Hernonymous [A Hacker's Diary]

No Moni, Would slut for computer

The streets of India is overwhelming in every possible way, constantly alternating between areas of extreme pedestrian traffic and areas of extreme motor traffic. I have seen more people, heard more sounds, enjoyed more fragrances and suffered more odors than I have in all my life.

The heat out here slowly fries me to ash, it is like the sun is an oppressive entity trying to assert its dominance. I wish I had thought about the weather before I decided to wear this sweater, the only thing that had been going through my mind at the time was " hiding " my plight behind the white sweater's long sleeves.

In the distance, amidst the sounds of cars honking and people shouting curses at each other, I hear a bell ring thirteen times. If the bell is saying what I think it's saying, the time is one o'clock; If that is true, then it has been six hours since I made my decision and yet, there have been no results.

Before I came to my conclusion, other options were considered.

1) Renting out the house: I dismissed this almost instantaneously as it would take too much time, I also dont even know how the whole process works. Besides, how do I go about finding customers?

2) Working a job that doesn't need hands: This was dismissed as well as it would take forever to make something decent. Who would even want to employ me? I mean, without my hands, what can I do?

Hence, my third option. I have heard sex workers make a lot of money and at this point, I really do not care about anything else.

* * *

The oppressive sun has made me like a walking corpse, maybe I should have attached a sign to my chest reading "no money, no hand, would fuck for fair price". Honestly,
where are the pimps when you need them? Why has everything gotta be so hard?

I can't help but miss John; Everything was always simple when all I had to do was type; I could have made this entire journey without even moving my legs, I won't even need this journey if I had a computer with me. I used to hate it then, but If it means getting my old life back, I would be happy to eat all the porridge in the world.

I take a bend and come across what must be a hotel. It displays three women in suggestive poses on a large poster, I hope to become the fourth.

* * *

Fuck it all, I just might go with the house renting thing. The hotel was a total bust, and everywhere after was a total bust as well. It is almost like I just came up here to embarrass myself and waste my time. Those who didn't want to take nude pictures for an online catalogue(which I would never agree to as I'll rather not be ogled at in my absence) wanted to "test run" me( I am not a bus). The hotel said I should come back when I'm "complete", the next two said they need proof that I'm vaccinated against COVID(which I've not really heard of ) and a few said I have to make a down payment.

Needless to say, my life as a slut ended before it even began.

* * *

The journey back home is depressing, I hear the bell again. It is five PM and I'm going home empty-handed. The scenery feels different, there are even more people out and about. I honestly believe I'm lost. The only good thing is, that the sun has decided to stop the torture.

A young boy approaches me with clothes on one arm, telling me something in his language that I don't understand.

I am about to tell him to speak English when three older women join him, shoving even more clothing items in my face. They are all saying different things but I hear the word "rupees" being repeated a lot of times. They are all trying to sell clothing items to me all at once.