(Pix of model for illustration purpose only)
“Gong Xi Fa Cai,” Wati greets Chow Kah, shaking her hands clamped into a fist vigorously. Chow Kah’s frequent companion, Jessica, the hottest gal in Hot Legs Nightclub is away in Taiwan on a vacation. So, he has booked Mimi, a shy, new-comer on the nightclub scene.
Chow Kah gives Wati and Mimi an ang pow each. Hot Legs Nightclub & Karaoke has been closed for four days for the CNY. Earlier, Mamasan Lulu had consulted a geomancer who said it’s only auspicious to open on the fifth day.
Wati is dressed in a stunning red cheongsam, with side slits revealing her sexy thighs. Seated beside her, Hussein peels a mandarin orange and throws a slice into his mouth. He pops another piece into Wati’s waiting mouth, her scarlet lips, matching the colour of her dress, spread open like an “O”.
“How was KL during Chinese New Year?” I ask Hussein. “I heard you didn’t balik kampung.”
“As usual, it was quiet. With no traffic, I went looking for awek in Cheras and Kepong. Quality of stocks was poor so I ended up with a Russian social escort. With half the city’s residents gone, business was slow for them. So I managed to get a discount. Only six hundred instead of the usual eight hundred.”
Chow Kah grins. “You lucky man. I should’ve stayed in KL. But, my parents’ll hammer me properly for not going back.” Mimi cracks some Shandung groudnuts, feeds him.
Hussein shakes his head. “It was a date gone sour.”
“Oh? How? Bad service from her?” I ask.
“No, she was friendly except for one thing. When I was in the lobby, she came down smiling and escorted me to her room. She called herself Arina. Blonde, just like a centre-fold model. Face, good-looking. But, in the room she dimmed the lights. I didn’t like it, but she insisted. She says she’s new to the business and is shy.
“My mental alarm bell rang. Could she be a transsexual? Sex-change transsexuals pretending to be women always try not to allow their clients to view their artificial womanhood. She didn’t join me in the shower, which increased my suspicion.
”She didn’t want me to see her body. For what reason? I wondered. Anyway, while making love, I tried to fondle her breasts, but she pushed my hand away. She hugged me to divert my attention from her breasts. They looked solid and juicy. But, in a fit of passion, I swiftly moved my head down, and began sucking her nipple.
“I was shocked when her breast slipped down her belly. It was a prosthetic breast. My tongue was licking an ugly surgical wound – a dark and long scar across her former left breast! I almost puke. I rushed to the washroom and gargled with Listerine. ‘You have only one breast?!’ I shrieked to her when I came out. She was torn between guilt and embarrassment.
“ 'Yes, I lost one breast to cancer. I’m sorry,' she said. She retrieved the rubber thing and tried re-sticking it to her chest using adhesive strips. 'You – you still want to continue?'
“She was almost in tears. Crocodile tears or real, I don’t know. I shook my head. For some reason, I was consumed with guilt.” Hussein’s face radiates with compassion as he speaks. “I paid her and left. I didn’t feel good for another reason -- six hundred went down the drain.”
Pity for Arina hangs in the cool air of the VIP Room of Hot Legs Nightclub & Karaoke. Everyone is silent for several moments.
“She shouldn’t be doing this work if she has artificial breast,” Chow Kah says.
“Let’s not judge her,” Wati comments. “Just consider her as a breast cancer victim with no marketable skills and no proper education trying to make fast money.”
/end
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