Disappointed, Or What?

I took a call last Friday, late in the afternoon, to ask if I would step in to sit today. As befits my eminence and seniority (ahem!) I was asked to take the Remand Court.
The list was a pretty standard Monday one, with nothing much to catch my eye other than a brothel-keeping charge.
Wow! In two decades on the bench I have never so much as seen the kind of person known to the Met as a 'tom'.
What would she look like? Would she be a matronly Cynthia Payne type, or an Eastern European glamourpuss? What services were on offer?
At eleven o'clock my bubble burst. For technical reasons we had to swap a couple of benches around, so I went off to another courtroom, while a colleague took over my chair.
So I still haven't dealt with a sex worker, working girl, or whatever you want to call her.
Oh well, another day perhaps.