Rent Boy

by James Anthony Ford

  We both entered an empty office and she slammed the door behind her and said ‘Sit!”. “I’m not dog!” I gasped “You don’t tell me to sit like that, that’s how you tell a dog to sit Sha-ron!” I said sarcastically. Her face was red with anger and so was I. I was furious with the crap I just had to deal with by that arsehole customer. She was furious that I barked back at the customer. I had every right to, he was a prick. Pure and simple. “We at this company MUST be diligent to all our customers!” she demanded with her back straightened and looking at me right in the eyes. “That guy, insulted me Sharon, you heard it for yourself!” I yelled back. “No he did not!” she yelled back. “He did!” I screamed. Then she got off her chair and walked closer to me. I thought she was going to hit me. I was fuming. I had to control my anger. I took a lot of crap from angry customers in this company but this one made me beyond angry. Plus with the way Sharon was treating me. This was not fair. I was not in the wrong. The customer verbally abused me. I had every right to be angry, in fact I should have hung up the phone. But I didn’t, I actually did the right thing. But not according to Sharon. She looked at me right between the eyes and said “One more time that I have to bring you in here and YOU ARE FINISHED!” she yelled. I gave a sarcastic laugh and walked out the room and went back to my desk. For the rest of the day I did fuck all. I sat there surfing the internet pretending to work. I have had enough.

  The next day I walk into work a minute late deliberately. I was pushing the envelope, I wanted to see her reaction. Lateness at this company, even a minute late was not tolerated. It was either a verbal or written warning. I have used up all my nine lives. But I was also feeling quite ill and my head was spinning. I had no energy, and my body was completely fatigued. I tried to ignore it and just carry on. The team were already having their usual team meeting. I just slammed my bag on the desk and casually joined in the pathetic group where they were talking about ‘wanky’ ideas for sales and stuff, I really don’t know. They always did some kind of so-called motivational games and shit. It was so childish, I felt like I was in kindergarten. I just stood there with a smug look on my face. Sharon didn’t even look at me. I was staring at her and thing to myself “Just one day bitch, I’m gonna get you!”

  The team meeting finished and immediately Sharon yelled “Jay!, I want to see you in private, now!” Everyone looked at each other as if to say ‘here we go again’. That’s exactly how I was feeling. I didn’t care anymore and I was just too sick to care. I had no energy to fight her anymore.

  In the room she led me to there was a woman from Human Resources sitting there already and she greeted me with a professional sounding ‘Hello’. I ignored her. I knew I was in trouble again and sat in a much laid back casual position, in a slouched position and chewing my gum. Both Sharon and the HR woman looked at me with some kind of disgust. “Jay, it has been decided by the company that we are giving you a written warning” Sharon said in a professional tone but with a slight smugness. “Yeah so?” I said sarcastically. “Well James, it has been noted that some of your calls are not professional and your behaviour needs to be changed” Sharon said. “You really want to see me fry, don’t you Sharon?” I said slowly but in a deep voice. She didn’t reply she just said “You have to sign this letter after you read it, and I will give you a copy, then you two weeks probation” She continued in a professional tone. The HR woman just sat there writing notes probably quoting everything I was saying. This company would use any tactic to eradicate any threats.

  As I return to my desk all the team members that were huddled around scattered back to their desks. They were obviously gossiping about me being in trouble again. I went to my desk, turned my computer on and slammed my fist on the desk causing it to vibrate. Everyone went silent. I was so angry I wanted to burst. Then I stood up and yelled out “Well go on!” keep talking about me you bunch fucking losers!”. That was it. Sharon heard me and demanded to follow her. Once again, back in the room but not the usual room. It was another room which was actually the executive meeting room which happened to be empty. I walked in with a huge smile on face trying to cover up my anger. Her face was so red. She slammed the door shut. Then she paced up and down the floor huffing and puffing. I just sat there with a smug look. But really I felt deep sadness. “Jay......I don’t know what to do with you anymore, I have given you so many chances, I know you want to do well and go far with this company and this is why I have faith in you, but you and your attitude have got to stop, NOW!” she screamed. I tried not to show any emotion but then it happened. I burst into tears. “I am so sick of being policed like this, everyone here treats me like shit.....I am sick of it!” I cried. She stood there looking at me. “Sharon, unless people here start treating me with a little respect then I am not going to change” I said as tears were rolling down my face. She just looked at me, she felt no empathy for me. She had such an evil look in her eye. She thought she had control over me and was not going to let that happen. “The problem with you Sharon is that you seem to think that just because you are a manager you think you are better than everybody else, isn’t that true?” I said sarcastically. The look on her face changed as if I had just found out her secret. She was shocked. Then she said “Just take a good look at yourself...you’re pathetic!” and then she stormed out the room. I just sat there crying for next ten or minutes.

