Cruel to Be Kind
My other life — the one I don’t talk about — started with a simple question.Brenda and I were sitting in a noisy pub, sipping our beers, listening to the music, waiting for our dates to come back from the men’s room.“Would you like to earn some easy money, Jane?”“Is it legal?”“Absolutely,” said Brenda with a smile. “A little unusual, maybe. Are you interested?”“I’ve no idea. What’s involved, and how much are we talking about?”“Okay, here’s the deal. There’s this old fart who gets off on wanking...