One Thing A Hooker Loved About Her Work

ONE THING I LOVED ABOUT SEX WORK, (2018 interview)

 

A conversation with a  provider revealed that prostitution, a part of it anyway, temporarily fulfilled a need within in such a way that she found rewards in her work. How so? Are you sceptical? If you’ve ever been a woman or been close to a woman who was not at peace with her beauty you would understand that being desired by men causes some women to feel pretty. There are men who feel that one of the things they are paying for is the right to tell a woman his opinion if her appearance. Young women often do not know that a man does not have to find a woman attractive to be willing and able to have sex with her. Inexperienced woman think men are thinking how pretty they are long after he stopped thinking about her face. We women don’t know how different from women men are as sexual beings. You’d be hard pressed to find a woman who would pay for sex with an unattractive stranger who does not interest her and who has nothing to recommend him except his functional sexuality. People in general have self centered world views and assume what motivates them motivates others. Women assume, if he wants sex, he thinks I am pretty!  She finds the encounter rewarding.But later on… What happens when he is gone? She needs another hit off the reassurance pipe. Compliments are like hits of crack. They, compliments and crack,  feel awesome in the moment of entry into the mind and body.  Unfortunately, the intense rush of pleasure turns out to be a set up as if Satan really did create the crack pipe, which urban parlance termed “the Devil’s D***.”  The fabulous feeling quickly fades in 5 minutes or so, leaving in its wake a deep desire to do it again. And again.  This practice of trying to recreate the feeling of that first hit is called “chasing” here in Hawaii. People can spend their lives chasing their addiction driven personal pursuit of happiness–to no avail. The desire that fuels the chase is called “craving,”  by addiction professionals.  Craving is what people are talking about when they speak of the psychological aspect of addiction. Craving  morphs into the perception of a need, something you’ve got to have. Dependency is the unerring destination on this road.  The victim’s altered brain creates the belief that just one more will do it. Fulfillment can be found pursuing something that always, always leaves you empty and a tad suicidal. If only the drug were stronger, if only the compliment more heartfelt…the addict believes, truly, that to get it right will ultimately result in satiety. “I have all that I want and need. I am satisfied. I can rest.” It will never happen.

The following words describe the chase of a Honolulu provider reminiscing about misspent youth.

2018

One provider took a great deal of pleasure in looking pretty. Or feeling like she looked pretty. She derived even more pleasure from the acknowledgement of her beauty. She loved sauntering down the sidewalk and catching male drivers doing a double take, eyes wide and interested, when they saw her. She loved when cars screeched to a halt beside her on the so called “ho stroll” (the colloquial term for the public street sex workers frequented). Sure, she spent time with men for the money but her motivation wasn’t limited to money. She loved the ego boost she received when people called her beautiful. If she went a day without a compliment she actually craved the praise. She wondered if she needed the props, but quickly dismissed the notion of psychological dependency as absurd. She told herself could quit seeking compliments anytime she wanted. It’s not like she needed people to tell her she was beautiful to feel special. It was just nice. Who wouldn’t like a steady influx of admiration. In a life that was devoid of family (because she was a born orphan) and friends (because she chose the company of substances over the company of people) without companionship from her work she would be totally alone. If she gave up her off track lifestyle, what would she do to endure her isolation. Never skilled at making friends, the fleeting nature of the client relationship was perfect because they parted ways before she could say something insulting. She did not make lasting friends in the sex industry, but prior to her work as a hooker she never had friends anyway. As a sex worker she at least had something, and something beats nothing every day of the week and twice on Sunday. If she was totally by herself would she grow strange (or stranger)like those women with 17 cats. Maybe in a world of isolation her cat conversations would be more elaborate, during which she would not just talk to her pet cat but she’d also hear the cat respond.  One thing that surprised her about men who paid for women’s companionship was how often the men were truly lonely, in addition to being truly horny. What surprised her even more was how much solace working as a prostitute gave her. Every day as she walked to the ho stroll her heart was light and a sense of unlimited possibilities filled her spirit. All of those people who said she should stop hooking, said she was taken advantage of, those people would not be around when she was alone. And none of them ever called her pretty.

 

Published by Harvard Grad elite meets Honolulu backstreets

The story, full of wit and wisdom: Harvard➡Homeless➡Heroin➡Happiness. Past degradation➡present edification.

Your comments shape content!

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: