He is real - страница 5

In a small room of a cheap hotel, with the windows draped with thick beige curtains and the bed occupying most of the space of the room, there was a pair of representatives of Jewish youth. The guys, a little over twenty, were similar to each other, thin, with barely noticeable light stubble on their cheekbones and the same hairstyles in the latest fashion, when the hair is cut short at the temples, and the remaining long strands are combed together at the back of the head. They were wearing similar T-shirts of the same brand, differing only in color: one in white, and the other in blue. On a low coffee table, pulled up to the bed, there was a plate, and a rolled-up bill and credit card on it, next to this flat plate there was a bottle of whiskey.

– Will you pour me a drink? – I addressed one of the guys, pointing by a look at the bottle after Dani had left the room.

– Of course, said the one in the white T-shirt, and reached for a stack of plastic cups.

We spoke Hebrew, “Anna the capable” mastered the language after several months of her stay in the country, not to say a word about the level of knowledge after less than six years.

– Are you just dancing? – asked the guy wearing a blue T-shirt. Smiling nicely, he patted the bed with his palm, just on the place next to him where I was supposed to sit.

I left my bag on the table and had a seat next to him, he handed me a one-dollar bill twisted into a tube. I shook my head slightly, showing my refusal, mentally grinning at the significance of the one-dollar bill. What is the general sense of sniffing, using a piece of paper that equals one dollar, it is the same as drinking champagne for a thousand Euro on the side of the road from disposable cups and chasing it down with a half sour pickle.

– Yes, only dancing, – I answered confidently and calmly.

– And for a special fee? – asked the same one, wearing a blue T-shirt, then he bent over the table and, putting one end of the rolled bill in his nostril, inhaled a line of powder that waited patiently for him on the plate.

– For a special fee, you can call a prostitute. – I considered sex for money to be too low, but dancing, even if half-naked, was quite acceptable in my opinion. And this work did not dill purely in dancing, but in the ability to create a certain mood for the client.

My companion rubbed his nose and then raised his head and asked:

– I see, my name is Idan, and yours?

– Karina. Having voiced my stage name, I took the iced whiskey from the guy wearing a white T-shirt, and took a small sip.

– You're so beautiful! – said Idan, grinning in a blissful smile, he did not ask any more questions. – It’s my brother’s birthday, dance for him.

– With pleasure, – I expressed my consent in a soft voice full of good nature.

When I was going to Israel, there wasn’t even a hint in my mind that I would strip for money. But now everything is so conventional, to nauseating extremes. Yes, I easily managed to turn my appearance into a source of income. It would seem that all you need is to take off your dress, smile believably, dance sexually, congratulate the birthday boy on the birthday, bring variety to a lonely man’s night, or leave the groom pleasant memories of a stag party. But everything is not so easy. One after another, sleepless nights spent under the influence of alcohol exhaust and undermine the psyche. And the clients are finishing it off. Not like these cute young boys. Today I was lucky. They are the kind of personalities that it’s a wonder the earth allows them to simply walk on him. And paradoxically, their life is full of luck, they are given many opportunities, and that is why the money flows like water into their hands. Devilish perverts and drug addicts, most of whom are also the main levers in the management of society.