Right now, the low hedge down the side of his house was the only thing, other than the darkness, keeping Solomon out of sight, as he observed his unwanted visitor. Unhealthily thin, always wearing that same cheap, light blue suit, and with that ridiculous 70s porn star moustache. Solomon bristled at the sight of the loan shark standing in front of his house, knocking on his door, flanked by two burly men. Last time those three made a house call, Solomon wasn’t prepared, couldn’t pay up, and took quite a hiding. The message had been megaphone clear, when the loan shark wants payment, he takes payment one way or another.

Eventually, after sending his heavies to check all the doors and windows, the moustached man in the cheap suit gave up. All three went back to Cheap Suit’s car and drove off. Solomon lay back on the grass with a heavy sigh, and watched the moths dance around the glowing bulb of the streetlamp. He just needed that one crucial, bright idea of how to make some quick cash to keep the loan shark from circling. At least for another week. Man, how did he get so deep into this financial mess so quickly?

By day Solomon toiled on a demolition site. By night he was a disillusioned gambler, forever hopeful of winning back enough to cover the financial hole his bitter divorce had left him in. He was a loan shark’s wet dream, especially now he owed more than he could earn in several months. His next repayment was due now and Solomon barely had a bean left from payday, and absolutely nothing left to pawn. He didn’t even have enough money to gamble with this evening. He desperately needed a second job. And desperate times called for desperate measures, he had to look tonight.

A walk down Main Street bore no employment fruit. Even the local burger joint wasn’t hiring. But the possibility of moustache-man turning back up at the house to take his pound of flesh kept Solomon walking, kept him entering any shop that was open. Solomon found himself inside the local adult shop, the one he’d always smirked at when he’d passed by but had never had the guts to go into despite his curiosity. He sidled up to the counter, almost too embarrassed to look at the server.

“Can I help in any way, Sir?” It was a lady’s voice, and Solomon raised his head in surprise. He met the friendly gaze of a large, middle-aged woman, Not who he was expecting to see staffing a sex shop. He’d expected to see someone sleazy, someone more like his loan shark. 

“Uh…um,” he faltered. 

She gave a warm and slightly amused smile. “It’s okay, Sir, we get first timers in here every day. No need to be embarrassed. Something for yourself or for your lady? Or your man? Or something for both of you to use together?” she prompted. “We have a special on frottage sleeves today.”

“No. No! Nothing. I’m not here to buy anything…I’m here to…” Solomon sighed and hung his head in shame. “I’m looking for evening work.”

“Oh, you’re here to apply for the position at Dishy?” the woman guessed.

“Dishy?” He frowned at the unfamiliar name.

“You’d be perfect. Young and fit and handsome. Mm, mm, mm.” She scribbled something down on a piece of paper. “Are you Arabic? So exotic. I bet some of the ladies will really appreciate the rough look too. You could make yourself some very healthy tips, I’m sure.”

“What?” he asked, taking the paper she held out. It was an address. 

“They’re open tonight. Ask for Olive, she’ll give you all the information you need. I’ll call her now and let her know you’re coming. Ooh, she’s going to love having you on the menu.” 

Solomon stood with his mouth hanging open slightly. 

“Yes, love,” the clerk said. A bent and rather frail-looking woman in her eighties stepped up to place a ten-inch strap-on dildo and a tube of lube onto the counter. 

Solomon made a quick exit from the shop. That was an image he could never unsee. Confused but desperate, Solomon looked at the address and headed uptown in that direction. He’d never been down Fort Street before, an unassuming back road on the edge of town, towards the more affluent side of the city. Number 11. He rang the doorbell and from the intercom a female voice soon answered.

“Dishy.”

“Um, I’m here to see Olive? The woman from the adult shop sent me.” After a pause the door clicked unlocked, and Solomon pushed it open. With nowhere to go but straight up the stairs ahead, he ascended to the top, where another door opened. 

A classy-looking woman with long luxuriant chocolate brown hair, gleaming amber eyes and a mouth-watering hourglass figure stood before him. She seemed a mature woman, but he found something very alluring about her. She ushered him into a cosily lit reception area, then slowly, blatantly checked out his body, which was wiry with lean muscles from his physical job. Her gaze lingered on his face, drinking in his dishevelled black hair, midweek stubble, and intensely deep brown eyes. “Hmm, take your shirt off for me.”

 An odd first request that forced Solomon put his hands up and take a step back. “Woah, look lady, I have no idea why I’m here. I’ve been asking around for work all night, and when I got to the sex shop on Main Street some woman gave me this address. She also said you’d give me all the information I need. So, before I take my shirt off, how about you tell me what sort of place I’ve come to.”

“Jade rang me just before and said she’d sent over someone who wanted to apply for the position.”

“The position of what?” he asked suspiciously.

“Oh, you don’t know? This is a live platter restaurant.”