I couldn't come over because I had an appointment, but that I'd let her know when I could come over and pick up whatever it was I was supposed to have left behind. Which was a bit of a lie, because I was wary about seeing her socially and wasn't sure whether I'd go back round at all, but I didn't to knock it completely on the head.
Now the funny thing was, I was feeling quite perky when I got up this morning, full of the joys of spring you might say. I was looking forward to my day off and going for a drive, having a drink and a pub lunch at the end of it. But I guess that letter from the 'Land of the Single Brain Cell' should have been a warning for me about how the day was going to go. And it's always the same with those kinds of people... in the best coward's tradition; they never leave a name or address. They just lob a few stones, break a few windows, run away and hide. I sometimes wonder what they're afraid of. Still, never mind. It takes all sorts.
When I went out the get in the Porsche, which I have to park outside, I could sense something wasn't right. It kind of looked all sorry for itself, like it was sulking. Usually, it looks all cocky, raring to go, like it's got a hard-on. When I got out to it I could see there was a fucking great score along the length of the nearside, right down to the primer, a white wiggly line in the bright red paint, front to back. I tell you, it felt like someone had just ripped my heart out, and it usually takes a lot to upset me. Not only that... when I looked down I could see I had a flat on the rear... and when I looked back at the front, that one'd been done as well. I somehow knew it would be a similar story on the offside. I walked round and saw that those had been spiked too, and to cap it all somebody had taken a kick at the driver's door. I tell you, that's the closest I've been to tears for ages. I mean what kind of pillock does that? I hate mindless vandalism, but this looked far more vindictive. I suppose they, whoever they were, think to themselves, well I can't afford one, so we'll kick the shit out of his because he can.
So that put a completely different slant on the day. I was pig sick. I went back inside and made myself a cuppa and phoned my mate Terry who works at the garage as a panel-beater. I told him all about it and he said he'd come over with the wreck truck and cart it off to hospital. That suited me because I just wanted to get out and away from this place for a while. I told Terry the keys would be under the wheel arch and to call me when my baby was all better. I knew then that I was going to have to move somewhere else pretty soon, a nicer area, somewhere where people were a bit more friendly.
So I had a cup of tea and then decided at the last minute to phone Melanie. Well, after the start to the day I'd had I figured I needed a bit of cheering up.
"Hello, Jason, what a surprise... I thought-"
"I've been let down," I said. "last minute cancellation, so I'm free. I could come over... you know, if you..."
"Well, that would have been lovely, but I'm just going out, dear, unfortunately."
"Oh well, another time then."
"When I thought you weren't coming, I arranged to go and see my mother. What a nuisance!"
"Don't worry about it."
"But hold on, I'll only be a couple of hours... Tell you what, I'll leave the key out under the pot by the front door. You can let yourself in and wait for me if you like. I'll de-activate the alarm, so you won't have to worry about that. Make yourself a drink, watch the television."
"What about Michael?"
