Addiction and Prostitution in Hawaii

Normal People Have No Respect for My Efforts to Humanize Sex Workers and that hurts!

Wow, what an Ugly Interaction with a big wig Honolulu attorney. Good thing I was prepared, but it still stung.

I don’t mind sharing this bit of my life with you, mostly because no one I know reads anything I write. It is easier to be honest when you’re not being honest with a specific someone. Anyway, I have been involved with a dispute about people treating me badly where I live. I brought the action myself because to be, again, honest, no attorney wanted to back up someone with my “background.” And this “background” always justifies people mistreating me. You might logically ask why I would keep the background in the foreground by doing this blog, and you would have a logical point. The reason I have publicly declared myself a self appointed spokesperson for people who could care less about anyone speaking for them is that I was, first and foremost, trying to find a way to take my record and make it work for me and not against me. This record is the thing that excludes me from employment and other opportunities. What if I could make money off of the stories that I know–what a coup that would be! Do you think I should pretend that I was primarily community minded, that I wanted to be an advocate for the voiceless who are voiceless because people do not care what they have to say and they have nothing to say because they are too busy pursuing their addictions anyway? Should I have pretended to have reached a place of enlightenment that has always eluded me by making myself out to be self sacrificing so much so that I would give up a fresh start in order to establish possible understanding of the outcasts? I could have lied but to what end? There is no fresh start. The internet makes public record so very public. It is not front and center if you google my name, but if you know how to access Hawaii court records, you can enter someone’s first and last name and you can find out their entire legal history in this state. Felony, misdemeanor, lawsuits, divorce–it is all right there if you go to E Court Kokua. There is no need to pay a professional for a background check if you want to access an individual’s legal history in Hawaii, minus family court confidential stuff. I was acting on the premise that “if you can’t beat ’em, join ’em” is a workaround your unfavorable record. If I could repackage my legal history I could get people to see things my way and reduce the stigma–I thought. I thought wrong. I believed I could make money off of my stories, I planned. My plan has yet to come to fruition. Finally, I could make people see the outcasts as people. I could not change people’s views. There was nothing but contempt during the interaction with the attorney who is a member of the establishment with a capital E, Establishment. I could tell he was tripping over himself trying not to reveal the higher minded purpose of my writing, but only because I knew what he was not saying about the intellectual side of my work. But no one else would suspect an intellectual take on street life is being downplayed by one of my detractors! I think for anyone listening to this attorney give his view of me, with the underlying message being I was treated badly because that is what I deserve, I think the most audible part of his speech was his contempt. In fact, his contempt was so strong it overpowered the particular meaning of any word, singly or in combination. I can only remember the feeling, I cannot recall what he actually said. The reality of the inescapability of my life makes me sad. I feel deflated which is a foreign feeling for someone likes me who rides on her energy much of the time. The social skills it takes to repackage my record in a way that is appealing to others, or at least not a complete deal breaker when it comes to knowing me, well those skills fall somewhere in the likablity range and I have never been high on that scale.

Will you dislike the depressing nature of this real time writing? If you knew my depressive self would you keep reading?

I never write when I am in the midst of a feeling but I am doing precisely that. I am trying to correct one of the things I believe has kept my blog from being more popular. I am trying to personalize my writing to give my readers a view into me so that they feel they know me. Me, the person who so desperately wanted to be someone that she looked for prestige outside of herself to fill that hole, but when a Harvard degree did not complete me, I gave up altogether feeling betrayed by what I perceived as a broken promise. I thought if I was successful I would feel a certain way, and stop feeling another way, and that is not what happened. Yes, the great vocabulary was there, for one thing, but belonging to a group, being on the inside–I thought that degree would earn me an invitation into people’s personal lives but it did not. I was not an outsider because I did not have a good enough resume. I was an outsider because of something I was or was not. That is why I tried drugs when they were offered to me, why I gave up on pushing forward in a career. Imagine striving for so long and hard only to end up alone at Christmas, yet again, with nothing but the pity invitation that people with families extend to loners on the holidays. That is where I was in New York City in 1996 when I met some people in a bar who wanted me to try smoking something out of a glass tube. I had never seen such a thing. But drugs–that was incredible. You had to know someone to know about drugs, you had to have connections for a way into the taboo and forbidden. I repositioned my hope to belong with the people doing the hidden forbidden. I thought I could belong there. I did not know drugs were a path to being completely alone and even more self obsessed than I already was. Not even self obsessed, but other obsessed. Obsessed with getting something outside of myself, and an obsession far more all consuming than the desire to achieve. No one would walk the path with me, but I did not know that when I tried the drug. We never experiment by ourselves. We are always presented a picture of how drugs is something special, elite even, and we see it as an opportunity to obtain something we have always wanted but had no hope of acquiring. We wanted to come in, and leave being an outsider behind. It was one of the few truly honest mistakes I have made in my life. I just did not know that all these years later I would be typing these words in a one bedroom apartment that I share with my cat, no people, no friends, no family. I did not know things would end up as they began. Except now, no one cares that I went to Harvard, if they even believe it.

I better keep the real me under wraps if I want anyone to keep reading.

I hope these depressing words are not too off putting. I just got through with the phone conference with the court so you are hearing the raw emotion. You ever hear how bored people are boring. I do know that depressed people are depressing, so I will stop now. The good news is that thousands of people around the world have found me temporarily amusing in very small doses. One must take one’s victories where they can be found. Discovering what people really think of me is a subject best left unexplored. And being real needs to give way to pretending. If I lost you my beloved readers, I would really be alone. So next post will be happy happy joy joy. If not, I will at the very least present you with some energizing outrage! Thanks for letting me share.

Addiction and Prostitution in Hawaii COVID in Honolulu

I have needlessly carried my vaccination card all week in Honolulu

Vaccination passport policy announced

Today is Friday September 24, 2021. This is the second week of the big policy initiative that requires Hawaii residents, at least in Oahu, to show proof of vaccination or a very recent negative COVID test. As you know if you are a faithful reader (welcome if you are a newcomer to our site!) I chose vaccination not bc I am convinced it is safe but bc someone had to try it so we can find out if vaccination works. If I wait to see if others have bad reactions it would be the same, I believe, as saying I want other people to take the risks and I will wait to read the benefits after all the kinks are smoothed out. I did not like what that thinking said about my character and trite as it may be I wanted to be the change I want to see in the world. Besides, I spent years on the streets of Honolulu, not really contributing to society but feeling like I had the moral high ground over other addicts who stole from people. After all, I reasoned, people give me their money and do not want it back. Society should have more addicts like me. That was my thinking twenty years ago. Today I want to make more of a direct contribution.

