The University Pimp

“Like no way, my roommate is a transfer from State.”
“Really. What’s her name ‘gain?”
“Kristen. Do you like know her or something?”
“Oh, no reason.”
“This is totally great. Now I know two transfers from State. That is like so cool!”
“Okay, what do you want to go over again?”
“Oh my God! There she is! Kristi! Kristi! Over here!”
Matthew curls back in his seat, looking the other way. This is not how he wants to start his spring semester. He had heard a rumor Kristen had transferred from his old university. Matt had hoped it might have been some other girl named Kristen who also transferred. In Matthew’s mind, Kristen is a fairly common name. However, just to be safe, Matt had made every effort possible to keep a low profile. It had not been difficult, since the campus is so wide and diverse. As the mystery girl walks closer, Matt feels his blood boiling under his skin.
“Hey, Laurie,“ greets a voice Matt had not heard in over three months, “Who’s your friend?“ Matthew’s eyes lift upward, with a dumbfounded look across his face. The deep femme fatale tone still brings a shiver to Matt. He does not want to look up, but he does it anyway. Kristen’s eyes magnify at a familiar face, the first one since her transfer, the last one she wanted to see.
“Oh, I am like, so sorry. Kristi, this is Matt, my psych tutor.”
Matthew puts on a fake grin and waves, “Nice to meet you.”
“Oh, hi.” Kristen mutters as she sits down at the circle table next to Laurie, opposite Matthew.
“Do you, um, like know Matt?
“No, we’ve…we’ve never met, have we Matt?”
“Nope,” Matthew lied. In fact, he knows almost everything about her. How could Matthew forget? He knows her full name was Kristen Taylor O’Connor. He knows she is a sophomore, nineteen years old, and a transfer student from State. He knows she lives at 110 Florence Avenue, across the street from the new Starbucks they’re about to open up downtown. He knows she is five foot five, and a hundred and five pounds, though that may have changed. Matthew also remembers her measurements but that probably has changed as well. He knows her hobbies: dancing, watching repeats of Sex in the City and writing poetry whenever she has free time. He knows her favorite music is hip hop, her favorite food is ice cream, double mint chocolate chip to be precise, and her favorite movie is Cinderella. Matthew knows her inside and out, her likes and dislikes, her turn ons and turn offs, even her shoe size.
“Matt is like a transfer from State like you.”
“Really? Matt, tell me, what did you think of State? The guys I knew there were complete assholes.”
“I dun know. It was okay, though some of the girls were a bit bitchy.“
“Yeah, I like totally hate bitchy chicks too.”
Kristen, on the other hand, finds Matt‘s comments a bit rude. “Well, what did you do at State? Nothing… illegal, I hope?”
“None that I can think of, really.“ An awkward silence grips the table.
“Well,“ Laurie mouths as she gets up, “I gotta like use the bathroom.“ She walks away from the table, as Kristen and Matthew attempt to avoid eye contact.
More silence. Matthew leans back, getting a better look at Kristen. Her merry college disposition had disappeared. Kristen is not wearing any makeup; her lazy eyes are weathered and her face is not as smooth. Her brunette hair is in a ponytail, straight, not wavy. Matthew canot tell if she has gained a little weight; Kristen is wearing a thick hooded sweatshirt and a pair of pajama style pants. In Matthew’s opinion, Kristen is still cute, but it is an adorable and sweet cute, not an attractive and pretty cute.
“Could you stop staring at me like that?” rings a familiar question.
“Like what?”
“Like I’m a piece of meat.”
Matthew apologizes but the widening of his lips told otherwise. One dirty look from Kristen turns Matthew’s face sober again.
“Look, I just wanna…” Matthew begins, trying to strike up a conversation.
“I don’t wanna talk about it.”
“I don’t wanna talk about it.”
He and Kristen continue their stubborn battle, hoping that the other would excuse himself/herself from the table or that Laurie would return. They sit, waiting. Both refuse to utter a word, staring vacantly at the floor. As the minutes turn, the two wonder how their lives would be different without each other.

