That was how my encounter with the prostitute XL went on my first visit to Buraco Quente. It was a time when I swore I had a vocation for holiness and meditated on Luke 7:37-38: “And behold, a woman in the city, who was a sinner, when she learned that he was reclining at table in the Pharisee’s house, brought an alabaster flask of ointment, and standing behind him at his feet, weeping, she began to wet his feet with her tears and wiped them with the hair of her head and kissed his feet and anointed them with the ointment.”
On the recommendation of Friar S., I went to meet the sinful woman and found the first evangelization center, “Mary Magdalene.” At 18 years old and with intermittent fasts, I believed I possessed enough strength to navigate between falsetto moans emanating from the bedrooms and ostentatious toasts celebrated on the balconies separating the entrance of the house from the intimacy of the couples. Around me, old and young observed the mannerisms of the prostitutes. XL whispered in my ear that I shouldn't be intimidated by those bodies if I wished to conquer their souls. It was necessary to know the most brutal aspects of women if one wanted to penetrate their hearts.
I was introduced to XS , the woman with hair as black as a grackle's wings, who unceremoniously invited me to her room. How could I confess my purpose to her? Would I be stealing her time without paying for her attention? XL perceived in my eyes the desire and the embarrassment of unnecessary justifications and, taking my arm, ordered: “Friar, be a man, invite her for a drink first.”
At that time, I only allowed myself a glass of sacristy wine once in a while. But I said to her : “Would you like a beer?” She was surprised by my patience, as she thought I was eager to meet her. “With foreplay… it’s more enjoyable,” she said, stretching her voice. Because I was there on a mission, I suppressed an itch rising from my lower parts, but I couldn’t resist a very strange shiver on the back of my neck. Then I began the interrogation…
My glass of beer remained untouched, while she was already on her second.
After a few questions, XS , already looking at the customers, blurted out: “Young man, have you ever had sex?” “Yes, at the seminary we have several fruit trees, and when we want to exercise, we climb them.” As if she were facing a fool, she let out a laugh and pushed my chest with both hands in a childish gesture. I lost my balance and fell backward, arousing her compassion. I got up in a flash, apologizing and already preparing to leave, when XL came to my rescue.
The clock struck 23 PM, and the next bus would be arriving soon. I said goodbye to XL , but not before opening my heart. After the fall, I realized that if I wanted to know xs and bring her into the fold, freeing her from the ravenous wolves, I would have to become emotionally involved with her, going against one of the basic rules of apostolic life and prostitution. Why deny that I wanted xs body and soul? How could I forget her words when I asked her:
"Do men really only want sex?"
"No, young man, many come here just for company."
After saying goodbye, I spotted the approaching bus with its bright destination sign "Downtown." There were no passengers on board. I sat in the last seat and contemplated the string of lights passing by, while XL 's house was just a memory.
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