Memoirs of the Yosha

Right in front of me was a glass-wall.Beyond it were seated some 20 girls wearing swanky party dresses with an outrageous display of cleavage & equally outrageous make-up to match.They adorned numbers which were used to pick them.
Amidst the maddening efforts of the girls to get picked,I saw a girl looking out of place,staring at her feet & avoiding any attention.Something drew me towards her.
Number 25,I said & she was mine for next 90 minutes.Who says money can’t buy happiness?
Take off your clothes,she said without an iota of emotion & then undressed herself.Her face was pretty,her body chiseled.Her toned thighs & firm breasts made me feel like a starved wolf staring at its kill.But what struck me most were her sad eyes.They hid innumerable stories. I craved to know them.
All through I sensed coldness in her.She never uttered a word & to my questions,her replies were merely monosyllables.The idea of touching a girl without consent was a breach of my dignity.I felt unsettled.For a second I thought of running away.But my mind intervened:
She is a bitch.This is a plan to cheat you.What will your friends think?Just grab her ass.
I grabbed her ass & regretted immediately.She hesitated for an instant.Then there was nothing-no invitation or resistance–only indifference.She resembled a well-maintained machine–with shine & gloss but no life.
I pinned her down & ascended her body.After a few failed attempts at moaning,she stopped that too.I jumped against a dead-body.
Come here to wash.
Do you like your work?I wanted to talk to her.I had stepped on a landmine.Now I awaited the explosion.
No.I hate it.I don’t know you,you don’t know me.Still I fuck you,you fuck me.
I too hate my job,I winked.
She smiled weakly.
Do you even know what it takes to do this?My family thinks that I am a waitress.My boyfriend loves me but I can’t respond to him.He talks about our future.Where is future here?You can change your job.What about me?
What will you do if you get money?I had put on my clothes,but felt more naked than ever.
Anything.Doesn’t matter.I won’t do this.
I hope you get lot of money.I never meant anything more.
Thank You.She smiled.It was a sad smile,accepting my pity,but devoid of any hope.
I rushed out of the room.
She returned to her place behind the glass.I chose a seat from where I could see her but she couldn’t.I kept staring at her.She never tried to look at me.Finally,I decided to leave.
As I opened the door,I heard someone say,
Number 25.
I couldn’t look back.