It was Thursday night, ten o ‘clock to be precise. Matthew gawked at the library clock, waiting for the hour hand to reach eleven. At that time, the State university student’s shift would end, and his bar hopping could begin. Matthew would be so drunk in two hours, he would forget about his tedious library work for the university or the lousy paperwork he had to do for graduate school or the ten page paper for Cognitive Psychology he did the night before class. If not for his job at the library, Matthew would be drinking right now. The senior was clicking away at the computer, looking for something interesting on the Internet. Damn it, it’s blocked. Then, there was a knock on the door
A young girl walked into the library office. Matthew could tell she was a freshman or a sophomore; her small, thin but curved figure, the fresh cheery make-up on her face, and attentive young eyes gave it away. The girl wore a pair of tight jeans with a skin tight white blouse covered by a petite black bubble jacket. With her wavy brunette hair and apple chest bobbing when she tottered, Matthew lingered in anticipation from her glossy fine lips.
“Excuse me, …hi, are …are you Matthew, Matthew Kren?”
“Yes, and you are?”
“Kristen,” she said, holding out her bony hand.
“Hi,” Matthew said, taking hold her frail hand firmly, “And you are here for a tutor?” Matthew suspected she wanted tutoring since he had been doing this job for two years. The girl fit the stereotype: a young soft spoken college girl who gets overwhelmed by her classes and needs a tutor to guide her back to her straight-A status.
“No, I’m a friend of Francine.”
“Francine Kingston.”
“Oh, Franky. Yeah, I know her.”
“Yeah, she told me I could come here to make some money.”
Matthew gave her a look. No, she couldn’t. She did not look like that kind of person. She‘s probably here to tutor but Franky told her the wrong thing. So to be safe… “Um, if you want to be a tutor, you know tutors don’t get paid.”
“Ah, I don’t want to be … a tutor.”
No way. “What did Franky say to you exactly?”
Kristen let out a deep breath, “She told me that if I wanted to make alotta cash without doing much work that I come here to see you.”
“And did she say what position I’d offer you?”
“Student escort, why?”
“And you’re cool with this?”
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”
“No reason, you didn’t fit the profile, that’s all. If you could get the door…” As Kristen closed the office, Matthew reached into the side drawer near the desk and pulled out a paper filled manila folder and a Polaroid camera. He handed a blank questionnaire sheet to Kristen and told her to fill it out. As she scribbled away at the paper, Matthew continued searching the web.
“Wow, these questions are like really personal? I mean, weight and height I understand, but hobbies, likes, dislikes, measurements…shoe size!”
“Yeah, these are just things to help the client to get to know you better and maybe strike up a talk or two. I feel it helps calm the client a bit, and first timers, too.”
“And the shoe size?”
“One of my clients has a foot fetish.” Kristen smiles, relaxing a bit.
“Um, speaking of which, Franky told me something about sex?”
“Oh, don’t worry. Most of my escorts aren’t like Franky. Some of my clients do offer money for sex, but you shouldn’t do anything you don’t want to do.”
“What if he’s …persistent?”
“Then walk away. Make sure you get the agreed amount right before the meeting, ‘cause I’ve had some cases where the client will want sex and the escort doesn’t want to, but the escort wasn’t paid. It’s not my fault if you forget ‘cause I get paid when the client comes to me. I‘m not running all over campus looking for your money?”
“Sure, sure, is that why you have a ‘willing to have sex box’ on the sheet?”
“Yeah, it’s a precautionary measure to the client. Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Yeah, why?”
“I don’t know. You seem too nervous, that’s all.”
“I’ve …I’ve just never done this before. Plus there are ‘other things’?”
“What ‘other things’? Cause I think you might be better off working at a Starbucks or something.”
“Well, like my parents aren’t the richest people in the world. I got loans and bills to pay off and a part-time job isn’t going to cut it. Plus I like wanna go to medical school and you know how expensive that is, and I’ve got no time with all the studying and shit I’ve got to do for classes. Then, Francine told me how she made like two hundred bucks for just taking this one guy out for his frat’s semi formal or something, and he bought her a dress and everything.”
“So this is a way to save money to pay off stuff?”
“Yeah, pretty much. Oh, I’m done.” Kristen handed back the questionnaire. This was the first time he felt sorry for a student who wanted to get into his secret business. Most of the people who signed up fit a certain role: gamblers, drug users, shop-aholics and mall rats, lazy people who wanted to earn some pocket money for bar-hopping. Matthew had never had a person who has given him a good reason for escorting. He had males and females, all orientations, freshmen to seniors, and every kind of background Matthew could think of, all doing it to satisfy their own greed. At first, Matthew was going to send her away, but he pitied Kristen.
“Oh you’re a sophomore?” Matthew said, skimming through the sheet. “I would have thought you were a freshman. Not like it’s a bad thing, I mean, I would not have guessed…”
“Am I done?”
“Ah, no. I just got to take a Polaroid of you. Stand behind that white wall over there.”
“This one?”
“Yeah, …now hold still.” Matthew held the camera to his eyes, and began directing the girl. “I need you to take your jacket off.” Kristen obeyed. “Now, I need you to move to the side a bit. That’s it. Now turn right shoulder to me…no, your other right. That’s it. Now, turn your head a little towards me, not that far, a little bit, there ya go. Now look at the camera, and smile.” Kristen wiggled her lips, trying to force a smile.
“Is there something wrong?”
“Nothing, I just feel like a piece of meat or something.”
“Don’t worry,” Matthew grinned, “It’ll all be over soon. Just give me a big smile.” She forced a quick smile as Matthew snapped the picture, pulling it out of the camera.
“How’d it come out?”
“Give me a sec.” Matthew shakes the picture until the photo appeared. He showed Kristen, who nodded in approval.
“I’ll give you a call when someone’s interested.”
“When will that be?”
“Usually about a week, maybe two.” Kristen stepped out the door. Matthew reached for a paper clip and attached the questionnaire to the photo, slipping them into the folder. Matthew looked up at the clock to see the hour hand had reached eleven. Taking his jacket and the folder, he dashed out the door.

