Categories
Honolulu addict life inside view

Look at this… 👀. This is genius for the orphan turned addict

Look at this video… 👀 https://pin.it/6u4vGRC

Genius cleaning tip, otherwise known inline as a “hack”

How do I connect being an orphan with an amazing cleaning method for a car’s interior with Elmer’s glue and baking soda!Easy! I never had anyone take an interest in teaching me maintenance life skills. I had a top flight vocabulary but was completely befuddled about how to separate light and dark colored clothes AND wash a white top with red stripes for one example. I have had to do online research for the knowledge and demos that I continually loop. A life of drugs and family life don’t mix. Naturally, the kids…don’t happen for us (more on this über difficult topic later). Addicted, troubled people like me never really had to learn and develop cleaning life skills in our solitary peripatetic wanderings. Responsible to no one, responsible for no one, not even ourselves, we kept possessions to a minimum. Well, our stuff was mostly stolen by similarly situated women repaying us for our thefts. When what we were wearing got too dirty to make turning it inside out an effective freshening up technique, we would steal something new from Ross’ Dress for Less on Hotel Street. You can understand why we were always so far behind our age group in all forms of development, from social to financial, to every day cleaning.

This life hack might have been interesting to you but to me it was vital. Can you imagine being in my situation?¡

Categories
Addiction and Prostitution in Hawaii

I interviewed pimps, curious about what they had to offer

For those who know what to look for it is easy to spot a working girl

In the late 1990’s and early 2000’s there was prostitution in downtown Honolulu, which was pretty much women, and men who identified as women, who were supporting their addictions through sex work. They might have been addicted to drugs or they might have been addicted to someone who was addicted to drugs. The money was a means to an end and did not actually profit anyone in terms of getting ahead in life. There was also street prostitution in Waikiki. Unlike downtown, this street sex work was not 24/7 but was confined to the wee hours. The women dressed like hookers, while downtown the women dressed like anyone and it was only the fact that they were standing on Kukui Street, the downtown Honolulu “ho stroll” that a person knew they were working. Waikiki women in those days wore 4 inch platform heels that looked like they were made of glass and had fish swimming in them. They never charged less than $200 and they all had pimps who watched them from the “mauka” (or mountain) side of the street while the women strolled the “makai” (ocean) side of Kuhio Avenue. Waikiki women were seldom addicted to drugs. I have been told by women and by pimps that the women gave all the money they earned to these men (who were always black for reasons I never discovered). Sometimes they had a quota or goal but that was not standard. What was standard was for the women to “break themselves” or give every dime to the pimp. Ideally, the pimp took care of everything else. He had housing for all the women, provided them with their needs, bought the one allowable drug–weed, and most importantly, he bailed them out of jail when, not if, they were arrested. There was one woman who was understood to be most important to him, maybe the mother of his children and she was known as the “bottom b***h” and she had something of a leadership or mentoring role for the other women in the “Stable” since she usually had been there the longest.

Reciprocity seems to have gotten lost

I believe that the pimp, sex worker relationship ideally was one of working together. Certainly the women needed someone to handle all of the things outside of work. In a way, now that I think of it, the pimp was similar to the housewife who received her husband’s paycheck and handled the household budget. I bet a lot of guys would not like that comparison simply because they never want to be compared to women, but the similarity is obvious to me. Housewives are similar to prostitutes in that they are often looked down upon as being dependent on men and subservient. These relationships were never meant to be about domination but about working together, but I suppose when there are humans involved interdependence does not naturally rise to the #1 most important element in relationships. Or maybe that is an American phenomenon, I cannot say.

Today the stereotype of the pimp is someone who does not partner with women who choose to work with the men, but as someone who trafficks in women who have no choice in what they are doing, takes all of their money and gives them nothing but what their sick natures demand–abuse and deprivation. I bought into the stereotype because as a young woman I knew no other way to conceptualize the relationship other than the script my society had provided me. I looked down upon women with pimps and thought I was so very independent because I choose to spend my money on drugs, never seeing the irony of my slavery to a substance that far exceeded the dependence I imagined hookers with pimps wanted. I always said I did not have the temperament to have a pimp and I was right. I was not one to endure abuse, nor did I know how to work cooperatively with someone.

When pimps saw me slowly walking Kuhio Avenue in Waikiki, and watched me trying to make eye contact with every man that slowly drove by, they knew I was trying to work the area without representation. I was often approached by these men and for some reason they were never abusive to me, although I had seen pimps chase down women and stalk them all night long because the rule on the street is that if a woman speaks to a man who is a pimp but is not her pimp, he has the right to harass her. Maybe this harassment happened, but not always, and certainly not to me. I thought it was because I put out a vibe that I could not be abused. It is only as I write this post that I consider that maybe the preconceived notion that these men were always violent was wrong. (And I think I am so enlightened! Ha! Let me issue this caveat–be careful of my “wisdom” because there is a lot I do not know!).

I joined society in the contempt for the pimp, not knowing until this moment that I had bought into the racist attitude that regards black men as disrespectful to women. I used to interview them as a joke. “What do you have to offer me?” or “What can you do for me that I cannot do for myself?” Unfortunately, but not surprisingly, many guys, especially the young ones, liked the notion of women giving them money for nothing and they never had anything to offer me other that the joy of having someone to answer to instead of being out there alone. Now that years have gone by and I understand the difficulty of being alone I understand that having someone care about you is worth something and it actually is understandable that someone would pay for that privilege. I am not looking for a pimp now but I would pay someone if I thought I could buy someone’s concern for me. I finally get the attraction of a pimp! And to think I started this post thinking I would tell you about the young man who offered to be my pimp and then rode off on his sputtering moped. Yes, that was funny considering the pimp is supposed to be a man of means. But as I wrote these words you are reading, I learned my own mind and found out what I really thought, how I really felt as a lonely person. I understand why I write this blog now and it is for you, my beloved reader, but it is also for me because I never knew I felt a yearning to have a partner even if that partner had been a pimp. But I was ever the loner and never allowed myself to reach out or to be reached. Maybe if I had been open I would have someone in my life now.

