“Nice,
you sold the Sartre I put on display.” I
said while inspecting the tally. We had
gotten some new books in that afternoon and rearranged the displays to showcase
them. This one sold within a few
hours.
“Oh
yes, I can always sell Nausea if we
have it. Most customers who ask for
recommendations do not have trouble buying it on advice. I think it’s because it’s so short and not
very expensive.” She replied.
“And
a Razor’s Edge, it’s always nice when
a Maugham sells- so few people are reading him these days. Good job.
I’ll see you in a bit.” I handed
her the ledger and went into the café area to check on things and have a drink.
The
café wasn’t empty, but it was far from crowded.
As I poured myself a beer, I noticed Hughes at his usual table in the
corner reading a magazine and drinking a glass of white wine. When he looked up and saw me, he smiled and
waved hello.
“Back
again I see?” I said as I approached his
table and shook his hand.
“Oh
yes, just having my usual wine after a long day.”
“It
seems that they’re all long these days aren’t they? I’m just finishing up myself. You up for a game a chess?”
“Sure,
I’d like that.”
“I’ll
go get the board.”
Richard
Hughes was a big oafish looking Brit with a bald head and bad teeth. He was also one of the only regulars we had. We became friends despite a contentious first
meeting. Back then the Globe had a row
of computers along the wall by the entrance so customers could access their
emails and the Internet. This was well
before Wi-Fi and Internet capable phones, so these computers were fairly busy
most of the time. Hughes was usually
planted at one of them and since their monitors were against the wall, anyone
walking by could see what the user was doing online.
It
was my first week on the job when I met Hughes.
He was at one of these computers.
He was watching gay porn. When I
walked by and saw it, I stopped in my tracks and told him he couldn’t watch
that kind of stuff. He was angry and
protested saying that he was a paying customer and the previous owner didn’t
mind what he did online. I told him it
didn’t matter what the previous owner allowed, there were kids coming and going
with their parents and seeing porn- gay or straight- wasn’t good for business
and it definitely wasn’t allowed any longer.
He was upset, but said he understood and closed the window.
A
few hours later I walked by again and he was back at it. That was enough for me and I told him that he
had to leave and that he shouldn’t come back to the Globe again. He was taken aback by my banning him and apologized
profusely. He assured me it wouldn’t
happen again if I gave him one more chance.
I didn’t like him at all, but he was a customer, so I agreed to let it
slide this once. I never caught him watching
porn again.
During
these early days of taking over the business, I was at the Globe from 8am to at
least midnight everyday. Most evenings, Hughes
was getting drunk in the café. One night,
just after the porn incident, I was alone having a late dinner when he
approached and asked if he could join me.
I said he could and we got to talking.
That’s when I realized that his physical appearance (and porn watching
habits) betrayed a deep philosophical intellect and stinging humor. From that night, if he was around when I would finish with my
daily duties, which was quite often, we would hang out, play
chess and have lively discussions.
Hughes
was in his 40s, from northern England and worked in IT. He managed websites and built networks. He moved to Prague because he hated the grind
that England offered and since he had saved up some money, he could live well
in the Czech Republic even if he didn’t have regular work. When I asked if he was working now, he told me
his only client was a place called Big Sister and he was working there full
time as a consultant. They were just
launching their website and service and there were tons of problems keeping
their network stable.
I
had no idea what Big Sister was and asked him.
He then went on to tell me that Big Sister was a large and sprawling brothel
that was open 24 hours a day and usually had 10s of women working at any time,
but it had an interesting catch. It was
free. Customers could enter and use any
of the women’s services for no charge for as long as they wanted, if they were
willing to sign a release. The brothel
was also an online voyeuristic pay site; so all customer whoring was subsidized
by online paying customers. They had
cameras everywhere and would archive and catalogue videos that subscribers
could access on demand, as well as live stream all the rooms and social
areas.
I
had to admit- it sounded really wild. The
place took the idea from the Big Brother TV show, where people are locked in a
house that is blanketed with cameras and filmed 24/7. They just added the free sex and constant
bevy of hookers and broadcast it out to paying customers around the world. It was fascinating to hear all this.
 |
| Inside Big Sister |
“You
should come with me sometime. It’s well
worth a visit.” Hughes offered after explaining
the concept to me.
“Ahh,
no thanks man. While I’m not against the
idea or business- which actually sounds really interesting- the last thing I’d
want is to be recorded and broadcast on the Internet having sex, especially
with pros.”
“Suit
yourself, but these girls are young, beautiful and really into it,” was all Hughes
replied.
“At
least now I understand why you were surfing porn all the time- it’s your
business!”
Back
in these early days of owning the Globe, I was in the habit of offering good customers
a free shot of Czech absinthe, which nine out of ten people turned down. Not Hughes.
He was a good and steady drunk and was always open for a free shot of
anything. Maybe that’s why he would hang
out with me every night, but I didn’t care, as I enjoyed his company and he
played a good game of chess. He was also
well read, loved talking about literature and film and if the conversation ever
hit a slow patch, he had a plethora of interesting Big Sister sex and whore stories
that he would throw out that would wholly engross anyone’s attention.
He
also had a thing for older women. When
my mother came to visit Prague, I told her to meet me at the Globe around 6pm
for dinner after she was done sightseeing. I arrived an hour late only to find my mother
and Hughes drinking white wine together having an animated discussion.
“Hey
guys, sorry I’m late Mom.”
“This
lovely lady is your mother?!?” Hughes
was visibly floored.
“Yeah,
of course. I told you she would be visiting
for a week.”
“Surely,
she is far too young to be your mother.
I refuse to believe it.” And he
was being sincere. He kept asking
throughout the evening if I was pulling his leg.
Of
course Mom was loving the attention. We
drank a couple bottles of wine discussing life, history, Prague and the Globe
and then we continued the conversation over dinner. We didn’t talk about Big Sister. At the end of the evening, I picked up the
check and Hughes was genuinely thankful.
He said it was the best night he had had in a long time.
My
mother also had a marvelous time and said she really enjoyed talking to my “good
friend” Hughes. From that night and
through the rest of her time in Prague, we met Hughes almost daily at the Globe
and he was full of positive vibes and good conversation, while behaving like a
true English gentleman throughout. He
seemed more like a British aristocrat hiding amongst us commoners than an IT
specialist behind a free sex voyeuristic online brothel.
Months
later, when I returned to Prague after an extended trip to Moscow to learn that
he jumped to his death from a fifth story balcony, I was greatly saddened and much
surprised by the news. It just didn’t seem
like something he would ever do. My inquiries to his acquaintances found that he had run out of savings, wasn't getting paid by his IT clients and decided to end it instead of returning to England or finding a proper job. Nowadays,
whenever I think of Hughes, I think about him during those early days of my
tenure at the Globe and especially that week during my mother’s visit and a somberness
envelopes me. They say that we are all
actors in life and we only show the world the facade we want others to
see. If that is indeed the case, Hughes
was a truly talented player on the world’s stage, as I never once imagined the anguish and suffering he must of been concealing behind the bravado, verve and vigor-
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