In this economy, work is work and as an unemployed person, I couldn’t afford to choose what I wanted to do. I had looked for a job for nearly one year without any luck and my mother’s patience was running out. We used to argue every day over small things like leaving a spoon in the sink or using too much sugar. At that point, I knew I needed to move out as soon as possible. The only issue was I was unemployed. So, when a friend offered me a job at a massage parlour, I couldn’t turn it down.
Though I still lived at home, I spent a lot of time at my boyfriend’s place. I met a girl who used to live alone and when my boyfriend went to work, I would go to her house and stay with her. I used to wonder how she could afford to pay her rent in such an expensive apartment yet she never went to work. So, one day, I decided to ask her.
“What do you do for work?”
“I work at a massage parlour.” She replied nonchalantly.
I had heard a lot about massage parlours and they were all bad things. I thought it was too degrading. However, the girl convinced me that it wasn’t what people thought it was.
“It’s a job like any other. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.” She started. “Some girls offer special services to earn extra money but massages alone are enough to make good money.”
I was so desperate for work that I was ready to do anything. It took me some time to warm up to the idea but I started to consider it.
“The parlour is actually looking for new girls.” She told me.
“Okay. I will try it out but I have to go during the day so that Dan doesn’t find out.” I told her.
“Awesome. I promise you’ll love it.”
My concern wasn’t whether I would love it. After all, I had done a lot of jobs that I didn’t like before I was unemployed. I just didn’t want to get the reputation that massage girls get. Many consider them high-end prostitutes and that was the last thing I wanted to be. I was also worried about how my boyfriend would take it if he found out what I did. He had hosted me so graciously whiteout expecting anything from me and I didn’t want to embarrass him.
“I’m starting a new job tomorrow,” I said to him.
“That’s nice, babe. What kind of work?”
“An assistant at a law firm.”
“Great. All the best.” He said.
The following day, my friend came to my place after my boyfriend left to help me prepare for the new job.
“Have you shaved?” She asked.
“Why do I need to shave?”
“I mean shave your armpits. You need to be very hygienic and smell like flowers at all times. Pack your perfume and deodorant.” She advised me.
After taking a second shower and drenching my body in perfume, I finally got her stamp of approval and we headed to the parlour. We enter a mansion in the heart of Westlands where we were welcomed by a middle-aged woman.
“She’s so pretty. You’ll be perfect for the job.” She said.
My friend left shortly after and I was left with the lady. She handed me a booklet that had a set of rules and asked me to read through them. Afterwards, she gave me a contract which I signed after reading through it. So far, nothing seemed out of the ordinary.
The place was immaculate with high-end finishing and the staff was equally presentable. I felt comfortable and even excited about the work.
“So, we’re a massage parlour and we offer massages. Have you ever given a massage?” She asked and I shook my head.
“It’s okay. Natalie will show you everything but I need you to learn quickly.”
Within a couple of days, I was a pro and ready for my first massage. Nothing was out of the ordinary. I attended to high-end clients who were both men and women. Every now and then, I would get a client who asked for special services but I would turn it down. The request stopped when they learnt that I didn’t offer those services.
Just as my friend promised, I was making good money from the massage business. It got to a point where I used to pay my boyfriend’s rent and do shopping. He started to get suspicious about my work since an assistant salary could barely pay the rent at that kind of apartment. However, I convinced him that I had started another business.
Eventually, I had to come clean about how I earned my money since he was constantly asking.
“I work at a massage parlour,” I said.
The look on his face said it all. He was not only shocked but also disgusted. He called me all kinds of names and kicked me out in the middle of the night. I had to go and sleep at my friend’s place then went back to my boyfriend’s place in the morning.
He had calmed down but he still wasn’t happy that I was working at a massage parlour. I managed to convince him that it wasn’t a big deal and all I did was massage clients. He accepted reluctantly but things were never the same. He constantly reminded me that I was a massage girl and that he couldn’t trust me.
We broke up a few weeks after he found out about my real job since he was insecure about it. He also found out that my friend worked in the same parlour and asked the apartment manager to kick her out. We ended up getting a place together and we’ve been making more money than I’ve ever seen in my life. Moral of the story: always chase the bag, not the boy.
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