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?

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, #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

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.

Xhookr Life Hacker

“Fun is Not Always a Team Sport,” said the selfish man I loved

  New post on Brainiac Honolulu Hooker   Hooker Hack #5 by X-Streetwalker Turned Sex TalkerFun is not always a team sport.”      One reason people seek prostitutes is that they want to have a time that is all about them, to the exclusion of everyone else, including provider. No worries about anyone’s unmet needs, no performance anxiety over the thought of failing to please, no expectation that they ask questions and best of all, no expectation they listen. The provider does not care as long as she is paid and for some people at least some of the time, the indifferent arrangement is just what the doctor ordered. All that is required is coloring within the lines (complying with the provider rules) . Within said boundaries they can do whatever they want to do and don’t have to do it particularly well by anyone’s standard but their own. What a lovely vacation from intimacy responsibilities! Sometimes there’s fun in numbers but at other times a guy wants to be alone and your role is to help him enjoy active alone time X-Streetwalker Turned Sex Talker | December 25, 2018 at 7:39 am | Tags: Escort secrets, intimacy&relationships | Categories: Escort Life Hacks, Questions to escorts | URL: Comment    See all comments    Like   Unsubscribe to no longer receive posts from Brainiac Honolulu Hooker .
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Those were the words of a woman, me, Caroleena, who was trying to make sense of the death of the person I loved, and who loved me, kind of, but who was mostly gay so he never really committed–to me. He wanted me when he wanted me. He never lied to me. He just wanted to see me when he wanted to, not when he didn’t. You might think this is normal, but what is normal is seeing a person you are in an indefinable relationship with at times when you do not want to see the other person but you do it anyway. He did not do things “anyway.” He did things when he enjoyed them, for his pleasure, not for anyone else’s. It was extraordinarily honest. Selfish. Hurtful. More than any other person, male or female, he loved himself, he preferred his own happiness to anyone else’s. This preference for selfishness was something that he struggled with along with his intermittent desire for the same gender. He talked about that struggle, the struggle to be more concerned about another person so as to maintain a relationship, with me, not in an honest way about why he was conflicted but about some of the memorable times he had and why those times did not include thoughts of other people. Why did he tell those stories? I told him I was interested in knowing what he was like all the way through, which was not as true as the reality that I wanted to make myself more accepting than any other person he could ever meet so that he would stay with me because no one else would give him the freedom to be himself–guilt free. The even deeper truth than that? I was so happy to hear from him because he reaccepted me into his life after a period of days that I would have listened to him talk about anything as long as he was talking to me. And that was how I ended up hearing about why he did not really love other people the way they wanted him to. In the course of those experiences he often said, “Fun is not always a team sport.” For him, fun was never a team sport. I do not know why I loved him so much, but I did.

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.


Who pays for sex–sad sacks or sickos? Neither and both

Preconceived notions about clientele.

Autobiographical blogs Dissociation Escort Life Hacks Live Video Red Light District Sex; Street life Xhookr Life Hacks

Video: Streetwise Life Hack #22: Life is a Good News Bad News Story

Streetwise Life Hack: life is a Good News Bad News Story

Addiction and Prostitution Denial downtown Honolulu Life Hacks Lifestyle Live Video

Video: Streetwise Life Hack #22: Life is a Good News Bad News Story

Life us a good news/bad news story. The good news: you can get used to anything. The bad news? You guessed it. You can get used to anything. A central theme in stories of addiction is how a person grudgingly reduces the number of things they never intend to do. “Absolutely never” becomes “well, maybe.”


Addiction is comprised of ia predictable sequence of events. You feel terrible about the standard you have disregard, but, there was nothing to be done about the exigent circumstances. “Whatever it takes” to get more dope is no longer an unimaginable hypothetical but part of your world. It’s nit like you are going to do this forever. Only temporary , you tell yourself. This thing you have to do is not who you are, just something you did. On a limited basis. You refuse to redefine yourself based on a temporary deviation from your norm . For example, You’re not a prostitute. You did engage in prostitution out of necessity but you did not mean it. You’re not like one if those people on street corners. Ok, you admit that an observer would not know the difference between you and the prostitutes near you. But you viewed to never forget who you really were.


You maintain your self image as “not like the rest of them,” but this understanding does not repeat in your mind like a mantra that you needed to continuously recite to help you do the deed. Before too long you find that you have gotten used to the once unimaginable. Mantras are not necessary. You expect men to see you and want you and do something in order to spend a bit of time with you. You never think about the specifics of the deed. Aside from those unmentionable unpleasant specifics, you start enjoying yourself! The easy, tax free money. The adventure of never knowing where you’re going to be from one hour to the next. Seeing the whole island of Oahu when dates take you back to their place. Your 100% success rate when it came to getting a date. When you walked to Kukui Street in downtown Honolulu you only waited minutes or even seconds, for a car to pull over. You even get used to blocking out what you’re doing while you’re doing it by what you call “going away inside my head.”


The unthinkable has been reframed. Now you call it Tuesday. Or Wednesday. Whatever day. Every day. And through it all, you still believe you’re nit like the rest of them. Without repression and denial no one would be able to get an addiction off the ground!