I invested in a plastic card holder and a lanyard to keep my vaccination card around my neck for easy access when I was asked to present to vaccination card. I fully expected to be carded everywhere I went, like a young adult trying to get into a bar. Imagine my surprise when…

I was never asked to show proof of vaccination

Not once. I went for a minor matter to one of the magnet hospital’s emergency rooms. They did not want to see the card or make a record of it. I went to the law library in Hawaii’s Federal District Court. No one asked, again, not one of the armed security guards wanted to look when I offered the card. Supermarkets had no one at the door the way I expected. Same with Walmart. I had a friend tell me a restaurant would not allow him to eat outside bc he is not vaccinated. I never went to a restaurant, unless you count McDonald’s at Fort Street Mall where no one was posted up like I had anticipated.

What do I know about adequate public health measures?

I have a layperson’s understanding of what we are supposed to do during this crisis. COVID case numbers are declining, meaning, I think, fewer people are officially designated as newly infected every day. The numbers are still much higher than when Hawaii was locked down so are we basing policy on science and data? I don’t know. Just trying to do my part. Things are improving in Honolulu, I am told, though I still have not had illness as a part of my life or anyone I know, thankfully. I don’t think I deserve any credit but just know au have done my part! Only thing is, no one seems to care. Makes me wonder what measures are truly in place, policy notwithstanding. Why are things really getting better?

Late Life Lessons Unforseeable effects of long-term addiction

Addiction caused me to miss basic life lessons in adulting, like car ownership skills

During my young adulthood the only thing I knew about cars was to try to catch the eye of the driver to see if he would stop for me. Cars were what I looked at when I was looking for someone who was looking for me. And oh yes, the four police stings I was involved with in downtown Honolulu began with me getting into a vehicle that was driven by an undercover police officer while other officers watched and followed us. Twice I escaped arrest, twice I did not. I learned much from these experiences and I am sharing those fascinating times from Honolulu at the turn if the 21st century. However, none of those adventures taught me anything about being a grown-up who owns a car (legally!). This is what happened today:

This is my Google Review posted Friday September 18, 2021

I went to Servco Toyota because this is the first time I have ever owned a vehicle and I do not know all the little insider bits of wisdom a person accumulates through experience. I thought the dealership would be the most legit, it would have the parts, and be competitively priced. When I told people my reasoning they laughed. ” Don’t you know the dealership is the most expensive? If you’re under warranty it is fine but if not don’t go there.” Another person said, “I go to Servco for maintenance, Lex Brody for brakes and tires, and I found place on Queen Street for Toyota.” I hoped they were wrong. I dealt with Vince who was very nice. He even waited to see if I was coming to pick up my car but exigent circumstances prevented me from picking it up the same day. I was able to leave or overnight for free. I suppose it should have been free sine they did not do anything. The parts were not in stock and it will take 7-10 days to receive them. What was this $140 bill paying for? The response: diagnosis. That was the cost for them to look at the car and tell me what I had told them when I brought the car to them in the first place. I paid $140 for nothing. Does everyone get treated this way? My paranoia is kicking in and I feel I must disclose to you, my valued readers, that I tend to be unreasonably suspicious and feel insulted over nothing. But that does not make me wrong when I think I detect a rip off. Or does it? Is it reasonable to pay $140 just to have the car looked at? Another friend concluded: “that’s why you support your local businesses, not the big national chain stores. Cross your fingers snd hope the neighborhood mechanic is not a tweeker. You should be able to get a much better deal from a local mechanic who is not on the pipe.”

Late Lessons from this experience

Whenever you are choosing to do something you are choosing not to do something else. I said “yes” to drugs and “no” to adult behavior that involves the acquisition, maintenance, and storage of things like cars. I am over 35 (this is not a math lesson, I will not say how many years stand between 35 and me). I own my first car. Here is what I did not know:

1. Mistakes like parking too close to something, are easy to make, easy to repeat, and get expensive quickly.

2. I knew people would want to use me for rides but I did not expect the persistent efforts to separate me from my car, permanently.

3. If parking is scarce, expensive, far from home, or unsafe, you might decide the problems outweigh the benefits. If you decide to keep the car new heretofore unknown pressure will become part of your lifestyle. Examples of pressure include but are not limited to: the stress of worrying about your car, or the anxiety about oversleeping and the car getting towed from street parking at 6:30 a.m.

4. People do not like to see you make progress. Not all people of course, but more than I would have imagined. Even if what they have is better, they resent you for getting a 16 year old used car with 170.000 miles. The will do everything from look the other way when the car is vandalized, to vandalizing it themselves.

5. People who let me know they need a car will get angry with me for not giving them the car–for free. I know more than my fair share of criminals who would rather take the car (or whatever) from me at no cost to themselves. This is true even if I was willing to work out a shared arrangement.

6. Because you never owned anything, experiences that are my Dane for others will produce feelings if joy and triumph and you will be constantly reminded of how far you’ve come in spite if the sabotaging efforts if others–and self! Every time you change lanes you will feel like a kid on Christmas and you might say aloud, in an empty car, “Caroleena on the go!” And you’ll laugh.

Links to Popular Posts on other sites

People Cheer “Arrests” but there is a lot more to know before we know anything

HPD: 74 arrests made in Chinatown in last 6 weeks under crime prevention program

Downtown Honolulu’s Chinatown is in the midst of a much touted police “crackdown”

I have told you that downtown Honolulu has been one of Oahu’s epicenters for drugs. Years ago I walked those streets in the sincere belief that I could partake in the offtrack lifestyle and no one would be the wiser bc of my good taste in clothes. I am not bragging when I say I was the best looking homeless crack addict on the block in my youth. Please, hold your applause. I have shared with you that I enjoyed my experiences bc the drugs and the risks I took to obtain them were all consuming. Self pity was in the back burner and my orphan status did not cause me to stand out from my peers bc most were alienated from their families. None of this psychological relief would have been possible without a centralized location for all of the elements of this lifestyle. This is the reasoning of an adolescent. The community does not want to be sacrificed at the altar of my self worship. It really is for the best to get the crime off the street and force people to do what normal people do–pursue their behavioral deviations from the accepted norm behind closed doors. No one gets influenced to follow the examples of people smoking crack, ice, or heroin in public. People were once deeply disturbed by such displays, which were absolutely commonplace during 1990’s. These people can relax and focus on something other than cleaning up the streets–like promoting small business.

