What the average day at work looks like... when you manage a brothel.

It’s hard to think of a single day that went by where there wasn’t some kind of war stopping drama from within the walls of my new workplace. And lucky me got to play mediator about as much as I played the role of manager.

“That f**king c**t stole my dry biscuits. I can’t f**king work on an empty stomach but I can’t eat anything else cause I’ll f**king bloat!”

Okay.

See what I mean when I say “war stopping”? These issues were catastrophic! And don’t even get me started on the girl who used another girl’s shampoo in the shower. F**k my life. As my love Kourtney Kardashian says, “Kim, there are people that are dying.”

But these tiny dramas would occur, be forgotten about, they’d make up and repeat the following week. But sometimes there are issues that remain, to this day, unresolved.

“Stealing” another girl’s client was about as low as low could get. Or so I quickly gathered.

Enter Gracie. Gracie was a gorgeous blonde 18-year-old with big tits and a fine lookin’ ass. She had started maybe two or three days after me so she’s still a “newbie” until the next girl comes along.

I worked Gracie’s first shift and she made absolute bucket loads. Now I dunno what was happening behind closed doors (I mean, like, I have a rough idea) but she was popular with EVERYONE (with a penis), which meant she tended to be UNPOPULAR in the girl’s room.

In walks probably the meanest person in the building, Kristie. Kristie was your typical sex worker. She was a street-smart lass who ticked off every cliche, like something out of a movie. She reeked of cigarettes constantly.

She slams down her purse full of condoms on the counter in front of me….

“Oi, can you check if my 2pm has cancelled? Otherwise he’s f**king late.”

I checked the booking and realised that was the one I had just changed. Kristie’s 2pm was now Gracie’s 2pm. Naturally, I had to be the bearer of bad news.

“He changed it, he’s in a booking with someone else,” I mumbled, almost hoping she wouldn’t hear me.

She did hear me. She stormed off like a kid who’s just been told Santa put them on the naughty list.

The timer was about to buzz to remind me to call Gracie’s room to let her know the booking was up. One ring, you got five minutes, two rings and it’s done. If I keep ringing and there’s no answer, I go Jackie Chan on your door to make sure you’re okay.

Gracie wasn’t down 10 minutes after the final call. I grabbed the cordless phone and raced upstairs to her room. I knocked, she answered and told me to quickly come in and to shut the door.

“Craig doesn’t want to go downstairs and run into Kristie…”

Oh for fu…..

“Okay, so what would you like me to do?” I asked, almost confused. “There is one exit, the door’s locked and I don’t have a key to it.”

Was I about to pull off some Macgyver type magic from a second-floor building?! You bet your sweet f**king ass I was.

We had ONE shot to get this man dressed (yeah he was wearing a towel, quivering in fear), get him to the nearest exit and all the while, keeping Kristie 110% amused in the process.

I vaguely remember the owner telling me about the staircase out the back that led to the side of the building - but the door to get out was locked. Enter Macgyver - AKA yours truly.

If there’s anything I’ve learned from those daytime movies I’d watch while wagging school was that you actually CAN pick a lock with two hairpins. I tried it in the said door which was maybe 10 meters away from the room and within a few sweaty intense seconds, success!

I tiptoed RIGHT INTO KRISTIE'S PATH.

I was like a deer in headlights.

“Hey, what cha doing?” I asked cheerfully.

“What are you doing?” She glared at me.

“I’m just ahhhh... well, you know, funny story. I got my period just now and I was gonna quickly dart outside to my car to grab my tampons! How embarrassing, gosh!”

“I’ll go down and get you one.” She quickly replied, darting down the stairs.

F**k f**k f**k.

Listen: Samantha X: "I learnt boundaries when I became a sex worker". (Post continues below...)

I raced into Room 6, grabbed naked Craig by the arm and told him “WE MUST LEAVE NOW! KNEES HIGH, KNEES HIGH, MOOOOOVVVVEEEE!!!!”

You’d think the place was about to explode. I had mere seconds to get this poor man out, his willy flapping around, just so Kristie wouldn’t unleash a tirade of abuse onto him. Thinking back she wasn’t that scary.... but the adrenaline felt good.

Gracie and I were able to get ol’ mate Craig into his car with his suit thrown onto him safely. It’s safe to say we never saw Craig again...

As we walked (who am I kidding, we RAN) back inside, Kristie was standing there, arms crossed, and more to the point, with no tampon for me. I cleared out hard and fast.

“Not my problem, not my problem” I was repeating to myself. I had my own “Lalalalala, I can’t hear you” moment. Though I was now downstairs, the muffled argument from upstairs was pretty intense but mostly pretty hilarious.

I’d say about 20 minutes later, Kristie - like a thunderbolt of lightning - grabs her things and yells “F*ck all you bitches, I’m out”.

And she jumped onto her broomstick and flew into the sunrise.

Moral of the story: don’t steal other girl's clients while that girl's workin’ your shift BUT if you or a client needs a quick escape, well, I got your back.

This story was originally on my blog behindtheglass, and you can follow Mariah Williams on her Instagram @mariahlily__