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Current mood:  bouncy
The phone rings. It's a woman with a hoarse Russian accent.
"Rotem, there's work tonight. Six o'clock. 2 hours. We pay cash."
"I'll be there."
It's raining like hell on my way there. There's little light out but there's a fresh vibe on the streets, like people are somewhat transformed by this flood. A student girl is walking in front of me. She has a pink top, black jeans, and no umbrella. Her face is lowered and her pace is quick. She doesn't look too happy about the way this day is going. I pace up with my umbrella open. It's a cheap blue one, the kind that barely covers one head and is prone to break the first sign of wind. Me and the wet girl are walking a long narrow street. A few hurried steps and I'm at her side.
I raise my arm and shield her head from the rain. She stops in place, still looking at the puddles. Then she keeps walking. Slowly, hesitantly, head down, not sure if that's clever of her but curious enough in order to inure it. I keep it over her head and walk next to her. The rain keeps hammering. A couple more steps and she gets the courage to shift her gaze from my soggy shoes to my face. Her eyes are big and brown. Most girls don't look attractive with rain all over their face. This one does.
"Thanks.", she says coyly.
"Sure."
"Should I be worried about you?", she asks in that tone girls have when they're trying to be cute. She's doing a good job at it.
"If I were you, I'd be more worried about the rain." I reply, "I'm turning left here, you see."
She stands there saying nothing, still sheltered. Obviously she's not in a hurry. It takes her a few more moments of contemplation before figuring out her next move.
"Where are you going?" she finally asks.
"I work at the art school around the corner."
"Doing what?"
"Art modeling."
"And they don't mind you coming in all wet? Look at you."
"Well, I wouldn't be all wet if we quit standing here."
"You're insane." She says. "My name is Len".
At the studio I meet the Russian lady. She sees Len's number across my right arm.
"Lucky night huh?" she says, "You must be on a roll. You can keep your boxers on for tonight. It's the amateur group, they can't handle specifics anyhow."
There are 5 students in class tonight, one skinny boy and four frowsy girls. The girl in the center has shiny red snickers. It's either that or the ceiling for a fixation point. The teacher talks profusely in Russian while waving his arm at me. The girl with the snickers sometimes translates what's being said. It brings forth a familiar feeling of gratitude blended with helplessness. On the third pose I am asked to stretch my arms alongside my body. The translation stops there. Too many specifics.
6:39 PM
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