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Hepatitis highway
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[08/23/99]

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Friday morning, July 30

This morning I got a long-distance call from Roger, a big spender whom I rarely see because he lives in London. "Sabrina," he said (my London clients call me "Sabrina Tong"), "I've a special request ..."

Roger's new mistress, a transatlantic American, is an up-and-coming dress designer in London. "I promised her a three-way with another girl on her birthday," he explained. "We're flying in tonight. Amy doesn't know I've seen you before. She thinks I only have sex with my wife -- and with her, of course."

Oh, of course, I thought -- how is it that I'm perfectly at home with these arcane complications while plagued by the most provincial jealousies in my own love life? I wish I could be Sabrina or Suzy all the time, and shed all those middle-class yearnings for good. Life would be simpler -- but (I can't help feeling) shallower. Oh, God. Why are we always convinced that our hang-ups make us deeper, better people? I hate being middle class!

Nancy Chan: Diary of a Manhattan Call Girl appears in Health & Body every Monday and Thursday. + About Nancy Chan: Diary of a Manhattan Call Girl -- with links to all chapters to date. + Read the Diary from the start.

"How do we explain my sudden appearance in your bed?" I asked him.

"I told her I would call an escort agency. She loved that!"

"Well, I guess I could fake it -- fake being an escort," I added with a giggle. "I don't know much about escort agencies." One of my cosmetic lies.

"Well, neither does she," Roger said. "Could you bring something that straps on?"

"Has she ever been with a girl before? I don't want to scare her."

"Not since college. But she talks about that sort of thing all the time," he assured me.

When I first moved to New York, the escort agency (which I pretend never to have worked for) had quite a few couples as clients. But these days, a "couple call" is rare -- could it be coming back into fashion? Not sure how I feel about that.

Next page | Dissing Matt and discovering a new lover