a phone call

the story below is from the section in my memoir entitled ‘Stroking Naked Men’. The book is structured into 6 sections while remaining nonlinear throughout. It is a book of postcards. It is me configured into a paperback book.If you’d like to read it, you will find it in all the usual places - Amazon, any online bookseller, and any real world bookshop.

hello,

is that Carolina?

Yes it is.

I saw an advert in the paper. Can I come and see you today?

Maybe, I say. I can do a massage today as it happens. Later on. Let’s back up a bit first though. Tell me something about what you’re looking for.

Oh you know, just a massage with a happy ending.

I smile at him. I would describe my service as devotional pleasuring throughout, rather than a rub-down and a wank.

Okay, he says. That’s fine.

Would you like to ask me anymore questions?

No, no, it’s fine. Can I come this afternoon? I finish work at four.

I could offer you an appointment around four. I listen carefully to this man that isn’t saying much. I prod him a little. Are you sure? You can have a think about it if you like and call me back.

No, he says. I want to come. I will show up.

Right you are, I say. I decide he’s one of mine. I can sniff something underneath his monosyllabic efforts that feels true. Okay, let me tell you what I charge.

Okay, he says.

I tell him my fee.

That’s fine, he says.

Good, I say, getting into his rhythm. You’d better tell me your name.

It’s Clive.

I imagine shaking hands with him. I give him the address and information about parking. Looking forward to finding you on my doorstep in a couple of hours, I say.

Okay. Bye.

Bye Clive.

I plant a small kiss on my phone and write him into my day.