I can't believe he stood me up again!
It was quarter past nine, and the movie that he promised he would take me to started fifteen minutes ago.
I knew it wasn't his type of movie, but I never asked much of him. Hell, I did so much for him; I gave him all the sex he wanted; when he wanted, the least he could do was sit through this movie for a couple of hours.
To make it worse, I had spent half the day getting ready for tonight. I thought I would surprise him with a new semi-gothic look. He had mentioned several times that he liked that look, so stupid me thought, why not surprise him?
I should have clued in when he called me that evening and told me that he was running late and would meet me at the cineplex instead of picking me up. I knew that running late meant he was drinking at his buddy's place. I disapproved, but he promised he would show up. Stupid me...again.
So there I was in the lobby waiting for my piece of shit boyfriend, questioning why I always let men treat me like this.
I called him, but there was no answer. The later it got, the more obvious it was that he wasn't going to show up. I'm sure he was drunk with his ignorant pig buddies.
I was feeling hurt and seriously pissed off.
Well, fuck him, I thought. I went outside and paused on a bench to gather my thoughts. How could I somehow salvage this night? I knew he was at his friend's place drinking, and I was pretty sure he was expecting me to show up there, just like all the other Saturday nights. Well, not this night. I had enough of him.
I pulled my long black coat tight around me. My hair was blowing in the wind, and I could feel the biting wind against my stockinged legs, my short skirt not offering much protection.
An older man came and sat on the bench beside me. Lighting up a cigarette, he looked me over and said,
"Nice look. Goth or emo?"
"Neither," I replied as I turned away from him. I'm sure he got that I wasn't in a good mood.
"Are you interested in having some fun?" he said.
I didn't respond, as I wasn't really interested in anything he had to say.
He took a drag of his cigarette, then dropped it to the ground, grinding it out underfoot. He pulled his wallet from his jacket pocket and counted the contents.
"What can I get for $200?"
Oh my god, does he think I'm a hooker? Do I really look like a hooker? He has my attention now.
I turned to look at him. He had longish but greying hair, smooth features, and was attractive in a bookish kind of way. He was dressed in a suit, dark blue, with a white shirt and a pale yellow tie. His leather jacket looked expensive, as did his shoes.
"Are you serious? I'm nineteen, and you're offering me money for sex? You fucking old pervert." I sneered at him.
The entire time I was scolding him, I was thinking $200 was a shit load of money (back then), and I was really in no position to walk away from such a windfall. At the time, my father was not working due to an illness, and my family was struggling financially.
He smiled and put the money back in his wallet.
"I'm in town on business. I was supposed to meet someone for dinner, but they've just canceled. I'm at a loose end. I'm sorry if I offended you."
He stood up and made to leave. I had to admire his audacity.
"Cash up front," I shot back. I was momentarily stunned that those words actually came out of my mouth.
He stopped and looked me over. I stood up. I had on my long black coat, short black leather skirt, black stockings, and knee-high leather boots. Under my coat, I had on a scarlet bra and a lacy blacktop. I had gotten carried away with my make-up, lots of dark lipstick, and tons of black eyeliner. My mom said I looked like a panda, the bitch. I was going for the semi-Goth look that evening, and I had nailed the look, so I thought.
"Half now, the rest later," he said.
I nodded and took the offered $100.
What the fuck was I doing? Getting back at my piece of shit boyfriend? But I was strangely attracted to this older, well-dressed man, and well, it was $200--more than two months worth of working at my part-time job and babysitting stints combined.
"Where are we going to do this?" I asked.
He pointed to the hotel across from the cineplex.
"I'm in room 306. I'll go ahead, and you follow in five minutes. I'm trusting you not to be a runner."
He turned, crossed the road, and disappeared through the hotel revolving door.
I could just run. I thought it would serve him right for soliciting a young girl.
Could I actually go through with this? What was the alternative? Go hang out with my dumbass boyfriend, get drunk, and then have unsatisfying sex with him. At least this guy seemed nice. I'm sure he wouldn't have stood me up, either. I told myself to think of it as just another date. Awe, fuck, why not?
My mind was made up; I stood up, crossed the road, and entered the hotel. I could feel the stares from the staff as I walked through the lobby and headed to the elevator.
The elevator seemed to take forever to arrive, and my hand was shaking as I pressed the button for the third floor. The elevator doors opened, and I saw the sign telling me the room I wanted was to the right.