I understand why people Cheer Arrests, but my insider’s knowledge of “the system” causes me to worry

Yes, let us get the crime off the street. But we actually do need to consider where it goes. I have heard,”they don’t care where you go as long as you get up out of here.” People discover they need to see the follow through for the much touted arrests. According to the linked article lots of homeless have been arrested. Those are likely to be petty misdemeanor arrests meant to convey that the homeless will have a rough go of it in this hostile place. Loitering, littering, jaywalking, camping, lying on the sidewalk. When Rudolph Giuliani was mayor of NYC these nuisance crimes were aggressively pursued with the (reported) results that the little crimes were committed by big time criminals. Felons were rooted out, the community was safer. Yadda yadda yadda…

I do not know if that was true in NYC but in Honolulu nuisance crimes are committed by people who are more nuisances than criminals. They get arrested and released in the morning in a repetitious cycle that churns a lot of paperwork. It is a good thing there is a lot of paperwork to give the Honolulu Police Department work to justify all the COVID relief money they paid their members as excessive overtime. Some would call it fraud. Is this “crackdown” as nothing but a chance to say to the community:

Don’t think HPD is just lavishly spending relief money on all terrain vehicles officers ride on the sidewalk during their unjustifiable overtime. HPD is lavishly spending and making arrests that tax payers find comforting.

The author’s cynical interpretation of the big crime fighting initiative

Maybe I am wrong about the need for real change

As long as the public thinks it’s safety has improved that’s what really matters. No matter what anyone does, the interpretation of the actions is how people experience them. Did you read the linked article about how River Street is totally clear. It was home to mainly alcoholics for over 20 years. The street really looks different, that is true. Did the homeless go “away?” Yes, if “away” means a block toward Diamond Head. Now they bed down by Maunakea Marketplace, on Hotel Street. The only traffic on Hotel Street is the bus. The drivers who see River Street will be impressed by the enormous change –in that spot.

I almost forgot! I did notice a change in the homeless population due to this police initiative. There are more people wearng a jumpsuit made out of sturdy paper-like material. If a person is arrested without appropriate attire the officers in cellblock give him or her a paper suit. People with nothing stay in the paper suit days after their arrest because their belongings are often disposed of by the arresting officers. Yes, there is a new fashion by Maunakea Market. That’s what arrests profit society members who ask no questions about the criminal justice system if it does not touch them personally.

How does it feel to be a sex worker

“How do you feel” is a question that enrages sex workers

I have talked to a lot of women in Honolulu

I don’t ask specific questions. I simply mention that I have a blog where I want to feature the experiences and humanity of addicted women on the streets of Honolulu. They are not all sex workers. They are not exclusively sex workers. Most women have a patchwork method of supporting themselves and sex work is just one part. So when I ask about their experiences they do not always talk about trading favors with men.

When they do find themselves trading favors there is one thing they steadfastly refuse to do:

The women I have spoken to reported that they refused to show emotion.

I get paid to do something. I do not get paid to act as though I like it.

According to one veteran of downtown Honolulu’s streets

I hate when they ask me what I like. If they want to please me, just give me the money and leave me alone!

A part time sex worker, expressing skepticism about men who claim to be interested in her.

These women articulate a complex, and seemingly contradictory set of emotions they feel towards the men they need to survive. Certainly the women take pride in getting dates, having regulars. Some of the guys they come to know and like. But it appears almost unanimous that the women hated doing the actual work. One could say that biologically, in terms of evolution, one night stands do not contribute to women’s reproductive success bc women need the support of committed relationships to succeed in raising children. Therefore women are hard wired to dislike meaningless sex. Men, many of them, can enjoy meaningless sex, while having a full-time relationship. Women in the sex industry are trying to act like men in a way. But they cannot really pull off sex without emotion. The women can do it, but they hate it. And by extension sometimes hate the very men they need. That’s why, I believe, they can steal from their dates (talking about those women who do.).

I have yet to find a woman who enjoys the work. Now that I think about it, I have never asked the transgender women. Men always speculate that they would enjoy being sex workers. I will go to the closest people to make sex workers to see if they enjoy their work. The women do not. Surprising or not?

Links to my blog, Honolulu Homeless news, paradigm shift

Incomplete story about downtown Honolulu Homeless:

Oahu’s Homeless On the Move

One person can ruin things for everyone. That is most true regarding what people know about the homeless. I know a few people who stayed outside on River Street. One person might leave a mess but here is something people do not know. The reason people can stay in front of the same businesses, for years sometimes, is bc they guard the place. There are people who have verbal agreements to take care, and they do. Almost everyone I have seen makes it a point to clean up. They know what will happen if they do not. So do not blame homeless people with addictions for creating the public nuisance problems. By and large it is not them.

Now and then I make it a point to check on a lady who is much kinder than I am. Her life is far more difficult but her attitude is better and she does not at all have my misanthropic tendencies. Just bc you live inside does not mean you are happier or more together than everyone who is homeless. When I find myself getting too bitter, as is my habit, I seek out this more balanced person. I’m especially sensitive to racism and misogyny. What others overlook infuriates me. I know, I know, I’m working on it. This woman who feels comfortable with outcasts like me, she helps.

This is the kind of balance I would like to see in the news. I don’t think the news is fake. It is incomplete. There’s a way to say only the truth to create a false impression. Emphasis and omission are journalistic tools that allow them to feel they are reporting the news and not editorializing. I change my mind. I guess the news is fake but not bc they lie. My goal in this blog is to bring not only humanity to the outcasts but to show the gifts within a population people do not see as fully human.

Criminal Justice system Criminal Records Honolulu jail Links to my blog, shared Pocket Story, Author Comments prison in hawaii Quora Link

Lessons from Journey: Harvard to Handcuffs, A Big Hit

Tens of thousands of readers

I always believed if I could get the right platform people would read my writing. Here is a sample of the offshoot of this blog:

If you go to and search within the site for my content. You’ll agree with the thousands of others who like the content.

