The following is a selection from Lady Yardley’s volume “Off-Course Intercourse”— a collection of the famous courtesan’s misadventures in the sex trade in New York City.
Andrew was a lawyer in town on business. He had called my service and invited me to dine with him. A delicious dinner, some fancy cocktails, and pleasant conversation. He talked about his legal career and some upcoming cases and I about my aspirations of being an actress and upcoming auditions.
Then back to his room for an hour of the perfunctory duties. When they book a room at the Trump Tower it’s always like that—certainly not hours of nonstop outrageously wild fucking.
I relaxed in bed next to him after his orgasm.
The trouble began when he said—”I used to do some acting.”
A minute later he stood at the edge of the bed, shining his cellphone flashlight on his face for theatrical affect, and bellowed forth Macbeth:
Is this a dagger which I see before me,
The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee!
(Was it intentional that he was holding his flaccid penis in his other hand?)
I have thee not, and yet I see thee still.
Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible
To feeling as to sight? or art thou but
(Intentional or subconscious—he had began stroking it.)
A dagger of the mind, a false creation
Proceeding from the heat-oppressèd brain.
Had I been in denial up until then and not noticed, in his open suitcase on the dresser, the top of a red Make America Great Again cap?!
A long pause (his penis erect now) . . . and then from Hamlet:
The glowworm shows the matin to be near
And gins to pale his uneffectual fire.
Adieu, adieu, adieu. Remember me.
And with that same over-dramatic voice, no longer Shakespeare, now pure Andrew:
I must now go and shower off the impurities of body and soul!
Then, holding the cellphone like a tipped straw hat, he shuffled sideways into the bathroom and I heard the water running.
Having been paid cash in advance, I slipped into my clothes and was out the door before a wet Anton Chekov or Eugene O’Neill could emerge in a towel.
It was still quite early so I decided to go for a walk up Fifth Avenue before catching a cab home. I dropped the red cap into a trash bin by St. Patrick’s Cathedral.
© AleXander Hirka 2020. All Rights Reserved.