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Gaito Gazdanov's Paris / 36
Prostitutes
Every night I rubbed shoulders with prostitutes and their clients, but I couldn�t get used to it. It was too much for me, although I understood that my ideas about these women differed considerably from those that their clients could have had.
I knew them as they were: they took me for one of their own and liked to compare our occupations. �We do the same thing,� was their favourite comment.
In the morning, while returning to the garage, I often took them home after their work. Every time I did this they would offer to pay me in trade.
I always made them sit in the back seat, and not beside me, because they used cheap, strong perfume � something like an acrid solution of bad soap � and their proximity left a sickly taste in my mouth. [86]
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