Addiction and Prostitution in Hawaii

Working girls and $ from certain men

Relationship based financial assistance is wonderful. So much better than favor based financial assistance. When you receive payment for doing something, well, that is necessarily limited to the action–and how long the person wants to receive the favor from you. In my experience people never pay for favors ahead of time. After all, who is to say the person will want you, out of everyone, to do the job. I have relationship based financial assistance. Every working girl I have spoken to on the subject has told me she has had one or more guys who helped her out with money. Because she needed it. Not because she had done a specific thing for which she was receiving a specific amount of money. I would never have thought such a thing was possible. It is not even like Pretty Woman, the movie, because if you recall, in the beginning she was paid for favors. No, this is better bc this is closer to…affection. I have had two guys help me like that. The first I met when I first rescued a tiny baby kitten. He was a cat lover and offered to give me and the wee kitten a ride to the Humane Society to have the kitten’s rash examined. When we arrived we were summarily ordered to get out bc the kitten was obviously infested with parasites and we were not to return unless the kitten had vet treatment. Embarrassed, the guy said “I will pay for it,” as I bundled the kitten and fled. From then on he showed up every week to drop $200 for the kitten’s upkeep. Even after her scabies were cured he kept delivering money, sometimes more if I asked. This went on for over a year until one day he said he was getting out of the hobby and wouldn’t be coming by. I was not too surprised bc sometimes when he dropped off money he looked like he wanted to get away fast. That was the thing about this kind of support, the relationship kind. People move on. True for everyone but especially true with a man who cannot acknowledge you in public. The second guy, that was emergency based requests. Not many, but he was definitely there and he gave without hedging or guilt tripping. Technically, I suppose he would still be there. But better not to ask and assume the answer would be yes. Like the cat in a box with a vial of poison. As long as you do not open the box to limit yourself to the knowledge of what is, you can always believe the cat is alive though you know it could be dead. In some cases it is best not to know what is while you enjoy the possibility of what could be. That’s what it is like depending on relationships when such dependence is scary bc you have mostly been ineligible (apparently) for commitment. Tenuous hope best maintained by not pushing it. While being grateful you have even that much.

unlikely relationships

From Trick to Friend, loneliness motivates me to make the change

Attraction not Promotion

AA does not advertise. Meetings don’t recruit members. People look for meetings. I have always maintained that philosophy with clients. I shouldn’t say always. I experimented with reaching out to people who had posted about me on a discussion site. I was instantly branded a weirdo and people told each other they had blocked me

I never reached out to strangers again. But as for the people I have known for years, I do contact them first. When something good or new or exciting happens you want to tell someone and I have no friends or family. I have a couple of people I call. How pitiful is it that the only people I can turn to as friends could never admit to knowing me. It is sad. But having no one at all is worse. I have learned when it comes to relationships I need to be grateful for what I get.

Addiction and Prostitution in Hawaii

Sex workers know not to expect commitment but still…

Photo by Flora Westbrook on
Addiction and Prostitution in Hawaii

Sex workers know not to expect commitment but still…

Regular Customers

Repeat customers. People who come back again and again. I have no formal business training but I imagine they are the life blood of many businesses. This is certainly the case in sex work. It is better to have people you know with whom you have developed trust than to meet strangers who could be any kind of crazy. If you have regulars you can feel closer to normal, and I have heard people kind of in denial, who said, “I have friends who help me out. They are just friends. I would never do that. What you do.” Maybe my life would be easier if I did not insist upon being rigorously honest with myself. I knew what they did, what I did, was considered prostitution. But after awhile was it really? Over the years, yes, these relationships can last for years, interactions are not strictly transactional. Ok, there are no sexual favors without payment. However, women call their regulars, who have become friends, for help. I have seen men who started off as basic tricks show up at prison to visit. I have seen them bring diapers for a baby that is not their baby but belongs to the provider’s boyfriend. The boyfriend was never around when these drop offs happened. He was either away for the moment doing whatever or away for awhile doing time. One rule that holds firm is that the only people who meet the client/friend are other working girls who might be present when he drops off some item. He does not meet other men in her life and he does not introduce her to the people in his official life. But the working girls see everything.

One of the upsides of being someone who has seen it all is that people feel a combination of feelings–safe, bc you understand, superior, bc who are you to judge them? In my humble opinion, professional people spend a considerable amount of time making sure they appear to be what people think they are. Their identities are wrapped up in other people’s opinion. I think a lot of white collar embezzlement and thefts from businesses happens bc people are trying to maintain a”lifestyle” which is visible to all. That lifestyle does not include knowing people like us, from the back streets of downtown Honolulu. Little does the public know that these professional men, wearing their dress aloha shirts and shoes (not slippers like the street guts downtown) are “regulars.” They have clandestine relationships with women they met when they were cruising Kukui Street looking for a woman to pay for sex. Well, to amend that, they were not just looking but had found one or more women they favored.

You know not to get attached but what we know and what we do…

Every woman on the street had one or more regulars. It was pretty common for these guys to get pulled in to the scene and only reluctantly go to work. A guy could easily be a regular for more than one woman. There were a handful of guys who had dated several women for years. They did not always want sex. These guys were into the gossip. They wanted to know the news in the women’s lives. The women want to keep their regulars and not just from a financial standpoint. Women get attached. They do not expect him to leave his wife or only date her but they start to expect to see him every week, or month, whatever the usual interval. They know the should not count on money from him but it is hard not to. Some basic math shows you how valuable it is to receive money from which the government has not taken its entitlement. You figure out how much you would have to make at a regular job just to end up with $500 in your hand at the end of the month. You would have to make $750 from which the government would take its third. If you could have three or four regulars who pay you as little as a hundred whenever they see you each week, you would be making more money than any job you could get in Honolulu’s job pool.

But the deeper Truth is you do something most people do not do but you have emotions and concerns typical of everyone. You want to be able to remain indifferent about his absence or presence but that is impossible. When the person does not contact you on the timeline you have come to expect, you worry. How in the world would you find out if anything had happened to him. You are not listed as one of his emergency contacts. Even if you know where he works after years of conversation, it is not like you can call there. Who would you claim to be? One thing about the men who call themselves “hobbyists” is that they can keep their secrets. Absolutely no one in their public life will ever hear them say anything that would raise a smidgen of suspicion. It is rather extraordinary that such a large part of their lives can be kept secret. However, I have seen that men can make the most out of tacking an hour onto the workday schedule they give their wives. Certainly you cannot check with his wife.

You know better than to check with him. He already has obligations he must fulfill and you are a break from everything he has to do. If he starts to feel like he has to see you, you have worked against what he is looking for by seeing you. No strings attached is kind of a myth . You worry about each other and want to see each other but when he needs to be free of ties that bind you have to let him.

Is everything a double standard with men and women? So it seems. In an upcoming post I will talk about how he wants to be the only man. He would never, absolutely never, accept his wife having a man on the side. And he would rather believe he is the only man in his hooker’s life. That’s what you present to him, that he is your one and only while you never call to ask where he is.


Addiction and Prostitution in Hawaii

How did it feel to stand on the street waiting for a date?

