“The Sunny Side of the Day” by Song Huisu, 20th waver

           It was pitch black when I looked outside the window. The thumping sound outside the door was disturbing my sleep. Damn.

           “You should know that kicking the goddam door is not fun at all when you are to disturb someone’s sleep.” I shouted as I opened the door. It was Maurice, that scrawny elevator boy who worked here too.

           “Gotcha a deal. A stripling.” Maurice had a bad habit of making an appointment when you really didn’t want to. When I woke up in the morning, I discovered that there was not enough money to pay that goddam rent here. It has been only a year when I escaped that suffocating house of mine, and started working here. I just could not leave. Then I spent some of the money to buy myself some breakfast, because I was hungry to death. Afterwards I regretted not buying a bottle of scotch instead. The piece of bacon did no good to fill the hunger. Depressed, I fell asleep for the whole day. I really needed to be alone.

           “Next time, ask me first before asking those gentlemen.” I snapped back. When he got out of the room, I brushed my phony blond hair with my fingers and wore the green dress in the closet. Actually, it was the only clean one I had. Others were still in the laundry. I sighed and went to room twelve twenty-two.

           I waited a moment before I opened the door. I felt really reluctant. Of course, I felt reluctant every time before I went to work, but today was the peak. But I finally knocked on the door. Right after, something thumped inside the room. With some moments of hustling, I met the stripling Maurice has found. I almost laughed at the figure. This scrawny boy looked like he should order hot chocolate in the café, to be honest.

           “How do you do,”

Wow. That was the first thing that came into my mind. I wanted to ask him if he was trying to joke with me. However, I resisted that urge and asked if he was the guy Maurice has introduced to me. With moments of confirmation, he let me in.

           “Want a cigarette?”

           “I don’t smoke.” I didn’t expect much from that boy. He kept asking me my name, my age, where I came from, and so on. And then he finally confirmed that he had an operation. That was it. I turned sarcastic from that moment.

           “You look like a guy in the movies. You know. Whosis. You know who I mean. What the heck’s his name?” He flinched as I sat on his lap.

           “I don’t know.” From his voice, I could notice that he was scared to hell. Now that’s what I call phoney. These boys, they think that they are all grown up and call girls to come to their rooms. But what they do is a million miles away from an adult. Their petty pride keeps them from admitting it. I was not even amused by the effort to make a ‘conversation’ with me. That was the phoniest thing he ever did. Inside, they wouldn’t expect that an actual conversation would be made with a prostitute. They just wanna show off to girls like ‘sunny’, that how elegant they are, and enjoy somewhat peculiar experience that they could exaggerate and distort in, ah, novels or something. Maybe their crybaby diaries, too. I could have stick to his suggestions, but I was really not in the mood. Did he think that if he paid money, he could just manipulate my time?

           “Listen. I was sleepin’ when that crazy Maurice woke me up. If you think I’m- “

           “I said I’d pay you for coming and all. I really will. I have plenty of dough. It’s just that I’m practically just recovering from a very serious-“

           “What the heck did you tell that crazy Maurice you wanted a girl for, then? If you just had a goddam operation on your goddam wuddayacallit. Huh?” He grimaced and told me that he would bring the wallet.

           I glared as soon as he held out a five dollar bill. “This is five. It costs ten.”

           “Maurice said five. He said fifteen till noon and only five for a throw.” Does he know that he really sounds like a whining child when arguing so? Maybe he was not as that rich as I anticipated.

           “Ten for a throw.”

           “He said five. I’m sorry-I really an-but that’s all I’m gonna shell out.”

           I shrugged. Then I had nothing to waste more on this whiny boy. “Do you mind getting me my frock? Or would it be too much trouble?” He fetched me the dress. As soon as I wore it, I stood up from the bed.

           “So long, crumb-bum.”

           “So long.”

           The way back to my room was depressing. What a peculiar guy in the middle of the night. At least I got five bucks for that annoying visit, I assured myself and fell back to sleep.