The red bedroom is fitted with a blue light that makes the white sheet glow eerily as she lays it on the bed.
Linda points toward the cubicle in the corner and asks if I want a shower.
Instead, I tell her I just want to talk. Maybe it's my pride, my upbringing or fear of the Latin South African, but I don't ask her to fulfill her side of the bargain.
'Is it true that most girls save kissing for their boyfriends?' I ask.
'You have to have something to make different between work and love. No kissing and no licking.'
'Licking?'
Naïf that I am, I imagine some guy trying to lick her face.
She points between her legs. 'No licking here.'
Ohhh.
Linda claims she's studied economics but went on the game after getting into debt.
She's worked in clubs for a total of two years now, taking month-long breaks at a time.
'This work is very difficult for your mind. For many people, Prague is a big city. But for me, in this work, it is very small. Sometimes I see clients on the tram and I have to hide to make sure they don't see me. Many people like to live in Prague, but I would like to go back to my village to live.'
And marry and have kids?
'Yes. Someday.'
But not to a foreigner.
'Because when you divorce, he might take the kids to his country,' she reasons. 'Your friend wants to make photos of me for erotic modeling, but that is different from this job. I do this job for money. But photos, anybody can see. When I'm finished with this, the chapter is closed.'
* * *
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