My feelings surprised even me

I know that the way I felt is not what people would expect. I would imagine that people would feel humiliated and ashamed, even to be seen by strangers. That’s what I would think but it was not this way for me. When I came to Hawaii after I graduated from college and got addicted to cocaine in New York, I did not know anyone. The newness of the place was what excited me. I had grown up with people who had adopted me but always indicated that they made a mistake. I was either ignored, or denied opportunities to leave the house for simple social events. Not that I was invited anywhere because I really did not have any friends until junior year of high school. Many summers and weekend nights I would sit alone in my room, without options, never having any new experiences. To be out at night, with no place I had to be, no one knowing where I was, no one to answer to, and no one looking to hold me back–it was everything I dreamed of and so very different from my previous life. When I was growing up I was perfectly responsible. I planned for the long term so I could escape that house to go to college. Everything mattered. I did not cut class, skip homework, ditch school. I never did anything one might expect of an adolescent because I was so laser focussed on my escape. I did not know that once I made that escape I would have a giant void in my life because there was no terribly important mission to accomplish. I had mental space to contemplate my social status, or lack thereof. When I saw that I was alone in college, and similarly friendless in my teaching job I felt ashamed that people would see that I had no family, nowhere to go on holidays, and they would look down at me. I was no longer stuck in a room. I went out and did things but I did them alone and sometimes people noticed. Then I came to Hawaii and discovered a subculture where people cared only for themselves. They were not looking at me and what I had or did not have unless it benefitted them. They conformed to the basic animal nature that I imagined existed within all people who really are out for themselves. Addicts do not sugar coat that reality. I could fit in and be welcome in the apartments of other users if I had drugs. And when I was out on the street I felt like I was on a grand adventure. An hour after I walked to the corner of A’ala Street and Kukui Street I could be on my way to the North Shore with a guy, or I could be in one of the empty offices downtown where daytime workers would never guess what goes on at night. Anything could happen. There was an endless parade of strangers and I never failed in my mission to have someone pick me up, that was how steady the traffic of men looking for street sex workers was in the late 1990’s. Instead of never meeting anyone or not being able to hold the interest of people I did meet, I met knew people every day and some of them came back and looked for me again. No one had ever, in my short life, ever, looked for me, sought me out. I felt special and important. In my young adulthood I did not know that men are not in the least bit picky when it comes to anonymous encounters and I was under the impression that I must be beautiful and desirable to always be desired. I did not know that the simple fact that I was available and willing was good enough for anyone. Finally, I did not know anyone and I was never an expert at relating to the people I did know. I had no worries about being seen by someone in a passing car since the majority of people looking at me were people who were probably looking for me or someone like me. It might be terrible to say it, but I enjoyed that life. Of course being in a place without gangs or gun violence probably was a big contributing factor. Nevertheless, I was happy, and I never thought beyond the next fix.

In a way it is strange to think of someone with my background being in that position but that is just looking at it from an education point of view. People of privilege end up doing what I did or doing it differently because they have money. In terms of past emotional issues, I had a lot in common with the people I met in addiction–everyone had their deep issues.

#addiction, #Rippleeffect, #Consequences, #China, #Health

Taboo Honolulu–why do I really write about the forbidden?

I have the truth and the really real truth

I think about what I am trying to do with this blog, this writing project. Since 2017, I have shared my story in an admittedly disjointed way that one reader likened to “stream of consciousness.” My story–what is that? If I am asked to give an elevator pitch describing my story, how would I define myself? Of course I could not tell the absolute truth since I would be talking to someone so I would automatically create the most positive image of myself and when that is done you know you cannot be cringingly honest. Can you? Could I? Could I share the vulnerability that makes me who I am and think you will want to read it? My superficial, appealing (I hope) elevator pitch of my story, this blog you are reading, would be: “People have told me I should write a book that is different from the tourist brochures of Honolulu’s Waikiki tourist track. Downtown Honolulu is a few short miles but a world away from the wealth of Waikiki. It is one of the centers of street life powered by drug addiction and maintained by street prostitution, theft from stores, and drug dealing. As a Harvard grad I started off in Hawaii as a researcher studying a subculture. But I surprised myself when something I knew nothing about called “addiction,” carried me into the streets where I lived a life that was at one time unimaginable. I did things, saw things, and got to know people I never would have met in my former existence.

I learned that everything I thought I knew about sex, gender, taboos…that list is too long.! Everything I thought I knew about everything needed adjusting. What I can tell you about the forbidden world of sex and drugs is endlessly educational for the scholars and entertaining for the voyeurs.”
That’s my too-long elevator pitch. It is all true but not exactly honest. Let’s try for more honest. See below.

My Vulnerable Truth in an honest elevator pitch about my story

I write to harvest the wisdom from my experience because I am still seeking success as defined by society to validate me. After a childhood enduring racism, foster care, and no friends, I thought Harvard would prove my worth to everyone, including me. But the problems I thought a high status accomplishment would solve were still with me. After graduation I was still alone, without family, invited for Christmas dinner by a kind person who included lonely people for the holidays. I felt betrayed that success had not healed my heart or changed my isolated reality. I was offered drugs in a Manhattan bar. I said yes to I knew not what, other than drug use was a rejection of the conventional values that did not heal me. A move to Hawaii resulted in me taking my problems from New York to paradise. Then came full time addiction, joblessness, homelessness, prison. I had become everything I used to separate myself from with scorn, everything that was like my family of origin. I found freedom from judging people bc I understood how a person can fail and still be human. Yet the knowledge that the world still judges me motivates me to use what I have in search of success. All I have is fascinating stories of taboo street life, hidden sexual realities, and secrets people share with hookers bc who could we tell? I hope these stories will reach a broad enough audience to generate income and justify my life choices so I won’t be ashamed to be in touch with people from high school. Success still pending.

I can be more vulnerable and in time, as we get to know each other I will give more of me. Since 2017 I have shared events but not myself. Change is coming.

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.



#how I really feel

#truth telling

#cringing honesty

#vulnerability in writing

Addiction and Prostitution in Hawaii

Sex workers have difficulty when they hate their work and when they enjoy it

Dear reader, you know from my previous posts that unlikely, deep relationships can form between sex workers and tricks.

By deep I mean the contact between the pro and the client goes beyond a simple transaction of this for that, totally temporary, devoid of emotion. There could be more time spent, emotion involved, a degree of friendship, some commitment and reliability and now and then, a significant other relationship.

