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September 22, 1677

Of Prostitutes and Penury

You will doubtless be expecting some sort of an apology from me, after my faithful promise in my last post that I would be more diligent in keeping this blog up to date. You will receive no such thing. Indeed, now that I think upon it, it is I who should be demanding an apology from you: To think that I provide a free service in this diary about my life, which is of inestimable value to the community at large and to those who hang upon my every word, that they might distill the precious nectar of wisdom from the blooming flower that is my prose ... and you expect an apology from me for not updating more frequently. The imposition is almost too much to be borne. You may leave your regrets and imprecations in the comments section. I am quite put out.

Fortunately, my awareness of a greater purpose requires me to forebear for the time being and acquiesce in providing you with that precious insight into my daily life and doings which is, doubtless, quite as important to your moral sensibilities and your ability to face life with courage and Christian virtue as a nutritious diet is to your physical wellness.

Yesterday, at the whorehouse where I work, there was a scene of such chaos and anguish that I had half a mind to burn the place down upon the spot—whores and all—and collect the insurance money. I will not say that I was surprised to learn that Rebecca Fagan, Sean’s she-devil of a wife, was to blame ...

She had been, evidently, to the Crimson Unicorn the night previous under pretence of looking for her husband (who is at present hiding in my home, as she well knows). While there, she took it upon herself to fill the heads of my employees with such poisonous nonsense that it will cost me a fortune to undo the damage she has done. To wit: I now stand accused by my entire staff (and this is a word-for-word quote, I assure you—I could not fabricate such nonsense myself) of “not respecting their boundaries as women.” This notion—whatever it might mean—is perhaps the most dangerous idea to enter a respectable den of prostitution since it was first posited that members of the fairer sex possess souls and thoughts of their own. I have already been forced to increase wages throughout the entire establishment—and I hesitate even to guess at what further strains upon my purse this devilry will lead to.

That is all for now, but you have my assurance (little though you deserve it) that I will post on this and other topics with more frequency and variety in the coming weeks.

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