PARLOR DAZE.....(part 3).

This is the happy house
and we're happy here in our happy house.
We've come to play in our happy house.
And waste a day in our happy house.
We're all quite sane.....

So much happened in such a short time period.  Through good days and bad days, busy days and quiet days we lived in our own world of sex and drugs, but  above all friendship.

After my 'incident' with the client Graham gave me an extra job.  Every Friday I would start work at 8am cleaning the Tranny Parlor and then walk around to his private house and spend another 3 hours cleaning and ironing for him.

It was here that I got to know Graham  really well.  His lifestyle, his other 'businesses' and his vulnerability.  He was a weak man living in a tough world.  My shift at his house was always the same.  I would arrive to find him cutting up his weekly shipment of cocaine (of which he would promptly give me 2 or 3 lines) and then start with the ironing, the dusting, the vacuuming and then clean the bathroom.  Every week was the same and every week Tony would be with him - Tony was the strong man in the business.

The house had secret caches of drugs hidden everywhere.  I could easily have helped myself to any of these but never did.  I knew Graham was trying to look after me so I made sure I did the right thing by him.

So I was amazed one afternoon, high as a kite, when a truckload of police arrived at Graham's with a search warrant for drugs.  I denied any knowledge of Graham dealing in drugs and was really amused when the police 'searched' the house and returned with the remains of a joint which they said they found in Graham's bedroom.  Graham never smoked grass but having been tipped off the DEA had to return some evidence.  Graham was paying the right people!

I also started to get given more responsibilities at Brett's Boys.  Often Tony would be busy with Graham and I would take over all or part of his reception shift.  On other days I would be called in on my days off to be the receptionist at Diamond Lil's.

I was part of a big happy family.  Here I would meet my best friend Brett who would become my closest companion.   A vibrant optimistic and loyal country boy from the outback.  We became a team.  Betty and Constance!  In the times ahead we would share many fun times, comfort each other at other times and end up running the whole show (that will come later).

One night Michael, the receptionist, came in really stoned and plonked himself down on the glass top coffee table. Crash!  He went right through it and ended up on the floor in a pile of broken glass.  Betty and I used two broomsticks to hold him still while one of the other boys swept up the glass before we could get him standing and attend to his thankfully minor cuts.

Another night one of the boys crashed back into the parlour after a 3 hour session with a client which had obviously involved lots of alcohol and drugs.  The poor boy made it to the back courtyard before passing out. One of the drags decided to undress him, place his hand onto his cock and blob yoghurt in a trail up his stomach and chest........he was still in the same position at 10am the following morning when he woke up - with a cheering crowd of us laughing and taking polaroids.

Working the tranny parlour was always fun.  The drags always had the best drugs which they would share in abundance.  The street girls and their clients were always a good source of amusement too.  Each room had an intercom so we could buzz them when their time was up.

Most of the girls were junkies and their clients were often drunk so there were many occasions when we would find either the girl or the client passed out in the room - sometimes both.  Then it was always a dare for one of us to go upstairs and throw a jug of water over them....and run back downstairs like hell!  The girls or clients would eventually come down dazed and demanding to know what had happened.   Dripping wet, we would all sit there and deny all knowledge. Often having the temerity to demand an extra $5 for going overtime - this would become our 'grass money' which we would save and then  buy another stick to smoke during the night.

On many occasions we would have to drag some passed out street girl down the back lane and dump them on the street corner a few houses away.  There were a few occasions when we were pretty sure the girl (or  boy) had overdosed then we would make an anonymous phone call to the emergency services and hope the ambulance arrived  in time....

One of the funniest events was when I answered the door to find the police holding one of our boys.  They were explaining to me that the boy had stolen a car and crashed it and that as he was under age and had given our address as his home address where his parents were (I'm quite sure they knew it was a brothel).  Before I could even think of an answer, Betty came running down the hall and loudly told the police officer 'Never seen him in my life before Sergeant'! Then abruptly slammed the door shut in the police  officers face.

We never saw the boy or the police again.

Over time, both Graham's and Tony's involvement in the business lessened to the point where most of our contact was little more than 10 minutes a day when Graham or Tony would come to collect the daily takings.  One day Graham announced that he had bought a 'girls parlour' out in the suburbs and that Tony would be running it.  To my surprise, I was not only offered the full time position of receptionist, but given Tony's shifts.  This actually meant that I had the full running of the parlour.  From rostering shifts and employing new boys to being in charge of the daily takings which I would take to Graham's house once or twice a day depending on the amount of money.  I was even given a key to let myself in and deposit the money into his safe.....

Life was taking on a new turn.