They usually don’t become partners and that can make a woman wistful

Sometimes a woman will spend time with a trick and it won’t feel like work. Work, as in something to be endured and then shaken off. There are times when she likes him and he likes her. One of the dangers in that is she will feel very sad and wish she could have a man like him or specifically him, to herself. It is entirely possible that the only reason the man is so open with her is BC he knows the relationship is only taken in intermittent hour intervals. People find it easier tone mind and loving g when it is only.a temporary expectation. Maybe the only way to.experience some men at their best is to be in a position that renders you ineligible to form a permanent union. However, a woman cannot know this during a great hour or two. And if she enjoys him, her life might seem. particularly when her job is done. Sometimes sex workers are in a position BC suffering through your work can be painful but enjoying it hurts in a special way.

I have said that to be a sex worker a woman must become like a man and embrace sex without emotional attachment

But women can never set aside their true nature 100% of the time. Now and then she will care

A mixed blessing and curse–in one.

CaroLeena,, Harvard grad who uses book smarts and street experience to become a unique expert on Hawaii Street Life and Related Subjects
Addiction and Prostitution in Hawaii

Honolulu street sex workers have life partners and partners in crime

Surprised sex workers have boyfriends? You should not be surprised, especially if she is on the street. Let me be perfectly clear so I do not get criticized for playing into stereotypes and over generalizing. Not all sex workers are addicts. There are women, and men, who find the advantages of sex work over, say, food service or retail clothing, both of which offer long, hard regular hours and low pay without conferring much social status. If a woman (or man) does not mind hiding her job she can make her own, very short hours, and enjoy the freedom results from having more money and time.. It does not take an addiction to encourage this choice. But for people on the street, they almost always have tales of addiction or mental illness or both. When you do what you must to get drugs you know others do the same. People know these sex workers have zero interest in the people they use to get what they need. Therefore men who are often addicts know these guys usually are not a threat to their positions w/ his sig. other. The smart women do not tell the guys who pick them up they do drugs. Once a date knows that for sure, her value diminishes, plus he knows she will likely take as little as $20 for a “car date” on the side of a secluded road. Boyfriends are not jealous but eager for the women to get dates and return with money for them both. The relationships are more complex than simple predator prey victimizations, however, as two damaged people become codependent. Often the two will work together to steal from unsuspecting outsiders. You can tell there is a team effort when the couple makes a big show of fighting all the time. Outsiders would not suspect one is distracting while the other is stealing their stuff BC all they do is fight! Do not believe one partner who says it is the other one. At the very least theft was condoned. More likely, both were in on the plan.

If you are a regular reader you know that many assumptions about off track life are wrong. Similarly, normal rules of monogamy do not apply when street sex workers are with significant others.
Addiction and Prostitution in Hawaii

Honolulu street sex workers have life partners and partners in crime

Surprised sex workers have boyfriends? You should not be surprised, especially if she is on the street. Let me be perfectly clear so I do not get criticized for playing into stereotypes and over generalizing. Not all sex workers are addicts. There are women, and men, who find the advantages of sex work over, say, food service or retail clothing, both of which offer long, hard regular hours and low pay without conferring much social status. If a woman (or man) does not mind hiding her job she can make her own, very short hours, and enjoy the freedom results from having more money and time.. It does not take an addiction to encourage this choice. But for people on the street, they almost always have tales of addiction or mental illness or both. When you do what you must to get drugs you know others do the same. People know these sex workers have zero interest in the people they use to get what they need. Therefore men who are often addicts know these guys usually are not a threat to their positions w/ his sig. other. The smart women do not tell the guys who pick them up they do drugs. Once a date knows that for sure, her value diminishes, plus he knows she will likely take as little as $20 for a “car date” on the side of a secluded road. Boyfriends are not jealous but eager for the women to get dates and return with money for them both. The boyfriend knows in order for his girlfriend to be herself she has to get rid of the date as fast as possible so she, well, they, can get high. The relationships are more complex than simple predator prey victimizations, however, as two damaged people become codependent. It is nice to have someone to be out there with but I had a friend who encouraged different thinking. My friend who had been a medic in Vietnam said I could do bad all by myself. What did I need a man for if all he could do was find cardboard for us to sleep on during the few hours between 11p.m. and 5 a.m. the Honolulu Police Department allows the homeless to lie down on the streets if downtown Honolulu. I see now he wanted me to come to his place. He has been gone since 2014 and this is a nice memory. But I digress..

Partners in crime

Often the two will work together to steal from unsuspecting outsiders. You can tell there is a team effort when the couple makes a big show of fighting all the time. Outsiders would not suspect one is distracting while the other is stealing their stuff BC all they do is fight! Do not believe one partner who says it is the other one. At the very least theft was condoned. More likely, both were in on the plan.

Addiction and Prostitution in Hawaii

The Experience of being arrested for street prostitution

People underestimate the traumatic effect of the whole criminal justice experience. I was the target in a Honolulu street prostitution sting years ago. A sting is where cops go undercover and act as participants in a scene to draw in actual participants and get people who do not see a trap to say or do something illegal so they can be arrested. There are no entrapment laws in Hawaii that would prevent cops from creating a situation that was there at that precise place and time BC the cops brought it. The guy driving the car that had pulled over for me asked “a hundred for everything ok?” The driver had brought the car to a stop along the side of a quiet road. As soon as I said “yes” there was a tap on my passenger’s side window. A large figure clad in all black, including a black ski mask like a horror movie villain filled my view. He was very polite. “Please step out of the car ma’am. You are being arrested for solicitation.” He opened the door for me and I got out feeling like I was in a dream. The car immediately sped off. Seemingly out of nowhere there was a van and like, 17 people, all ski masked, wearing all black including boots and gloves as if they were not in Honolulu , Hawaii. I don’t remember how I ended up in the back of an empty van with two guys in disguise. Both were jovial and eager to ask me questions as if they were young and new and ready to learn, which they probably were. “So what’s it like out here, how long have you been out here, do you always jump in cars with strangers, do you know what day it is?” Each was anxious for the other guy to shut up so he could ask his question. There was nothing about a right to remain silent. They were not collecting evidence but anecdotes fir stories to tell their friends. There was no need for evidence. I was from the street I would get a public defender, I would be guilty. I see now a real attorney could have gotten the whole thing tossed on the vagueness of the question BC “everything” is not a specific sex act like the law requires, but if I could have afforded an attorney I probably would not have been out there. So I was snatched from my life by masked strangers who suddenly appeared and always had the use of force at their disposal. After being kidnapped and during transport, I was subjected to shaming and ridicule as I was held out as an object of amusement. There was no way to know how and when the ordeal would end. For me it would end 20 months later. You realize you have created your own problems just like most people with problems but as one of the lowest people in society you are ineligible for sympathy or kindness–even from yourself. It would be helpful to recognize how injurious this process is and it is worth noting that the cops choose which of the twenty or so women on the street to target. Would not be surprising if some people based upon color were chosen while others were fresh to go. Still, I was out there and arguing that others got a fresh pass dies nothing for me. That was a truly terrible time.

