Sitting in the gutter, looking at the stars

"So are we going to do it, or what?"

I looked at the man standing in front of me. His Greasy grey hair was plastered to the sides of his head, a few strands sweeping across the expanse of baldness on the dome, shimmering in the harsh light of the corridor. Beads of sweat pooled in the wrinkles of his forehead and dripped their way down his cheeks. His lips were chapped and dry, spots of saliva building up in the corners. The shiny suit he wore smelt of sweat and and piss, and there were dirty marks on his trousers. He put one fat grubby hand on my shoulder and pulled me towards him. I looked at the hand, saw the dirt embedded under his nails, and shuddered. How had I ended up here, like this?

The advert had promised big money for the right girl, and I appeared to the the right girl for the job. Escort, it called it. When I questioned whether that was a polite way of saying prostitute the owner told me no, escorts were completely different. It was all to do with the quality of the clients, he said. Prostitutes picked up dirty old men on the street, whereas escorts - well, they were a classier sort of girl, and they entertained a certain kind of man, a man who knew what he wanted and was willing to pay the right price for it. And to be fair, so far he'd been right. I'd been wined and dined, taken to the opera and ballet, and all they ever wanted in turn was a bit of love and affection, a bit of attention, someone to pamper their ego, stroke their dick and tell them they were hot in bed.

But this was different. I should have known, the minute I got the message asking me to meet him at the Plough. It was hardly the most salubrious establishment in town ... And my companion for the night was definitely not the type of gentleman I was used to servicing. In fact, he wasn't no gentleman at all.

"I said, are we doing it then?" The man yelled at me. And in that split second I made a decision. I was better than this, This game wasn't for me. I was heading for far bigger things.

I looked him straight in the eyes, and said, 'no. No we are not. This is over. You might be sitting in the gutter, mate, but me? I'm staring at the stars.