It did not take Matthew long to find a potential client for Kristen. Two days later, in his apartment, passed on the couch, a pain throbbed his head when the doorbell rang. He yelled for someone to get it, but there was no answer. Another doorbell prompted Matthew to yell ‘I‘m coming’ at the top of his lungs . He stretched his limp muscles and pulled on a pair of jeans that were left on the coffee table. Matthew rummaged to the door, kicking away cans and cups that were in his way. A quick glance at the clock told him he only had five hours of sleep.
“Who is it?” Matthew howled in a disgruntled fashion.
“It’s Rob, could you open up?”
“Dude, I like got five hours of sleep last night. Can you come back later?”
“Are you daft? It’s bloody one o’clock in the morning. What were you doing up all night?”
“Don’t ask.” Matthew unlocked the padlocks and opened the door. With his sleek hair pulled to the side, buttoned up powder blue shirt and creamy beige khakis, Robert let himself into Matthew’s apartment.
“You didn’t go out last night?” Matthew asked, yawning afterward.”
“Why yes, I went to Tonky’s until two.”
“Tonky’s? Isn’t that the strip club down by the tracks.” Robert nodded. “And Christine let you?” Christine was Robert’s girlfriend.
“Well, I didn’t ask her.”
“We broke up.”
“Oh. When was this?”
“Two weeks ago. This brings me to my dilemma. I require your assistance.”
“Okay. What do you need?”
“Well, there’s this student/faculty dinner next week and I need a date. I assumed you were the guy to go to.”
“Might I ask why?”
“My ex will be at the dinner as well, so I want to make her jealous. Since we’ve been going out for so long, she’s so friendly with my other girl friends that I can’t convince them to come with me because of Christine.”
“All right, I’ll get the folder.”
Matthew left to his bedroom and reappeared with the folder in hand. He had three other clients this past week for the same dinner. This was not the first time Robert has used his services. Before he was dating Christine, Robert needed a date for an alumni dinner. As much as it bothered Matthew’s conscience, he kept thinking about how he was going to spend two hundred dollars in finder’s fees. Matthew spread out the photos and profiles across the coffee table.
“What are you looking for exactly?”
“Someone new, …and young. Someone my ex will go crazy over.” Robert scans through each profile, grumbling over every little imperfection, leading to his disapproval.
“….Too tall, …..don’t like her hair, ….eyes are too far apart, ….too chubby…” Robert found Kristen’s profile in the pile, and examined it. “Ah, how about this one?”
“Kristen O’Conner? She’s fairly new. You sure?”
“Okay, I’ll make the call later.”
“Good. I’ll be off then.”
“Um, there is the issue of my finder’s fee.”
“Oh, my mistake. How much it is?”
“Fifty? It was thirty five last time.”
“Inflation, don’t know what to tell you.”
“Fine.” Robert slips Matthew a fifty dollar bill. “I’m just curious. How do I get your job?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you make all this money by doing practically nothing. I would like to know what your secret is?”
“Being in the right place at the right time, and extremely, extremely lucky.”
“Come on, there has to be something. Some story. I mean, you could not have fallen into it?”
“You’ve gotta go, I need my sleep.”
“Okay, but how am I supposed to contact her.”
Matthew grabs the profile and hands it to Robert. “Here, memorize it so you don’t look like a retard when you can’t remember your own girlfriend. If she‘s interested or not , I‘ll give ya a call. You can negotiate prices with her.” Matthew forced Robert out the door, then plopped onto his couch. Matthew usually handled business himself, but was too exhausted. If he was not in control, it bothered him. Unable to sleep, Robert’s comments reminded him of the one day that changed his life. Replaying the events in his mind, Matthew could not stop thinking about it.

