Transposed

Today is the first day of the rest of your life.

As I lie in bed looking at her, that is all I can think about. If only that were true for this young woman. Once they get a taste of the money, it is hard for them to quit. Still, the question remains: What do I do with an unemployed terma girl? I have a decision to make: either I go on about my business in Rio or I spend some time with this one. This would become my own version of “The Road Not Taken”.

This has got to be one of the noisiest apartments in Copacabana. I don’t know how the poor thing ever sleeps in the morning. I am up around 7:30, and tell her that I will call her later, and I head to my apartment. It’s a beautiful morning outside. Today would be the start of nothing but beautiful days weather-wise for the remainder of my trip.

I decide that I want to go by and see Bobby and move to a hotel for the rest of my time. Between the breaker blowing, the sheet not staying on the mattress, and the lack of water, I have had enough of my apartment.

Arriving at Blame it on Rio, I speak with Bobby. He is cool and offers to set me up in a hotel, but then proceeds to offer me quite a deal. He has a couple of guys leaving this morning that were staying in a 3 bedroom above Alcazar. It isn’t rented until next week, so if I want it, I can stay there at no additional cost for my troubles.

He walks me over there and shows me this huge apartment with a balcony overlooking Alcazar. In the bathroom, the shower is huge and it has a normal toilet. It has a full-sized kitchen, a separate maid’s area and entrance with a washing machine. I will have my own private maid. Best of all, it has Direct TV in the living room. Needless to say, I take it.


View from balcony



I move my stuff over to my new place and take in the view and the ocean breeze. It is absolutely beautiful today. I call Alicia and tell her I have a new place. I give my dirty clothes to the maid so she can wash them for me while I am gone, and head out to Alicia’s apartment.

I’m not sure what I am getting myself into, but the reality of what happened last night will start to set in for her soon and because of that, I am going to hang out with her today and take her somewhere tonight. There is a part of me that does feel obligated now to spend some time with her. I know what happened was not my fault, but the fact is that if I hadn’t blown into town, this girl’s life wouldn’t be turned upside down right now.

She has to meet her driving instructor so I walk her there and head back to my apartment. After unpacking some more, I phone Sweet to see what he is up to. It turns out that he is sitting at Alcazar at this moment and I am looking at his leg right now from above the canopy. He and Rich get up and wave and I head down. I’ve been wondering where Rich has been hiding out this trip.

Once at Alcazar, Rich is telling me about a new girl he has working for him and pulls out a photo sheet of her. As I am just getting into looking at it, he turns and sees Alicia walking up and quickly warns me to give it back because she is coming. I slip it across the table. (She would ask me later what Rich was showing me and I told her it was his business model.) We all talk for a while and shortly thereafter, I take her up and show her my new place. I’m the MacDaddy now.

We head back to her apartment to get her some things to stay with me and while hanging out, she tells me that her instructor graded my lessons that I did for her the other day. She points out several mistakes I made. (DOH!!!) I tell her that I couldn’t write the shit down fast enough listening to that CD even though she kept going back and forth. Anyway, it’s funny looking at several red marks around my sentences. I try to salvage it by telling her that at least they didn’t think she cheated.

Now, we head back to my place so I can get ready. While getting dressed, she tells me that she doesn’t like my shirt. Once again, it looks “poor”. Well I’ll be damned. I try to explain to her that I can’t bring my entire wardrobe down here and I am certainly not going to bring my best suit. However, she chooses a different shirt for me. Apparently we are married now.

We end up going to an Italian place in Ipanema and have some Brasilian wine this time. She is in surprisingly good spirits at this point. The wine begins to make her a little horny though. At one point she takes off her shoe and is rubbing my cock with her foot under the table.

We head back to my apartment and she wants action, but some of the guys are coming over tonight to watch NFL football on my Direct TV. Don, HS69, and Sweet show up around 9:15.

Trying to explain American Football to a Brasilada is very difficult. I finally tell her that the whole game revolves around them trying to get to that little yellow line every time. At one point, seemingly perplexed at all of the violence she asks, “Aldaron, why do the men blackey hit each other.” Now, I am getting frustrated. I have told her over and over again that in English the adjective comes before the noun. However, the wine starts to kick in and off she goes to bed.

We run out of wine, so Don calls down to Alcazar and has a bottle delivered. The game ends around 1:00, the guys leave, and I head off to bed. Tomorrow I am thinking about finally going up to Christo if the weather is nice.

Umm... you realize that there is pretty much a revolving door between all the Termas and your favorita stayed "unemployed" for about as long as it took her to walk over to Solarium, 4x4 or wherever after you left for the airport? Yeah, you probably do, but reading your story, a much as I'm enjoying it, is kind of liek watching "The Perils of Pauline", I keep expecting you to fall of a mongering cliff....

;-)

BS

Yes, she has marketable skills but it took her about 2 weeks to get back to the grind so to speak. When I said "stuck with her", I was just being silly.

As I said in the beginning, I got knocked off course and went down a path I never thought I would go. This needs to serve as a lesson to some of my other new friends because I know they have had similar thoughts from talking to them. Take it from me.... it isn't worth it. Pay them and show them the door. It's not that I think the girls are ruined or that I am better than them, but it's just that in their minds, relationships with men are centered around money and until they completely walk away from "the life", that's the way they are always going to be programmed so to speak. I see that now. As Sandman told me recently, it is a different culture than what you are used to because they can compartmentalize fucking for love, and fucking for money. One of the funniest things that happens to me down there is to be called safado.... essentially, shameless... by a girl that fucks 4 or 5 guys a day for money. I guess they don't see the irony. I've had one girl call another girl a puta, and they work in the same place. I just have to shake my head at some of the stuff these girls have to tell themselves to get by. As Rich told me recently, enjoy these girls for what they are and leave it at that. After my most recent trip last week, I guess I had to learn the hard way.

Yeah, you have something there when you write about brasileiras compartamentalizing fucking "for love" and for money. Not all do, but I think it amazes them (and awakens their worst mercenary instincts) when they find out that most Americans and Europeans DON'T compartamentalize. I've certainly witnessed enough Brazilian friends "falling for" a prostitute, so they're not immmune, it's just MUCH rarer. And yes, almost ALL G.P.'s in Brazil (as in the rest of the world) have a "Pretty Woman" fantasy, some kinght in shining armour is going to sweep them out of "the life." For what it's worth, most G.P.'s retire by getting married (or moving in wiht boyfriend), even though it may turn out to be only semi-retirement. Still, garotas in Brazil pratically EXPECT their clients to fuck them passionately and then goodbye with no attachments at all.

Again, a lot of this is because prostitution is LEGAL in Brazil, and a pretty much accepted part of the culture/society. A very close analogy is titty bars, where we Americans go and get a lapdance when we're out on a BNO (Boy's Night Out), brasileiros go get laid. Much more fun ;-). And since they've been doing it since the were old enough to get away from Mommy (my first puta was at age 15), they pretty much know the ropes and know that it's all a fantasy. There are exceptions, just like there are idiots who fall head over heels for "exotic dancers" over here. But the game is still the same...

BS