I get this check. I also find a job. It's on the side. It's cash. Not so much but some. Unhappy is stressed. His wife is angry. They have no money too. He calls me. To come to his office. I am walking. I have my iPod on. It's got music. I feel despair now. But fed up. I have this welfare. And I have a small job. I am sick of sucking cock. Sick of this. Sick SICK SICK. I wish to make the letters so big. SICK. All these men don't love me. Or like me. I am a doll. You have regs? You think they love? You are foolish. If they can pay they will. What if the reg has no $$? Well it's bye bye. This is friends? Or love? No way buddy. Papa calls me with no job. For these regs it's less. They are friends. Or even close. Only if the money is there. It's all money. The dollar signs. Sure Unhappy comes when I am raped. Does he like me? I think so. But I can't have him. He has a wife. And he has a child. You think he will care for Larissa if times are tough? No way. Papa will. He will be there. If Papa has two potatoes and we both must eat, he shares. Unhappy will eat both. I realize now. My entire life is a lie. ALL my life. It's a lie. These men. The regs. None care really? How does a man care? He cares when life is tough. When there is nothing. When there is two potatoes. He shares 1. None will share this with me. I am a whore. Not a seductress. I don't have power.
I get to the office. I have this card. I can get up. Unhappy meets me. It's a session in his office. It's like always. My hands on the window. I can see the mountains. He will come. Then we have a drink. His office is big. This time it's different. I don't care. He is finishing. He pours me a drink. Talks. It's like usual. Then I say it's done. he asks what is. I say me. I tell him I am finished. Retired. No more. He is shocked. He sais how come I decide. I tell him I am tired. It's not explosion. Not a bad date. Not the rape. Nothing. Just tired. If you are a whore you know it. One day you are DONE. FUCK THIS LIFE FOR GOOD.
He knows it. He tells me it's OK. He sais his life is a struggle and he has no money. He asks me, what will I do. I just tell him. Work. A real job. I lie and say he is my first in Calgary and is my last. We talk for a while. And drink in his office. He tells me he is fed up. It's just all bad. We get a bit drunk. We laugh like friends. I have a cigar. He tells me I'm a great woman. He tells me thank you for my time. I tell him he's a good friend. We talk more. But we must go. He will go home. He asks me. You want a ride. I say no. It's close. I put in on this iPod. I take the elevator. I walk outside. I turn up the song. I'm done.
I am walking away.
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