Sana was talking to a whore from Banyuwangi.

‘She been here for two week now.’

The staff would come and go. Do a few tricks, and leave and when the money ran out they’d return back to the shack to spread their legs until their bank balance was looking healthier.

It’s not prosititution.

‘Then what is it.’

Oh Bernhard, he’s baiting me again.

It’s hard working girls who can’t hack it working in a factory.

‘Also you need a car to get to the factory.’

Or a  motorbike.

‘They like sex,’ said the Mad Hindu.

They like sex. Now that was one good reason for being in their line of work.

‘And fucking money.’

The money wasn’t as good here as at the higher end cathouses.

‘Bullshit,’ said Sana. Good to see him being assertive for once. ‘Fitri,’ he pointed to the big titted whore from East Java (just in case I got confused with the big titted whores from Lombok) who had the sweetest smile with the nicest teeth to match, ‘ can earn a million Rupiah a day.’

I crunched the numbers.  That’s one hundred smackeroo Oz dollars.

‘That’s about ten customers a day.’

‘Not always,’ says Sana, ‘could be as  a little as five fucks a day, depending on how charming she is, she can pull in more on tips than the going rate of 50 000 Rupiah per fuck.’

Good point, so there you had it, the whores at the warung were raking in more than the ones at the higher end joints.

Who would ever have thought.

‘Are you researching a book sponsored by an NGO,’ asked Bernie, who was eyeing up Fitri.

Before I could answer, he was out the back and shagging for New Zealand.


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