#NewUnderstanding

#lonliness

#how I really feel

#truth telling

#cringing honesty

#vulnerability in writing

#expertescort2018.com

Categories
#LinkstoMyBlog Brutal Honesty Jealouay Political Incorrectness Reputation Self Doubt Shame. The Message

I sheepishly admit to being jealous of a sexy, beautiful, smart woman who is what I am not–successful

https://www.msn.com/en-us/sports/nba/olympian-allyson-felix-says-nike-was-beyond-disrespectful-when-asking-her-to-be-in-female-empowerment-ads-while-privately-disputing-maternity-protections/ar-AALVdic?ocid=winp1taskbar

Jealousy is on of America’s taboos

People get jealous. But we are not supposed to be jealous. We are supposed to be bigger than jealousy, to want the best for others, to applaud the success we ourselves never attained. It is also taboo to admit that we have reason to be jealous because we have fallen short in our own estimation or in that of other people who pass on the belief in our inferiority to us. And we certainly do not, not ever, admit to being in the grip of something the Germans have a word for–schadenfreude–taking delight at the misfortune of others, especially the misfortune of our betters.

Hawaii Street Life: I admit to enjoying living off track and doing things I never would have imagined myself knowing about, much less mastering. I enjoyed my life. But the after effects were neither anticipated nor considered. One of the after effects is that a life pursuing emptiness leaves one with nothing, a nothingness that can be symbolized by the empty spaces on my resume . “I could not translate ‘former sex worker’ into a marketable skill I could put on a Facebook Easy Apply for a particular job,” said one woman who had been on the street for over thirty years and is now teaching other aging former sex workers how to transition from prostitution to pan handling. She is trying to figure out how to make this unofficial underground job training applicable to the above ground working world. And as for me, I am hoping to find success writing about all of these women and myself in order to turn things around for me, and in time, for them too. I am shallow. I wish I were the bigger woman because the bigger woman does not seem tormented by shallow concerns but I have always been the smaller woman. I hope this brutal honesty speaks to you, belovedreaders rather than puts you off.

IN THE LINK BELOW YOU WILL FIND AN ARTICLE THAT REACHED OUT AND GRABBED ME AS BEING RELEVANT TO MY LIFE, BUT YOU MIGHT FIND IT HARD TO SEE WHAT I COULD HAVE IN COMMON WITH SOMEONE WHO COULD BE FEATURED IN ANY ARTICLE, BUT BEAR WITH ME. THIS ARTICLE IS ABOUT AN OLYMPIC RUNNER FEATURES A WOMAN DOING WHAT I WANT TO DO, WHICH IS SPEAKING OUT FOR WHAT IS RIGHT FOR WOMEN AND CHILDREN. BUT SHE IS COMING FROM A P0SITION OF ADVANTAGE COMPARED TO ME.  SHE IS SUCCESSFUL.  I HAVE A LOT TO SAY ALRIGHT BUT AS A SOCIAL PARIAH, EX CON, ADDICT, FORMER STREET PERSON, THERE ARE THOSE WHO WILL NOT TAKE ME SERIOUSLY, TO SERIOUSLY UNDERSTATE THE OBVIOUS. I HAVE HAD A DEPTH OF FAILURE SO GRIPPING I HAVE NOT THE BRAVERY TO SHARE ALL OF MY MISTAKES WITH MY BELOVED READERS WHO HAVE FOLLOWED MY BLOG, HAWAII STREET LIFE, HTTPS:EXPERTESCORT2018.COM.  IN THIS SPACE I ATTEMPT TO SEE IF A PERSON CAN TURN LEMONS INTO LEMONADE BY SHARING WITH OTHERS MY EXPERIENCES AS A HARVARD GRAD ON THE ADDICTION DRIVEN STREETS OF DOWNTOWN HONOLULU.  I HAVE MUCH TO TEACH, AND IF YOU DON’T FIND ANYTHING I SAY EDUCATIONAL, I GUARANTEE YOU WILL FIND IT FASCINATING TO READ OF GRITTY , BOTTOM OF THE BARREL STREET LIFE SPOKEN OF IN THE HOITY TOITY LANGUAGE OF ACADEMIA. I AM THE ONE WITH THE HOITY TOITY LANGUAGE AS I MADE MYSELF AT HOME IN THE BOTTOM OF THE BARREL.  I SO WANTED TO MAKE THE EXPERIENCE OF SOMEONE WHO DID THINGS TO GET DRUGS THAT SHE HAD, IN YOUNGER DAYS, ONLY SAW ON PBS SPECIALS THAT BEGAN WITH WARNINGS ABOUT CONTENT BEING INAPPROPRIATE FOR YOUNG AUDIENCES.

   https://www.msn.com/en-us/sports/nba/olympian-allyson-felix-says-nike-was-beyond-disrespectful-when-asking-her-to-be-in-female-empowerment-ads-while-privately-disputing-maternity-protections/ar-AALVdic?ocid=winp1taskbar