“Look, man, you gotta help me,” My friend, Randy pleaded to me. I was in the library office, working on some files when Randy came through the door. It has only been six months and the work had become a bit overwhelming. Filing, copying, finding the right papers, more filing; it never seemed to end. If graduate schools did not look for this on applications, I would not be here.
“Look, I don’t know what to do for you,” I told him, tapping away at the computer.
“Well, you know ….girls, I know you can help me out.” Randy had a fraternity semi-formal coming up and needed a date.
“So do you. Why don’t you ask them?”
“Well, they aren’t that good looking. I can’t convince the brothers with them. I need a girl at my level. Besides, I don’t want them to find out I’m…”
“Gay?” Randy gave me a stern glare. He was shy about his sexuality, especially around the fraternity, even though I told him it should not matter. Blurting out his private life in public made him uncomfortable. “Sorry.”
“Can you help me or what? Look, if its money you want I have it.”
That one word chimed in my ear. “Let me see what I can do.” I kept thinking of girls I knew who would be open to this as I scrolled down my cell phone numbers. Francine. She mentioned she needed money and she was attractive; it was worth a shot.
“Hey, girl, it’s Matthew….yeah, I’m fine, listen, remember when you said you needed money, ahuh, well, how would you like to make a ….“ Randy made a hundred and fifty with hand signals. “A hundred and fifty dollars, one night’s work…catch, there’s no catch, just got to go out with a guy for a night…really, you’ll do it?…great, great, I’ll give you the number later…okay, no problem, you can work it out with him, …yeah, see you at dinner, …okay talk to you later, bye.”
“She’ll do it.”
“Yep, I’ll give her your cell later and you can work it out with her.”
“Awesome,” Randy slapped a twenty on the desk.
“What’s this for?”
“Call it a finder’s fee. You got me out of a jam.”
“No….problem,” I said, “Anytime.”
“I got to get back to the dorm. Listen, if anything goes wrong you give me a call.”
“Sure.” After Randy left the office, Andrew Jackson looked up at me and I looked back at the bill. As a grin widened my lips, I began to think of how this could benefit me.
After the semi-formal, news spread through campus like wildfire. Randy referred several people my way. Soon there were so many clients, Francine needed help. Luckily some of her friends also wanted to make an extra buck. By the end of sophomore year, if someone needed a date on campus, they came to me. It did not matter if someone wanted to go down on a client or have sex with them for some extra cash, as long as I got paid. It was a win-win situation. I had a nice income and everyone was satisfied.