  I return to my desk and just sat there in silence. This was the end for me. I could take anymore of all this company politics and what was going on inside my head. My life was crashing down. All I wanted what a chance for a career and I was actually really good at what I was doing for the company at that time. It all just did not seem fair that I was getting this treatment from people whom are insecure and bullies.

  For the next couple of hours I didn’t do anything except what I was going to do. This followed with the unthinkable. Taking a deep breath I picked up the computer from my desk and thrusted it down on the desk. Bits of shattered pieces of plastic, glass from the monitor, keyboard buttons and everything else flew in the air in all directions. The sound echoed throughout the office before it came to a dead silence. Then I breathed out with such relief with a slight sense of guilt. Everyone literally stopped what they were doing as it they were frozen in time and this sight amused me. It sounds a bit sadistic but they drove me to this through the amount of discrimination and bullying I received, and with no assistance at all. Next on the agenda was to just walk out calmly. The deed is done and I am going home and I am never coming back. So I packed my bag and left the office early without saying a word to anyone. Casually I walked out, not looking back.

  When I returned home that day I fell onto the lounge room couch and cried and cried and cried. I don’t know what I was really crying about. I knew smashing the computer in the office was a bad thing to do but it was spontaneous act of desperation. Desperate for help and I needed it bad. Then my body had a rush of agonising pain. I reached for the Tramadol, swallowing about 5 or 6 tablets, it was actually three times the recommended dose. But I needed it. I needed to numb the pain. All those hurtful names like “Fag”, “nerd, ‘poofter” and on and on were circulating all around me and I can hear then spoken out aloud clearly. It was painful and I wanted to hurt myself. I reached for another packet of pills and proceeded to take one after the other after the other. I didn’t care what would happen. If I am going to die I would rather I went out with a bang. But as I started getting a bit ‘out of it’ I stopped swallowing the pills. I don’t know why but I did. With my body starting to tremble and about to lose consciousness I reached for the phone. I called triple 0. “What’s your emergency?” they responded quickly.

  “I am about to die” I slurred.

  Then I hung up the phone and fell asleep on the floor.

  …………………………………….

  There was a hard pat on the shoulder and I snapped out of my misery. I looked around and it was him. Bob.

  “So I am right?” he said with a smug look on h
is face.

  “Fuck you arsehole…I am not, never was, never will, be scared of your pathetic, revolting, grotesque…..” I replied before being rudely interrupted by a female voice.

  The voice sounded familiar and I prayed it was not her. But it was. Sharon. She stood next to Bob with a box. It had my name on the box and it was in my handwriting. It was filled with my belongings from my office desk.

  “What goes around must….”she said slowly and sarcastically before I interrupted with a sudden thrust up from the floor, raised my arm that felt so heavy, I was panting. I punched Bob in the face from the right that also made Sharon fall to the floor. That was perfectly executed.

  “…come down?” I then finished with as I stood perfectly still and calm.

  Without any warning, someone from behind grabbed me in tightly a bear-hug. So tight in fact, it was suffocating. It made me black out and I could not see. Then I was falling. The wind as I was falling was so excruciating painful that I screamed. I screamed and I screamed and all I could see were sporadic flashes of strobe lights and the laughter of people with familiar voices. It was evil and this was torture. If I was to be treated like this just because I wanted to end my life then I would prefer to just walk right into the worst and most violent neighbourhood with a dangerous gang, give them shit, and let them bashed me to death slowly.

  “Not yet, not ever”, I heard in my right ear.

  Then I woke up and my right ear was burning red. Somehow I kind of wished that this was real and not a vivid nightmare. I awoke into a reality which is a new type of inescapable nightmare. I really wanted to die.

  …………………………………………….

  Sometime the next day around 12pm…

  After I awoke from a deep sleep on the couch, or perhaps a coma, there was not a thought to what occurred the previous day. All I could be conscious about was that my body was in agony and I was so depressed and miserable beyond comprehension. Once upon a time, I was in an autonomous routine of awaken refreshed at six am, prepare some hard core Java (some call it coffee), then open the blinds and curtains to a blinding but motivating sunrise. Today was different. I did exactly the same things in chronological order. When I opened the blinds the sun was shining but all I saw was literal complete darkness like evil shadow. This terrified me beyond belief and I hid under my doona on my bed for about an hour, just lying there in a foetal position. I know, it sounds pathetic but just telling the truth.

  My eyes were bulging red from the amount of crying I had done the night before. I assumed I still had a job to go to though and realised that regardless of the prior events I need to inform my boss that I would not been in for work that day. But I could not bear to speak to her, so I sent a text message. She would have received the message but she didn’t reply. I didn’t care though. All I wanted was help. I realised I am in trouble. I’m depressed and I need serious medical attention.

  .............................................................................

  I made an appointment with my usual GP who I have a good relationship with and knows me quite well. When I sat down in his office I immediately started to cry. HE didn’t even look surprised. I said that I think I have depression. He said “Jay, I have known you for a while and I could see that your personality was changing, I could see it coming but I’m glad you are admitting it. You can beat this and have taken the first step” he said with empathy. He immediately took action. I was put on anti-depressants and mood stabilisers and was referred to a psychologist for further evaluation.

