Nairobi Nights: In My Clients’ Shoes

A day or so ago someone sent me an email wondering how I could get tired in my line of work. This was after I mentioned in my last post that I was planning to take a break. The author of the email assumed that since mine is the business of pleasure, there was no fatigue associated with it. That, however, would be taking so many things for granted.  I will not go to the physical exhaustion that comes with running up and down the streets, too much drink, lack of sleep and such. Though I am experiencing a bit of that, it’s not exactly what I was talking about. I meant what, for lack of a better word, I will call boredom. Some sort of unexplainable low spirits, slackness, and a lack of enthusiasm has engulfed me. I have become a robot like person doing things for the sake of it, without any attachment, emotional or otherwise.

I have been experiencing this for the last ten days or so. The ennui has been building up slowly but since it’s not the first time I have experienced it , I am aware of the tell tale signs. It starts with me becoming careless with my clients. Not making any effort to negotiate better prices or, like I usually do, trying to go the extra mile for their pleasure. Then I become edgy with my colleagues and generally with everyone. Most of the times all I want is sleep all day and night, skipping work. Previously when the weariness set in, I drunk and read a lot. But in the last few days none of that has been happening. I have been sleeping all day, wanting to be alone, and smoking countless cigarettes. I have been to the streets a few times, but being dull and slow, the days haven’t been very fruitful. As regards this blog, I have been slow in replying to emails, messages on Facebook or even updating Twitter. Though I can partially blame it on the absence of a computer, the real reason is I am too gray to leave the house and spend an hour or two in a cyber cafe. (But as always, I will reply to each of the messages soonest I can. )

The good thing is that the boredom does not occur often, and only a few times has it lasted more than two weeks. In the past when the dullness did not wear out naturally, I overcame by taking a proper break out of town; sometimes going to my parents’ home in the village, or in better days retreating to a quiet Christian run guesthouse in Kericho. Because of some complications neither of that will happen this time round.

So last weekend I decided to be a little innovative in trying to kill the lifelessness and breathe new life into myself. I had made some little money on Friday. Come Saturday night I went to a club in Buruburu. I sat alone next to the counter, drinking cold beer and listening to some lousy music. Around eleven in the night, and when slightly tipsy, I approached a man who looked in his mid twenties, and who was sipping beer not very far from where I was seated. I whispered, offering to pay him a small amount to have sex with me. He was a bit shocked but recovered quickly. I hadn’t expected him to say no. After a few more drinks I booked a room.

The man was not a good lover; he was not as adventurous and energetic as I would have wanted. He didn’t help me get the renewal which comes with having sex with a man who doesn’t know I am a prostitute. Perhaps it was the first time a woman had offered to pay him for sex and thus may have been anxious. Whatever the reason, he was a disappointment and a waste of money. Sunday morning I was twice as bored. I am still jaded.

Writer: Sue      Photography: Pangeas Garden