The Escort Page #4

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I mostly wrote

for the obituary section.

That's kind of cool in, like,

a gothic loner kind of way.

I don't know,

I just kind of...

kind of enjoyed finding

the best possible combination

of words to tell

someone's story, you know?

I like it

when I read the obituary

and I look at the picture

of the person

smiling and looking all happy,

and you forget

about the pancreatic cancer

or whatever sh*t happened.

It's nice.

Zip me up?

Um...

yeah, sure.

Sure.

I know

Know there's a way

Yeah, well,

zipped up.

If you're gonna be seen

with me,

I can't have you

wearing that.

What's wrong

with what I'm wearing?

You look like Mr. Rogers.

What the f*** am I wearing?

What?

I look like a band member

from Jesse and the Rippers

from Full House, that's what.

I think you look hip

and handsome,

like you belong.

- In a Robin Thicke video.

- A little bit.

Well, if you're gonna be

seen with me,

this is what you're wearing.

You just get a couple

different color T-shirts.

You rotate them around.

It'll be like

a whole new outfit.

- The chain looks great on you.

- I--

It does.

You're gonna wait at the bar

until I land a client.

Don't leave.

When I do get somebody,

I'm gonna go to room 1516.

Just wait in the hall

until I'm done.

- Remember, you're a ghost.

- Got it.

But if I do summon you,

you may engage me.

Engage you?

What are you, the NSA?

Do I look like I'm laughing?

On the outside, no,

but maybe on the inside?

- No.

- Okay.

All right.

Can I have a drink or...

Would you pay

to have sex with me?

I thought we've already

been through this.

I can't afford you.

I know, but, like,

am I f***ing hot enough?

Oh, even the pros

need a pep talk

once in a while, huh?

I mean, yeah, you're hot.

I understand

it's a part of aging,

but I still think of myself

as a young guy.

- Oh?

- I think it's manly.

All right, here.

I'll let you feel something

that's manly, huh?

That's funny,

but if you try that sh*t again,

I'm gonna have my guy over there

snap off that puny excuse

for a dick.

Oh, hey, I was just...

I was just messing around.

Come on, there's no need

to get worked up here.

Come on,

we're just having drinks.

F*** yes! Oh!

Oh, my God.

Bullshit.

What, you don't think

it's possible

for me to enjoy the sex?

Not to that degree

and certainly not

with a guy like that.

I got to have something

for them to come back for.

I mean, it's all

about generating regulars.

What, you think

those artificial orgasm noises

is what brings them back?

Dude, I get rave reviews.

I'll be sure to check out

your Yelp page when I get home.

You should.

Five stars.

Who's texting so much?

Girlfriend?

No, just people.

All right, meet me here

tomorrow, 10:
00 a.m.

All right.

Hey.

Seriously,

thanks for doing this.

Ride's on me.

It's nice of them to give me

a complimentary tea.

So do you have a pimp, or do you

do all your own bookings?

All generated

by yours truly.

Ah, an entrepreneur.

Why go pimp-less?

They take too much

of the pie

for what they're worth.

But isn't it, like,

dangerous for you

to be out there all alone?

I'm not gonna answer

another question

until you man up

and get a pedicure.

No, I'm not--I'm not gonna

get a pedicure.

I've never had

a pedicure before.

I'm not gonna

get a pedicure.

Hey, do manicures

come with this?

No, that's extra.

Would you like one?

Well, I just figure

since we're here.

- Hmm.

- Right?

Right.

One-stop shopping

sort of thing.

- No polish, though.

- No, of course not.

No polish.

Yeah--yeah, it varies

anywhere from two to eight guys

a week.

Most of them are regulars.

Wait, let's just back up

a little bit.

How do you even get into this

in the first place?

Dana had just

started working,

and she was making

all this money

while I was barely

covering the rent from tutoring,

and, um, one night,

she took me to a club

and introduced me

to her pimp.

Oh, so you did have a pimp

at one point?

- Yes!

- F***er.

- Yeah, for a minute.

- F***.

Yeah.

For a minute.

He gave me the $900 price tag

and called over

one of his clients,

and before I knew it,

his client came over

and pulls out a wad of cash

and, um, puts it

right in front of me.

You tell yourself that

you would never do something

like that for money,

but when it's staring at you

right in the face...

Come on,

let's play another game.

Let's go.

Yeah, another game

where I kick your ass.

All right, this is unfair.

I don't have this version.

I've got two years ago.

Well, aren't you guys

in a celebratory mood?

Celebrating Benny's promotion,

huh?

You little prick, right?

Now, I bet he has sucked

more dick than you

to get where you are,

right there, Benny?

Right?

God, relax, sweet tits, okay?

We're just having some fun,

all right?

Let's have another shot.

Hey, you want to move

this party upstairs?

Whoa, whoa, group--

group table here.

Come on, Warren, man, quit

giving her such a hard time.

Shut the f*** up,

Benny, all right?

Drink your drink, all right?

She can take it.

She can take pretty much

anything I can give her, right?

Huh? Oh!

Ohh, you f***ing slut.

You know how many c*cks

you would have to sit on

to pay for a shirt like this?

All right,

that's f***ing enough.

Mitch.

Uh...something going on

over here?

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.

Mind your own

f***ing business, pal, okay?

No, he's not gonna

mind his own business

because he's my bodyguard,

and if you don't

shut the f*** up,

he's gonna beat the crap

out of you.

Oh. Wow.

Tough guy, huh?

You heard her.

If you don't shut the f*** up,

I'm gonna beat the crap

out of you.

Why don't you get the f***

out of here?

F*** this.

Wait, wait.

Wait, Mitch, Mitch, Mitch.

Wait, wait, wait.

What are you, using me as, like,

some sort of pimp or something?

Okay, we're using each other.

You get what you want,

and I get what I want.

I can't beat up five guys.

I'm not Bruce Lee.

They're all talk. They're not

gonna actually do anything.

Probably.

Think how great

your article will be.

Just don't get me killed,

okay?

Thanks.

Who keeps texting you?

People text.

Friends text.

I'm sure you text.

Yeah, but that's,

like, the text frequency

of a very desperate woman.

Hey, we're done here, right?

Yeah, I guess.

All right.

I'll see you later.

Just like that?

Since when does a pimp have

to explain anything to his ho?

Don't stop.

Don't stop, don't stop!

Like I said,

I'm not planning on it.

F***.

I only caught the end,

but I think you were doing

a little too much...

- You followed me.

- Yeah, I followed you.

All that text messaging,

you were giving me, like,

a creepy drug pin vibe.

I needed to know what it was,

and now I know.

Oh, a prostitute was worried

about being linked

to a seedy underworld.

Yeah, if you're gonna be

in charge of my safety,

I need to know that you're not

gonna just sketch off

and leave me with

a potentially dangerous client.

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