popular.’
‘Is sex involved?’
‘The mistresses don’t generally have intercourse but the subs are required to provide it, yes.’
‘That’s interesting, but I’d still like to talk to Ebony about it. Can you give me her number or tell me when she’s going to be in?’
‘I’m not allowed to give out the workers’ numbers,’ said the receptionist, ‘but she is going to be at Sexpo this week, from tomorrow. We’ve got our own stand this year. Ebony and our other workers will be able to give you a bit more information.’
‘Thanks.’ I hung up and punched in Kelvin’s number.
He ran a small agency called Extreme Promotions and got me bucks’ parties and pub shows. I could have got more work through the larger agencies but Kelvin looked after the girls, provided security and paid a better percentage. He was a big, cuddly Sri Lankan guy with a penchant for soul music, Sam Cooke and Al Green.
Girls constantly screwed him around because he was so nice.
‘Don’t tell me you didn’t make the show today,’ he said by way of a greeting.
‘Come on, Kel, I’ve never cancelled a show yet,’
I said. ‘I was wondering if you had a stand at Sexpo this year.’
‘Sure do, we’ve got a prime position this time, right next to the main stage.’
‘Do you need promo girls?’
‘Yeah. You offering?’
‘Can I do a few hours tomorrow?’
‘I can give you ten till four but it’s only twenty dollars an hour. Didn’t think you’d be interested or I would have offered you the work. You hard up for cash?’
‘I’m fine,’ I said. ‘Just wanted to get in for free.’
‘OK then, see you there.’ He sounded puzzled.
Soon as I hung up the phone rang. I steeled myself for Sal but it was Aurora.
‘I got your number from Jim,’ she said. ‘I hope you don’t mind.’
‘No. What’s up?’
‘I’m just calling to remind you about the band tonight, Las Vegas Grind? Betty and I really want you to come. We think you’re one of the coolest people we’ve met in ages.’
Me, cool? I’d always thought I was a bit of a dag.
I’d totally forgotten about the invite but figured it’d be a good opportunity to find out some more information.
Plus there would be music and alcohol and dancing, a few of my favourite things.
‘Sure, I’ll be there,’ I said. ‘They’re on at the Espy, right?’
‘Front bar. I’m so glad you’re coming. See you about nine?’
At eight fifty-five I climbed the Espy steps in my faded jeans and pink checked shirt, ready to rock and roll. It was the perfect summer night and when I got to the top I turned and looked out. The bay was black beyond the Royal Yacht Squadron, coloured lights reflected off the water and oil tankers balanced on the horizon, lit up like party boats. It was so beautiful that something like infatuation welled up in my chest, and my eyes pricked with tears. Did I usually notice this stuff or was it that life and death situations made everything more intense?
Jesus. Get a grip, I told myself as I nodded to the Maori bouncer and entered the pub.
The band hadn’t started yet but their instruments were on stage. It was pretty packed for a Tuesday and the audience was mostly rockabilly. The girls looked like Betty with their liquid eyeliner and Victory-rolled hair and the boys wore bowling shirts and gravity defying quiffs.
Aurora waved from the bar and I sidled through the crowd. She stood up and hugged me and gave me a stool she’d been saving.
‘Which do you prefer,’ she asked, ‘Vivien or Simone?’
‘Simone, I guess, if I’m not at work. What about you?’
‘Aurora. I loathe my real name. It’s awful.’ She waggled her champagne glass at the bar boy and held up two fingers.
‘What is it,’ I asked, ‘Hildegard?’
‘Don’t laugh, you’re not far off.’ She handed me a drink.
‘Why’d you pick Aurora?’
‘I love Greek mythology, it was my favourite subject at uni. Aurora’s the goddess of dawn. I actually wanted
‘Is sex involved?’
‘The mistresses don’t generally have intercourse but the subs are required to provide it, yes.’
‘That’s interesting, but I’d still like to talk to Ebony about it. Can you give me her number or tell me when she’s going to be in?’
‘I’m not allowed to give out the workers’ numbers,’ said the receptionist, ‘but she is going to be at Sexpo this week, from tomorrow. We’ve got our own stand this year. Ebony and our other workers will be able to give you a bit more information.’
‘Thanks.’ I hung up and punched in Kelvin’s number.
He ran a small agency called Extreme Promotions and got me bucks’ parties and pub shows. I could have got more work through the larger agencies but Kelvin looked after the girls, provided security and paid a better percentage. He was a big, cuddly Sri Lankan guy with a penchant for soul music, Sam Cooke and Al Green.
Girls constantly screwed him around because he was so nice.
‘Don’t tell me you didn’t make the show today,’ he said by way of a greeting.
‘Come on, Kel, I’ve never cancelled a show yet,’
I said. ‘I was wondering if you had a stand at Sexpo this year.’
‘Sure do, we’ve got a prime position this time, right next to the main stage.’
‘Do you need promo girls?’
‘Yeah. You offering?’
‘Can I do a few hours tomorrow?’
‘I can give you ten till four but it’s only twenty dollars an hour. Didn’t think you’d be interested or I would have offered you the work. You hard up for cash?’
‘I’m fine,’ I said. ‘Just wanted to get in for free.’
‘OK then, see you there.’ He sounded puzzled.
Soon as I hung up the phone rang. I steeled myself for Sal but it was Aurora.
‘I got your number from Jim,’ she said. ‘I hope you don’t mind.’
‘No. What’s up?’
‘I’m just calling to remind you about the band tonight, Las Vegas Grind? Betty and I really want you to come. We think you’re one of the coolest people we’ve met in ages.’
Me, cool? I’d always thought I was a bit of a dag.
I’d totally forgotten about the invite but figured it’d be a good opportunity to find out some more information.
Plus there would be music and alcohol and dancing, a few of my favourite things.
‘Sure, I’ll be there,’ I said. ‘They’re on at the Espy, right?’
‘Front bar. I’m so glad you’re coming. See you about nine?’
At eight fifty-five I climbed the Espy steps in my faded jeans and pink checked shirt, ready to rock and roll. It was the perfect summer night and when I got to the top I turned and looked out. The bay was black beyond the Royal Yacht Squadron, coloured lights reflected off the water and oil tankers balanced on the horizon, lit up like party boats. It was so beautiful that something like infatuation welled up in my chest, and my eyes pricked with tears. Did I usually notice this stuff or was it that life and death situations made everything more intense?
Jesus. Get a grip, I told myself as I nodded to the Maori bouncer and entered the pub.
The band hadn’t started yet but their instruments were on stage. It was pretty packed for a Tuesday and the audience was mostly rockabilly. The girls looked like Betty with their liquid eyeliner and Victory-rolled hair and the boys wore bowling shirts and gravity defying quiffs.
Aurora waved from the bar and I sidled through the crowd. She stood up and hugged me and gave me a stool she’d been saving.
‘Which do you prefer,’ she asked, ‘Vivien or Simone?’
‘Simone, I guess, if I’m not at work. What about you?’
‘Aurora. I loathe my real name. It’s awful.’ She waggled her champagne glass at the bar boy and held up two fingers.
‘What is it,’ I asked, ‘Hildegard?’
‘Don’t laugh, you’re not far off.’ She handed me a drink.
‘Why’d you pick Aurora?’
‘I love Greek mythology, it was my favourite subject at uni. Aurora’s the goddess of dawn. I actually wanted
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