Addiction and Prostitution in Hawaii

Loneliness is what changes sex worker-client interaction from oppression to relationship

I unsuccessfully try to remain cold

I am an orphan. No family. Without people to help me learn social skills while I was growing up, I had no lessons in getting along with others. Unfortunately: I was not gifted in the area of social skills. I would have benefited from a “how to” manual. I had no manual. I had no friends. The state of affairs remained the same well into adulthood when I found a way to obtain social interaction. My motives for being a sex worker were complex. I needed the money. I needed a place of refuge from isolation. Amazingly there were people who saw me for years. They were the only people to initiate contact with me. Even more incredibly, there were a few who cared. About me! Bailed me out of jail. Bought me a plane ticket when my wallet was stolen on a solo (what else?) vacation off-island and I had only purchased a one way ticket. Funded my rent when I was short. Paid for the exterminator so there would be no way bugs could set up shop in my apartment. One guy dropped everything and sped from Kamala (a suburb) to downtown Honolulu when I accidentally did nor bring enough money to cover a cab ride and the driver had called the police. That was an important moment because I had to correctly determine who could afford to rescue me and who had transportation fast enough to to beat the police to the scene. This person was able and willing. Yet it is a complicated relationship BC we could never be seen together in public. It is not accurate to say that every action us exploitation. Would you call this person a friend?

I can never keep my heart out if interactions. I come across as sarcastic and cold but I care. I wish I had this relationship as the primary person in a man’s life. But consider this, without sex work I would have no one at all BC how would I lure people in past my difficult personality? All is not what our prejudices think is correct.

Addiction and Prostitution in Hawaii

Panhandlers are surprisingly organized

My word choice shows my bias

I was going to remove the word “surprisingly” but left it in to show my first, genuine opinion. I never examined my assumptions about the people I see holding signs with words like “will work for food.” When I looked at myself with as much impartiality that can be mustered by pretending I was analyzing the actions of someone else, I saw a lack of curiosity about those I mentally labelled “street people,” or “beggars,” or “homeless,” or “mentally ill.” Curiosity is natural for me, active curiosity involving questions and follow up questions. Without realizing U had been brainwashed, I had adopted society’s attitude that these people did not count. When I started spending a lot of time –as in, my life–on the streets I wanted you to know I was a person with a story that would ine day appear in this blog. Hear me! Now that I am not on the street my attitude of regarding the sign holders as “other” leaks through in my writing. I hope I can continue to spot my own bias and make changes.

They call it work not begging

I heard people discussing a guy’s reluctance to “work” with a certain woman. They have jobs–these unlikely people? Indeed, they put in 8 hours at particular spots There has to be a definite presentation of a person who is just like you, someone you’d want to help. “You have to have no body consciousness at all. Everything you wear is long, nothing attractive. You want people to think you are just like them.

You want to look like a pilgrim without the bonnet

One of the rules of panhandling

Another rule of panhandling is you “have to sparkle with your attitude. You want people to feel like they are doing some good in helping you. They do not want to think they are giving you money for drugs.”

People are mostly giving you money for drug. No one imagines that the panhandlers make an average of $200 a day. Everyone believes no one is giving you money so everyone gives you money. You do not just wander about but go to a thoughtfully chosen spot. You present the image of propriety that got knocked of course but you could get back.

Interestingly, there is enough money collected each day that people could come together and get a place and get off the street. But the activity is so strongly associated with using drugs that it would put a person on automatic pilot so they could never do anything different by employing tactics originally part of drug seeking behavior. It is hard to believe people who look incapable of planning are really quite calculated in all they do. Do not believe what you see. Hey, if people want to give money where is the harm in it? It is better than stealing. Some would say it is better than prostitution, no matter how far out of the public eye the prostitution is. Something to think about. At least prostitution is honest.

Addiction and Prostitution in Hawaii Geriatric Street Life

Geriatric Hookers–Aging, Addiction, and Sex Work

Thursday, July 22, 2021, 11:33 p.m., Honolulu, Hawaii

Remember Winona, age 60 something? She might have had a stroke

I say “might” because when she was stricken with whatever made her seriously ill, she only stayed in the hospital a day and a half and left against medical advice. It is not unusual for people with addictions to leave the hospital in search of dope downtown. Queens Hospital is near downtown Honolulu, and they get a lot of street people looking for a place to sleep or presenting with self inflicted (and therefore “unworthy”) medical issues from doing drugs like skin abscesses or inflammation of the valves of the heart from bacteria introduced into the body by the needle pushing it beneath the skin. Most addicts do not swab their arms or wherever they are shooting dope. The staff at Queens is so hostile to addicts that, in my humble opinion, many of them are downright unprofessional and I wonder if they are trying to drive people out to their deaths. After a seizure a woman from downtown was resting in the Queens E.R. when a nurse one would expect to exhibit compassion, woke her by kicking the gurney and saying, “Get up Get out. I am not your mother.” Queens is an easy hospital to leave, especially given it is within walking distance to dope, even for people wheeling i.v. poles. I have seen a patient with i.v. in tow looking for dope, still wearing the hospital gown. Winona was similar to this person in that she needed a wheelchair but did not wait for the social worker to help her so she arrived downtown pushing herself along in a wheeled office chair. Winona won’t go back to the hospital, according to another associate, Antonia, another downtown denizen of a certain age, who is in a wheelchair because she did not follow through with physical therapy after hip replacement surgery and her muscles are too atrophied to allow her to walk again. Or so I have heard.

I told Winona I would take care of her if she went back to the hospital. I’ll bring her dope. But she won’t go. I don’t really think she had a stroke because I had a stroke when I was in the hospital and that does not seem to be what is wrong. She is weak though. I watch out for her at night because she sleeps with our group. But I can’t keep supporting her habit because I have to sell the stuff or get cut off.

Antonia, contradicting herself by promising to supply the ailing Winona with dope but complaining that Winona feels entitled to free dope now that she cannot work the track to supplement ineffectual sales. The women are both their own best customers and unless they have plenty of heroin they have always had to supplement their dealing with prostitution to keep themselves well, or avoid withdrawal due to lack of heroin.

