6. REVENGE OF THE PIMP - Spring 2015 The next weekend when she drove into town, she texted me from her real number to see if I wanted a massage. She said she was on her period, and only giving massages that weekend. I looked up her ad, and it was now in the massage section. On the previous Sunday when we just talked, she told me she liked oysters. So I said “How about I pay you $250, and we just go for oysters or something?” I never heard back. It didn't even occur to me until I wrote this, that paying a hooker $250 to not have sex becomes noticeable, the second time in a row. It made perfect sense to me at the time, because a handjob is sodomy. I already fucked her twice without a rubber. But she never told her pimp that part. A normal john is going to take the handjob, or say call me next week. And that is what I should have done. I should have fucked her number three before lecturing again. Maybe she told her pimp how I paid $250 the previous Sunday and didn't even have sex, And instead I spent the whole hour talking about how she was a hooker. Maybe he looked in her real phone and saw she had dialed my number that day. And she had been texting and talking to me not regarding sex. And I knew she liked oysters. However it happened, he found out. I didn't hear anything from her. Then in the middle of the week, I got a text from her real number. It said something like “I am the guy who owns this little girl u been fukin. I got her locked up here. And if you don’t send me $2000, u ain't neva gon see her again.” It was so ridiculous. I expected I might get a text like this. And I expected that when I did, I almost certainly would never see the girl again. For that reason, I figured it was a waste of my time from that moment forward, and I don’t remember the conversation as well as I would like. At first I wasn’t going to text back at all, because there was no point. But to spare us both the suspense, I eventually texted back “Oh well, life's not perfect.” I think I then added something like “It is a little pathetic that God made a person so lacking in skills and creativity, that this is his best plan to feed himself.” Or maybe “You are so retarded, you need to add a little retarded girl to your life plan as an upgrade.” Once I get started, I keep writing. I wish I could remember exactly what I said. “Ur like my trained circus animal, doing back flips for $2k.” Some time later, though I don’t remember how long, I got a text from her original hooker phone. She said “He has me locked up in here and he won't let me out. He doesn't know I have this phone.” I told her “Call me.” I wanted to hear it was really her. I didn't hear from her for what seemed like a long time, which is what you would expect if she really was afraid to talk out loud. Then she called and asked me to do her a huge favor just this once and send the $2000, and she would do anything I asked. He told her she is stupid to think any of the guys she has been “seeing” in Miami, would send any money to save her. I told her it would be like me sending $2000 to someone 250 miles away in Orlando, to buy a used car that I have never seen, and I don’t even know if the car even exists. She said “I’m not lying.” The tone of her voice was sincere and defeated and desperate. I estimated the chance he really had her locked up and would harm her, and the chance it was not a complete scam, at about 5%, l in 20. After pacing up and down the street for a bit (I walked out in the street to get better cell coverage) I decided that if the chance was even as big as 5%, it was worth it to send the money. Plus, they would be hooked. Now this guy’s life is centered around me, and I can use that to subvert him and fuck with him in who knows what amusing way. I drove to Western Union and sent her the money. And I texted her that it was sent. Not long after, she texted me they wouldn’t give it to her. And Western Union called me asking a bunch of questions. “Do you know this girl? Have you ever met her in person?” Yes she is my friend. I met her in Miami, and I have known her for some time. “How old is she?”