Mrs. Wan had promised me “guaranteed results” in my search for a good female soul who would accept, for a good salary, to live all day naked around old Mr. Me. To that effect I had bought a nice traditional house by the ocean, far from the capital of this Southeastern Asian country. At the moment I was downtown, looking out candidates, one at a time, one a day.
Mrs. Wan, director of a head hunting office, and myself had arranged for four meetings in four days. The first one was a disaster. “Tomorrow, 4 pm, another girl,” Mrs. Wan had assured me.
The next day, right on the clock, ding dong.
A model. She looked like one. I was stunned for a second. I let her in and asked her if she wanted a drink. “Fruit juice,” she said. “OK,” I said. I got myself a beer. I quickly realized this model was only, at this point, an aspiring model. I guess she figured that one old mysterious white guy could be good for her career in some sort of magic way. She was apparently thinking why not.
I knew she was well over 18 years old for sure because I made it clear to Mrs. Wan that the woman who may end up living with me had to be an adult. But this one still looked quite young I thought. She told me she was already posing nude for some painter whose name I don’t remember. So, during the interview, she posed, moving her long black hair this way or that way, bringing out all that she had. Well I’m no artist or art director and her posing quickly got on my nerves.
She felt it I guess because that’s when she asked: “Do you want to see me naked?”
My god, didn’t I see it all already? Everywhere in the world, there are the same ‘models’ who, with the aspiring actresses, would, according to their luck, end up in the brothels of the world, from 5 stars brothels with a shogun to no star at all bordellos.
I mean she had everything perfect, even the teeth. It was unbelievable.
It’s the teeth that freaked me out. I was thinking, shit, for you to have teeth so perfect like that, especially in some bumfuck southeastern Asian country, your Dad and your Mom must have sacrificed a lot. I know the price of orthodontic. Not that I think that they should sacrifice or not sacrifice, they did what they felt they had to do for their daughter, but I found myself in an uncomfortable situation. I kept thinking: Did Mom and Pop pay for the tits too? And the lips? And the pussy? And the asshole? Do all teeth of your asshole are also so perfectly line up? And Mom and Pop paid for it too?
So I told her that but with much nicer words. I don’t think she quite got it, she wasn’t listening. She tried again: “you’re sure that you don’t want to see me, you know I can take my clothes off, it’d take just a minute.”
After she was gone, I got a cold beer and went to sit on the terrace. Night was coming over the city. I could hear the honks and tonks of so many busy people and I thought of my place by the beach. I was happy again to have left a light on there.
Then I took my phone and called Mrs. Wan.
“Mrs. Wan,” I said, “I told you, I’m no artist. I don’t own an art gallery nor a movie studio and, even if I wanted, I wouldn’t know how to get your girl in the magazines, although she’s willing.”
“So, it’s a no go?” asked Mrs.Wan.
“It’s a no go, again,” I said, a bit peeved.
“No problem, no problem, two girls no good, ‘c’est possible’,” she said in French.
OK I knew. Tomorrow 4 pm.
Sure enough: Ding dong.
This one was more mature, beautiful and funny and we had a great time. She was some younger clone of Mrs. Wan, wearing even a violet dress and I don’t tell you the heels. She was smart, bright and had ambition for herself.
Very early on, I had to stop her short and explain to her that I already knew she wasn’t a good candidate for me. But I told her that, if she wanted, I could go get two more beers out of the fridge and we could pursue this conversation together. She laughed and said ok for yet another beer.
So I explained to her that I have no problem with gold diggers, every one, male, female, other, having to do with what he/she/it is given at birth. I was just not the right guy for her at that moment. Good try, wrong century. I didn’t need an expensive and carnivorous flower woman that I could show off in front of my expatriate friends. Also, at the end, I didn’t have that kind of money, since I gave most of it away. With me, I told her, there would be no parties, no dinners in town, no receptions at the embassies, no Marseillaise, no Star Spangled Banner. Just a modest place with a front porch on a lonely beach far away from city lights.
She understood and now we were talking on level grounds and that in itself was progress as far as Mrs. Wan was concerned. That’s probably why we had such a wonderful evening.
By then we were on the terrace, night had fallen over the city. We could hear the honks and tonks of so many busy people and I told her of my place by the beach and how I was happy to have left a light on there.
That’s when Mrs. Wan called.
“Everything OK?” she inquired, in regard to the time it was I guess.
“Everything OK,” I said. I think she could hear in my voice I was having a good time.
“Tomorrow 4 pm still OK or not OK?” she asked
“Yes,” I said. “Tomorrow 4 pm still OK.”
She went blank for a split second. “OK, tomorrow 4 pm OK,” and she hung up.
As she was getting ready to leave, Mrs. Golddigger asked me. “How come you didn’t want to see me nude? Mrs. Wan told me about this job, about being naked all day, you know that I can take my clothes off in a minute.” I didn’t know what to say other than I appreciated meeting her and her presence.
“Ok, I’ll show you for free and only because it’s you,” she said smiling. “I think you’re crazy but you can at least tell me what you think of me and if I stand a chance with the big guys.” Her eyes were laughing and she was about to start to undress, her right hand on her left shoulder already and her right foot ready to kick her heel. “Please, stop,” I cried and I meant it.
It was odd for a second. I knew that if she, at that very moment there on the terrace, had taken her clothes off, I would have fallen. And, within six months, she would have cleaned me out dry. That’s what she does and that’s fair and I know I could not have resisted against her wit and forms. I had done too much of that already and today was not the point anymore. Again she understood.
I told her that, in my view, she could and should try it with the big boys, she had everything that is needed. I told her she’d have to be careful though. And I told her that, in any case, she could easily grab a good lawyer or a good doctor or a good architect or a sorry politician or whomever and rule their world. I offered to buy her a one way ticket straight to Chicago, Miami or L.A. She declined. “I’ll find my way,” she said. No doubt.
As she left, I wished her good luck and she gave me a hug followed by a quick kiss where I could smell her lipstick. Then she was gone.
I got a beer, went back to the terrace. I enjoyed the evening warmth. One more appointment and I was going back to my home by the beach.
“4 pm tomorrow OK,” Mrs. Wan had said.