Fear of Missing Out is a real psychological phenomena that keeps aging and ailing addicts hunting for dope when they should be seeking medical care

Addicts know that once hospitals have a record of your addiction, they are extremely reluctant to give you even necessary painkillers. There is no such thing as successful drug seeking behavior at Honolulu hospitals. The staff is hip to that game and they seem to get offended that patients would try to con them. The only way to have dope in the hospital is to very respectfully explain that you have a habit and ask for the minimum of methadone to stay out of withdrawal. If you do this, it is likely the hospital will comply, but that is no way to get high and addicts have to sneak in additional dope if they want more than to just not be sick. Addiction causes problems precisely because people are unable to regulate their use, or resist their cravings for drugs. People with addictions are often unable to leave an area where the drugs are located to go to a drug free area. The very thought of such a journey, however short or temporary, can cause full blown panic attacks. The slang term is “getting stuck” and it is one of the main reasons people miss appointments, family gatherings, court dates, anything of tremendous importance is that they do not anticipate getting stuck. They imagine they will leave in plenty of time to arrive at the urgent affair and that simply does not happen, nor is this failure ever anticipated. The mental disease lies to the sufferer and tells her, “this time will be different.” Things are never different. I have seen drug users grow older and more infirm, and although they are not elderly by society’s standards, once they are in their 50’s and 60’s their health is quite bad and does not improve because they make no more effort to support their health than they did in their pre-teens, which is when most addicts raised in Hawaii get their start using drugs.

The Problem is death is not instantaneous

Addicts, even non-addicts, will say they do not fear death. Who cares anyway? It is not like anyone will miss them. Their families, parents, children, siblings, do not speak to them. There are no real friends in the dope game. If it all came to an end would that be so bad? Obviously, I have no idea about death but I do know that people rarely go from perfect health to instantaneous oblivion. A period of disability is not unusual. I have seen people last for several years, confined to bed, unable to rise, or speak, or understand words spoken to them. This period of infirmity is almost universally feared by anyone I have ever spoken to about it. Whenever people refuse to take their blood pressure medication claiming they do not care if their life ends, I remind them of how a stroke can leave them. And I tell them that they vow they would kill themselves before they let that fate befall them, but that fate befalls them before they have the chance to kill themselves. Then what are you going to do when your body is your prison?

Is there an addict community?

Kind of. There are people who will help you get high, or provide you with a place to get high if you share your drugs. You might even come to like these people and seek out their company. But will they be there to care for you since you have no family? I know a woman named Joyce, also in a wheelchair, now that I think about it, whose hip replacements became infected from street life and in a process I do not understand somehow her hips are not securely held within the ball and socket joint. Like the previous two women in chairs, she is not paralyzed but infirm from street life. Yet she has a smile for everyone and she insists that I, and everyone else, band together to take care of each other because we have no one else. It is hard to motivate for the previous two women who have gossiped about me with considerable viciousness and stolen from me. I could help Joyce, although I admit to avoiding her since Winona got sick and she insisted that I find Winona and see if she needed my help or if she wanted to stay with me. I do not want Winona in my space because she would rather see me homeless by sabotaging me than for me to have a place she might be able to visit. This amount of spite is very typical. Like others who escaped the streets, I learned that I had to get rid of my desire to reach out to others or else lose what I have when these others do things like leave syringes around the property in the hope of causing me to lose my apartment. Joyce is kind and she shows me I could be a better person, but my willingness to risk everything for people who would never risk anything for me is not great. Forget risk, these people would not inconvenience themselves for me! Do I believe that I might need someone to take care of me? Realistically, I have learned that it is only the folly of youth that makes people thing themselves invulnerable. Something could happen to me and I might need help and if that happens I do not know what will become of me. But I do know that opening a care home in my place will not win me any favor with women who dislike me but will happily use me.



Prostitutes List Tricks as Their Emergency Contacts

Relationships are Complex

I had preconceived notions about people engaged in off track behavior when I first entered the world of drug users. These ideas were shattered to hell by realities I could never have guessed. The process of replacing wrong, long held and immutable stereotypes with new information that differs from person to person, situation to situation. It is ready to dehumanize people we think are beneath us and part of dehumanizing people is removing their individuality. Hen e we see prostitutes as one monolithic type, their clients, or tricks, as another monolith. Inpictured hookers as indifferent people looking for the quick buck without needing or wanting to know the gut’s name. Same with tricks though they weren’t looking for the quick buck but a word that rhymes with buck. Every now and again it is absolutely true that long term contact is nothing more than intermittent and impersonal interaction. That’s not the whole story of what these men and women can mean to each other. Some regular customers can see the same woman or women for years, forming relationships so deep that the trick becomes the emergency contact or vice versa. When one if them gets arrested it us commonplace for them to use their one phone call from cell block to reach the other half of the sex worker relationship. One “hobbyist” had been “dating” women in downtown Honolulu for 30 years until the present. He mentioned to one of his girls that he might have a friend who could watch her cat when she went on vacation. “She is like you. She calls me when she gets in trouble.” The reference to “trouble was about a time the first girl accidentally forgot her money for the cab when she took the cat to the vet. The cab driver threatened to call the cops and the win an had to decide on the person she knew that would be able to cover the ever mounting fare AND who would arrive on the scene before the Honolulu police department mosied to the site of the dispute. Who else had enough money, a reliable enough vehicle and the motivation to come right now to rescue her from a situation she could have averted by taking careful inventory of her bag? The guy flew in his truck from the suburbs of Kamala to the outskirts of Waikiki. Our hero was indicating that there was another woman who had it like that with him and on the strength of past favors she might be willing to help out by catsitting for the first woman. There’s remarkably little jealousy between women when neither is trying to take ownership if the guy. When our hero found out the cat lover was driving around without a license (but in a legal car) he warned her that he might not be so willing to bail her out if she got caught. The cat lover was mildly surprised BC she had never asked him if he would bail her out should the not so unlikely event of her arrest take place. How flattering! But after thinking about it, he was the emergency contact who would both have the money and the willingness to use it for bail. Keep in mind that the first 10% of any bail over $1000 is kept by bail bondsman. Bail that is under $1000 must be paid in full but it is all returned when the defendant goes to court. It is kind of a big favor. The working girl was quite surprised it would be offered in advance. That’s the complexity of hooker and trick relationships. For some of these women the long term regulars care more about the women than anyone the women had ever known. It is nit just drugs that tie women to prostitution. The need for companionship that is easy the way things are between people who have been together a long time–that is extremely hard to give up with no replacement in sight.