Monday, November 08, 2010

How I did not take a walk with a gigolo on hill top and earned `1

Disclaimer: The reason why I am writing this is because I am being paid for it. I hereby declare I do not ever intend to hire the services of a gigolo.

Facebook has little charm for me left. Of course I am not including spying on profiles. I hardly ever check my Facebook inbox. It is perennially cluttered with unread messages from various groups I have joined just for the heck of it. But with more than 800 unread messages, I felt guilty about the clutter. I could sometimes imagine my mother scowling at me, “Clean it up now!” she grumbled. So one fine rainy day I decided to do a little spring cleaning and what do I find? A message from a man called Aah Ooh!

Now going by standard baby nomenclature, no mother would want to name her child after the noises she made while she was in labour – unless of course she had a ball screaming her lungs out. So I halted my ruthless mail deletion mission and started reading the rest of the mail.

“Hell .... O cuty. Greetingz. I am a Gigolo, so if someone in your circle is looking for the same … please let her inform. Looking forward to grab you there.” Below this introductory letter, Mr Aah Ooh he had listed out his chat IDs and cell numbers (all Delhi numbers). Inspired by the great Indian rope trick, Mr Aah Ooh’s professional name was ‘Greatindiangigolo’.

The homework

If it hadn’t been for a colleague of mine, I would have deleted the mail and resumed my inbox combing operation. “Do a story!” she said with her eyes twinkling. Women may never intend to hire the services of a gigolo but are always excited to know more about them and their female patrons (that is if they really exist). So I decided to explore this further.

I noted down the email IDs and blocked Mr Aah Ooh permanently from my Facebook. These were some necessary precautions I had to take. I created a new Gmail ID. My new name was Avantika Rathode. The name was my favourite as I had used it a long time back while I was writing a script for a film in college. My heroin Avantika Rathode was a serial husband killer, who married rich men, killed them and ran away with their money. Obviously the sequel would have her stinking rich, alone, bored and looking for excitement. She was called ‘avlooove’ in cyberspace.

Journos, back off

An excited avlooove then shot a crisp professional mail to Mr Aah Ooh. “Hi I saw your profile on Facebook. I wanna know more about your services.” There, I had written my first mail to a gigolo. As I looked snugly at the screen, a reply popped up. “If you are a journalist, looking for some story, I am really sorry as too many magazines have already published a lot about me. I communicate through sms which u can send anytime. Or else just drop me a mail. As of my services ... I don’t give oral”

How did this man know I am a journalist? I decided not to give up and I replied back; I praised him for his PR skills and assured him that I had nothing to do with newspapers. I said I couldn’t send him an SMS as I don’t give out my number to strangers and asked him if he could do a striptease at a party.

Sugar moms please

“Hmmm, he replied. “At the age of 39 don’t you think I am not so young to do striptease? Now I am only looking for few matured women to offer my services.”

He is 39! I gasped. Was he an out-of work gigolo trying hard to make money? “You are a little too old to be a gigolo. I thought only older women availed the services of young gigolos. Do you have any other job or are you a full time gigolo?” I tried to probe.

“Well, as per gigolo standards, you are free to say I am too old. But what I prefer to say is that I am XXXperienced! Itz not a question of being young or old, women prefer to hire my services because I know how to love and please women by all meanz.” He admitted that sex starved women prefer younger studs. “But not all women are sex starved... I satisfy them physically and mentally.” In this perform-or-perish world, there are gigolos talking about mental satisfaction... strange! Was he really a gigolo or was he just fooling around with women for his own satisfaction... I tried to find out. He might as well be a middle-aged, hen-pecked husband looking for some cyber-space thrill.

Gigolos – fact or fiction

I googled out ‘Gigolos Delhi and greatindiangigolo’ and found that he had advertised himself on various web portals. A few more google pages later I came across articles that said that well-educated men took to prostitutions because of the money that was being offered. But I still had my doubts whether rich aunties of Delhi really hire their services. They can get all this for free. “Historically I am not aware of women hiring the services of gigolos,” says Sudhir Kakar, psychoanalyst and writer. An Australian man once told me, “What Thailand is to men, India is to women. There’s plenty of sex available for them. And they don’t have to pay for it either.” With these points in my mind, I shot another mail enquiring about Mr Aah Ooh’s charges, the reason he was in this profession and the number of women he had ‘please by all meanz’.

Money for honey

“Right now, I’m not attending clients, as women are getting as much satisfaction from younger men without paying a fee.” My Australian friend was right, I thought. “ I am looking for some sugar momz only. I am in this profession simply coz I love to please women by all meanz. It is quite paying as I was getting up 5K + all XXXpences for first 24 Hourz and Mzximum 3 Roundz. As for as numbers may be 700+”

I did a quick arithmetic. Going by his rate, he would have extracted `35,00,000 from the 700 women he pleased. Quite unbelievable, I thought. By this time, I was quite tired of playing Avantika Rathode so I did not reply. A few days later he wrote again. “What happened? I was thinking of having a long and lonely walk with you on a hill in rain.”

Enough is enough

“Too much flash floods happening so it is not a good idea to walk on the hills.” I couldn’t think of anything better and almost spilled the beans. “You talk too much for a gigolo. I heard gigolos aren’t very good with words. I am not a sugar mom either... I am just 26. Are you still interested? If this is a prank please tell me.”

“I am too old to play games,” he sounded like a tired old hag. “It doesn’t matter if you are 26. I am not getting clients due to self-imposed restrictions... so why not? Any chance of SMS?” So now he was okay with 20-somethings! I decided to call him and end it for once and all.

The phone booth

I scouted for public telephone booths that could not be tracked to my home or workplace. I took the metro to Connaught Place and decided to call him from one of the paid telephones at the station. Out of the eight phones I tried, only one was in a working condition. So as per standard procedures, I picked up the phone strained my ear to hear the dialtone and put the coin and dialled the number. “Hello,” a voice called out from the other side. “You asked me to call you,” I said trying not to panic as two drunkards were hovering around me. And then without any notice, he hung up.

I was furious. I took all the pains to call a gigolo and he hung up on me! As the smell of alcohol from the goons became stronger by the second, I banged the receiver and lo... the one rupee coin I had inserted came out of the slot. It was lying there with another coin some poor guy had inserted and didn’t realise that it had come out. I quickly pocketed the two coins and walked off ignoring the goons who were muttering under their alcohol-loaded breaths. I was too elated with the two rupees I had earned just by talking to a ‘gigolo’ (if he was one)! Mr Aah Ooh can now only dream about the walk with avlooove.