But worth every penny, I'm sure.
Later, on the web, I learn that you can bargain the girls down to $50 for two hours or $100 for a whole night, according to this posting from a Turkish john on a sex forum:
Don't give 150-200 $ to bit*hes!
Do not spoil the morals of the wh*res and the market!
You may tip the owner of the tail, if you are really over-satisfied.
But please be thoughtful. Not every other soul has a wallet as thick as yourselves.
And they say chivalry is dead.
Mehmet's practically gnawing his knuckles by now, so I decide to put him out of his misery.
Florentina is curling her finger toward me to come back, but we're ready to go. And she can't breach the invisible barrier to pursue me. I'm the man. I'm the boss.
Having approached her in the first place, though, I never counted on the flicker of despair in her face as she watches us leave.
Everybody faces rejection in life—God knows writers do—but it must be keenly humiliating to offer your body to a stranger and then be knocked back without knowing why.
Of course, it could be that I'm a sucker, and she's just sorry to see me go. She may be playing me right to the end. But I feel vaguely disgusted with myself for not having anticipated the consequences.
For his part, Mehmet's feeling full-blown relief. 'It's like coming out of a prison!!!' he gasps as we emerge onto the dead-end street.
The Mother Mosque is glowing in the distance, and the balmy air is laced with rotting rubbish, but Mehmet breathes it in gratefully.
'I was so nervous, my legs were shaking! It was depressing—the women just standing there for sale.' He shakes his head. 'It's not like that in gay clubs.'
Alas, maybe next time.
* * *
No comments:
Post a Comment