Matthew called Kristen later that day. She was a little apprehensive, but agreed anyway. Matthew did not hear from Kristen or Robert until two weeks later in his Cognitive Psychology class. When his cell phone buzzed, Matthew flipped opened his phone and saw it was Kristen. Matthew figured he could call her after class, closing his phone. Then, the cell phone buzzed again, and again; Matthew closed his phone. He pondered what Kristen had wanted when he received a text message. It read: Pick up your phone!!!
Matthew picked up his books and left the lecture, catching a grimace from the professor. Outside the lecture hall, Matthew redialed Kristen’s number.
“Kristi, Sorry, I was in class, what do you want? …No I didn‘t talk to Rob, what happened?… Pregnant. What do you mean you’re fucking pregnant? …Okay okay are you sure it’s Rob’s… no I wasn‘t calling you a whore …well are you going to tell Rob, He has to know it‘s his fucking kid …so if you don’t want it then get a fucking abortion…What do you mean it’s unethical… Oh so killing an unborn fetus is wrong but going on dates for money is fine… Well what do you want me to do…My fault, this isn’t my fault if you can’t keep your fucking legs together… Christ, I fucking told you you didn’t have to do anything… You’re bringing this to the dean… You‘re doing what, Pressing charges to the school? You can’t do this…Shit, shit don‘t do this… please don‘t…let‘s talk about this… no don‘t hang up. Fuck!”
Matthew leaned against a wall, and slid down to the floor. Tilting his head back, he took a deep breath. His heart dropped to his stomach; his university days were over.

The next day, Matthew was called into the Dean’s office for his immediate suspension and possible expulsion to be determined. Matthew spent those days in his bed during the day and going to the bar at night. It was not until a phone call from Randy that Matthew decided to plead his case to the Dean.
With a tape player in hand, Matthew entered the office with more confidence than he’s had all week. The receptionist pointed to the Dean. Matthew could feel chair lower as he and the Dean sat across from each other.
“Before we begin, I would like to show my disappointment in your actions as of late, Mr. Kren. We at this university find the soliciting of sex a serious offense and will not take it lightly. Do know that I have no choice but to expel you from this school, and nothing will change our decision otherwise. However, if you were to reveal some of your confederates, I‘d be happy to put in a good word to the board.”
“I see. Well, I think you would change your mind when you listen to this.” Matthew revealed the tape player and pressed play. The office filled with his interview with Randy over the escort business in the university. He asked Matthew questions like what happened, why he was expelled, and what the escorts did. Matthew lied through some of the interview. He indicated that some of the faculty had known about it, even saying that some had used his services. The tape was about to get into the more detailed question when the Dean stopped the tape.
“What do you want?” the dean asked, still flabbergasted from what was heard.
“All I want is a transfer and I keep my mouth shut. My suspension is lifted and never happened as of tomorrow. I attend school as usual until the end of the semester. If not, a copy of this tape goes to every media outlet in the area and streamed over the internet. Those are my terms.”
“And as for the impending trial with a Miss O’Connor.”
“I don’t care. Settle out of court or something because if I testify, the deal’s off.”
The dean let go a deep sigh. “Fine. I’ll talk to the board.”
“Hey, I want to put this behind me as much as you do.”
“I’ll see what I can do.” Matthew left, taking the tape player off the desk. As he stepped out the door, Matthew heard the dean ask, “Mr. Kren, was all this really worth it? Jeopardizing your education and career over this?”
Matthew did not answer and left the office.

The University Pimp


Joined September 2008

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