Martoons

Cast of characters

Fred

Max

A madam

Miss No

1-1-9 dispatcher

*

”Please come in. Most beautiful lady,” said the madam. 

Fred looked around but Max was already back in the cab and had the window rolled down. “Goo-night Fred!” he called. “Merry Christmas!

“Don’t worry – the ajumma take good care of you. If you have problem, tell her and she fix it right away. After, you go home in cab okay? She will pay driver.”

The cab sped off.

* What is Fred going to do? *

Fred was stunned. The madam firmly hustled him inside the building, which looked like the back of a restaurant.

“I like Canada people,” she said again. “I want you have good time so you come back many many time.”

Fred found himself all braced-up. This was definitely not the type of place he’d choose to visit on his own, but sometimes you have to live a little.

He allowed the ajumma to drag him down a dimly-lit hall passing several doors. Audible were truncated grunts, groans and syrupy, adult baby-talk. T

he smell of cigarette smoke was heavy, interlaced with the reek of oppressive, cheap perfume.

Fred was apprehensive and indecisive but he couldn’t back out now. The madam arrived at a room door, knocked on it lightly and directed Fred in.

“Enjoy,” she said. “Go in and relax. Meddy Kool-issa-massa!” (Merry Christmas).

The room was faintly lit with a toned light bulb but Fred could discern the layout.

His service girl was aware of his presence but remained aloof, standing off in the washroom clad in a drab nightgown with her back toward him, primping her hair by the mirror.

Standing just inside the room Fred quickly came up with a strategy that would allow him to live with himself: He’d agree to a massage only. Yeah! That was it.

Massages were actually healthy and he’d always wanted to sample a Korean-style one. Now he felt better about this whole thing.

With his hostess still in the washroom ignoring him, he neatly removed his shoes.

There were several pairs of cheap, fluffy slippers by the door – all way too small for him but he squeezed into a pair anyway.

He puttered over and sat on the edge of the bed. The floor was toasty warm under his feet. This just might be enjoyable after all.

* Will Fred end up enjoying himself? *

*

X-rated Xmas       

Near Mr Go’s apartment.

Miss No wasn’t adhering to her curfew this evening. She’d face the wrath of her mother in the morning; presently there were other matters to attend to.

It wasn’t as if she was out flirting or, as Koreans say, developing ‘skinship’ with her boyfriend; she was staving-off the death of her business.

Surely her mother would understand. Wouldn’t she?

* Do you think No’s mother will be understanding? *

No cursed herself for cheaping-out and letting the cab go (the one that had dropped her at Go’s apartment) – she should have told cabbie to wait.

Who knows how long it would take to hail another up in this corner of town at this late hour?

Despite her burning urge to escape this lower level neighborhood without anyone seeing her, she felt it her duty – as a Christian and as a citizen – to use the phone booth down at the corner and call 1-1-9.

Perhaps Go’s life could be saved – it was amazing what modern medicine could do for burn victims.

She noticed a minor commotion at one of the two phone booths. Ayeesh! Witnesses.

She pulled her jacket collar up to cover most of her face, ducked her head and entered the second booth.

Unconsciously she half-noticed the woman in the adjacent booth.

Huh? Was she … squatted down? And … someone was on his knees there too. A man?

Young people were getting weirder by the day and choosing the strangest places to conduct ‘biology’ class!

* Is that really what they’re doing? *

She slammed the glass door of her booth shut and faced away from the lusty lovebirds.

Emergency was dialed and a monotone, robotic-sounding male answered promptly and began with the usual third degree:

“Who are you Miss? Where are you calling from?”

“Me? I am a concerned citizen. Send a unit to Royal Castle Apartments, Fourth Floor, Unit 44…”

The other end seemed to go dead.

“Hello? Sir? Are you there? Hello? Hello!”

After a few seconds’ delay, the dispatcher came back and cleared his throat. “I’m sorry Miss. I’ve never heard of an address like that. Are you joking?”

* What’s going on? Why won’t the dispatcher accept the address? *

*

Tomorrow: Miss No struggles her way through her call with dispatch.