  I return home from that doctor’s appointment feeling a bit relieved that I have admitted my problem. But I could not erase the deep sadness I was feeling. The sun was shining outside but all I could see was darkness. The feeling of not being at work at this time of the day felt strange. Usually when you take a ‘sickie’ you have some kind of feeling of release. But not today. I felt trapped and very, very lonely. I sat there on the couch the whole day feeling sorry for myself. But I really felt quite hopeless. I felt as if I had no future. I felt that the fact that I was HIV was going to stop my life. And it did. I was a walking disease bomb waiting to go off.

  Days have gone by and I have still not returned to work. I was feeling worse and worse. Life was empty and dark. For days I lied on the lounge room couch, not even watching TV. I was just staring at the ceiling. Then I would go into bouts of such deep and utter depression and burst into tears. I had no idea what was making me cry. Whilst I was crying I began to get thoughts about all the negative things in my life such as my HIV, my massive financial debt, lack of friends, and the one thing I treasured the most and was losing, my looks. I would then go into one massive panic attack. My heart felt as if it was going to pop out of my chest and I couldn’t breathe. I wanted to run away but I couldn’t. Then after a few minutes of breathing into a paper bag, the panic would dissolve away.

  Day after day I spent every day sitting in my apartment thinking about the fact that my HIV has taken away my life. The more I thought about it, the more depressed i got. Then just I thought things could not get any worse I began to dwell on the past history of being abused by my stepfather. A whole cocktail of emotions started to develop. I felt anger, loathing, sadness and even psychosis. I would get so angry thinking about the things my stepfather did to me that I would go on a rampage in my own apartment throwing things around and smashing glasses and screaming uncontrollably. I was going insane. But I needed help, badly.

  The only person that knew about my HIV apart from my doctors was Will. I really did not want to tell anyone else. I didn’t want to tell my mother, not yet. It would just make her worry about me. I know what she is like. I will tell her when the time is right. But I felt so very lonely. So just one day, out of the blue I rang a couple of friends that I used to party with during my ‘clubbing’ days. “Hi it’s Jay!” I would say to Kim. “Who?” Kim replied. “Jay ?......Oh yeah, I remember now, yeah umm, I don’t really have time now..” Kim said unenthusiastically. “Okay, well, do you want to catch up at some stage?” I asked apprehensively. She hung up the phone. I thought the line must have cut out so I called back. It went straight to voicemail but who’s kidding who here? She did not even want to know me anymore and I don’t know why.

  About a day later I saw one of my other friends from a while back down Chapel Street in South Yarra. I called out to him and he ran off like he was trying to get away from me. I began feeling rejected. But I really wanted to pursue this further and ask why he was running from me. I wanted to know why everyone was brushing me off. So I rang him. He answered. I asked “Why did you run away from me?” “Oh ,I, umm, didn’t realise it was you, how are you anyway?” he asked. I thought I might as well just blurt it out. “Well, I’m actually not that well, you might as well know, I’m HIV positive” I said with a lump in my throat. There was a pause and then he said to my shock “Well that’s your own fault, isn’t it?” I could believe he would say that. “What do you mean?” I asked. “Well, after the way you have behaved at all those parties and stuff I’m not surprised, so it’s your own fault” He said. I was so offended that I hung up the phone and cried my eyes out. I had never been so humiliated in my life. I felt like society had just rejected me and I was just another statistic of a disabling sick person who was going to die. No longer did I feel like a human being, I felt like a victim and an outcast of society. If I happen to be just walking down a street and someone looks at me I would wonder if they are looking at me or my HIV. Most of the time I would think they are giving me funny looks because I thought I looked sick or weird. I felt like the whole world knew I was diseased and was avoiding me. The truth is, I was trying to avoid the world. I would try and stay indoors as much as possible so no one would have to look at me. I could even stand to look at myself in the mirror. All I saw was illness and a depressive pathetic soul. I didn’t care about anyone or anything anymore. But I also did not want anyone I really cared about to know what I was going through. I would p
ut on a cheerful persona to my mum so she would detect that I was sad, even to Will for a short time. I wanted to fight this depression on my own for the time being. I was ashamed of it. I was ashamed to have HIV and ashamed to have depression. In fact I was ashamed to be James Ford. The Jay Andrews I knew was energetic, creative, determined, and stubborn at times but deep inside was caring and was also not a bad looking guy with a hot body. The Jay Andrews I was now looking at was now none of what I just mentioned. He is now a miserable, uncaring, selfish, depressive, unattractive and ugly human being. I remember the days that I would just have to walk down the street and have sexy looks from both guys and girls and quite often I would whistled at by passing cars. Now I don’t even get a second glance and people just pass me by ignoring me like I don’t exist. Perhaps this was just a fact of getting older but reality was that I was not ready to be rejected like that.