There is every reason to trust a man in his forties, who drives a Jeep and has several copies of The Economist magazine on the back seat. Such a man if he speaks in a deep voice, is collected when picking a girl, and genuinely seems interested in your welfare gives the impression he is self-assured; not one to play boyhood games of the twenties. But that is not always the case as I found last night.
This man picked me up around eleven. He was very sober and looked by his dressing as if he had worked till late in the night. We drove to a discreet Sh. 8,000-a-night hotel slightly out of town which is a favorite of relatively older men having some fun on the side. At the hotel, he asked if I was hungry, and I said I wouldn’t mind a snack. He paid for a room and I went to locate it as he ordered fish. I ate the fish in the room while he undressed and took a shower. I have to admit he was handsome.
By default, a man is supposed to pay a girl before she delivers the service. But then you have to judge each man individually. Once you agree on the amount there is no need to demand money upfront from a man who looks like he can pay. And if you plan to give your all then the hope is the man will pay you extra. Of course, if you are in downtown Nairobi you can’t take such gambles, no matter how the man looks.
So I gave myself to him. He seemed to enjoy and so did I and thus we tried several things in the hour I had agreed to spend with him. After we were done, I took a shower, dressed up, and asked for my pay which was also to include taxi charges. He reached for his trousers, removed a 200 shilling note, and gave it to me. I took it thinking he was looking for more. But he just dropped his trousers back to the bed.
” Thanks,” he said.
” So..?”
” What?”
“My money?”
” That is the amount I always pay prostitutes,” he said in a calm manner, and deep voice which I kind of liked.
I lost my temper. And for the first time in my career, I slapped a client hard on the face. He touched his jaw, then went to the door opened it, and told me to get out. He spoke slowly and confidently as if nothing had happened. Though in a fighting spirit, I was not blinded by anger. From his look, I knew he would have smashed me with his powerful hands. So I stepped out but made sure to do the prostitute thing which is to shame a man by screaming and calling him names. But perhaps having swindled again he knew by locking his door and ignoring me, I would be thrown out by the hotel staff, who in such places tend to side with the man. That’s exactly what happened. I was escorted to the gates still trying to create a scene.
Today when I think about it I feel a little foolish. One for trusting the man and two for causing unnecessary drama. I know I got myself marked by the hotel staff and other potential clients which is not good for business. And then what goes around comes around. Perhaps I deserved it, for only the other day did I steal from a man.