Categories #LinkstoMyBlog Addiction and Prostitution anthropology Comfort Zone coping skills Fear of Rejection Insecurity Rejection relationships Social Anxiety Street life

The Fear of Rejection Is a Motivating Factor for both sex worker and client. (Inspiration Post: Fear of Rejection: 3 Simple Tips to Overcome) Thus is the link to the above entitled post by a fellow wordpress blogger that inspired this author.

Sex, Drugs, Money

Men want sex and they are willing to pay women on the street a small amount of money so the women can get drugs. That’s the underlying structure if street prostitution. We know there are other forms of sex work that involve higher compensation for women and the women have to give more than a quick 10 minutes on a side street in the date’s car.. Women have to so
spend time, provide scintillating conversation and listen to the date’s stories.

Not Just Sex and Drugs

Addiction pushes people to do things that they might nit have been completely opposed ti, but never saw themselves doing. In theory a woman may believe prostitution is a personal choice but there’s no way in God’s green earth she would ever make that choice. After addiction takes hold and the brain and body shout “Need drugs, need drugs!” a woman finds herself doing what was since unimaginable. Not only is she doubt it, but it becomes routine, ho hum. She’ll see a car up over on her side if the street 10 feet in front if where she is standing on the sidewalk, and she will have the near by drug dealer on her mind. She will say to herself “I will just do this date real quick and get something frim the guy before he leaves.” She dies not lime the work nor does she anticipate the task in advance. She focusses on the reward and that s a fantasy she will happily replay in her mind after she gets out of the car, task complete. Very few things in life, while using or sober, provide the elation she feels as she race walks to the dope man, clutching three twenty dollar bills. Three hard earned twenties that will be gone in an hour. It is common for people to get addicted to the drug and addicted to the rush of anticipation. Since dugs are inexplicably bound in that streetlife ritual, one would assume if the woman had dope or got clean she would not engage in prostitution. You would be wrong.

Conversation is a Mutual Reward

People seldom act out of one simple motive. There are the obvious goals in street life.

Men: prostitution=Sex

Women: prostitution=drugs

Logically the two people never need to speak to each other. Politeness would not matter Neither hooker or trick would contemplate if they like the other person in the temporary contract. Yet, they do like or dislike the other person. They look forward to seeing them again or the join up grudgingly when there are no other options on the street. They both appreciate the diminished risk of rejection BC they both know their personalities are of secondary importance

Sobriety Challenge

Sobriety is all about retraining your brain. Presenting yourself as what you are not what you offer to do is one of the most frightening adjustments. People who never realized prostitution created a social safety zone are astonished to find themselves missing it when they are no longer pursuing (or being pursued by) an addiction. Recovery is difficult when a person is unaware of the many payoffs of using.

Social anxiety (or terror) for some, is so crippling people with addictions often fear that getting clean will mean a life of isolation BC who would want them if they no longer show up with goods or services?


Ironically, rich people have the same concern about people wanting to use them. Who would believe people in the highest and lowest social castes would have something so deep in common?

promises, male ego, strategy, relationships, escort agencies, sex

Experienced Hookers Know There’s a Promise They Will Never Have to Keep

Symbols: a high heel and bills

A Hooker’s Client Explains Why She Should Not Text Him–It’s not the wife

Don’t Text Me!

That’s what he said to the working girl.  She was offended.  She never texted him.  She answered his texts but she never initiated first contact.  She had her pride.  Yes, when the business of prostitution moved online, there was a new way to get in touch with potential clients that never existed before.  Before widespread use of the internet a woman worked the street and she had to wait for a guy to stop his car and gesture with the tilt of his head for her to get in.  Or, she worked for an escort service that would be listed in the Yellow Pages under “Escort.”  Guys called the service and the manager passed his number on to the provider.  She called him immediately because she understood that he was waiting for her call right then.  In short, he had to express his interest in her in a clear and immediate way.  There was no way to reach out to him. What would she do if she had his number anyway?  Call him at home?

But then along came cell phones that were not shared by the entire family.  Every guy she had ever checked with used his phone for some form of sex.  They watched porn.  They looked at nude still pictures.  They joined sites as members who were entitled to communicate with other members.  These sites could be dating apps.  The provider did not bother with dating apps because while the guys on those sites were looking for sex, they were looking for free sex.  It amazed her that guys could get women to have sex with them for free, and by free she meant these guys offered these women who were total strangers absolutely nothing–no conversation, no fun date, no dinner, no movies, no flower, no promise to call the next day.  Hey, not all sex took money, but sex was never free, certainly it cost something.  Right?  Guess not.  Apparently there were women looking for men they did not know to have sex with them without any hope of a relationship and without asking for money.  Now that was bizarre, as far as this provider was concerned.  No one did anything for free so these women must be getting something our of these no strings attached encounters and since she did not know any of these women it was impossible to find out what they were getting out of sex with strangers. So, dating apps were out because those guys got really mad when they were asked about money.  She had found that out after trying four different unconsummated hook ups. Yes, really mad. After the fourth guy had threatened her with, in local Hawaii vernacular “a pounding” for wasting his time and making him drive in Friday evening traffic for nothing, she decided to look for men elsewhere.

Dating Apps and Provider Sites Are Different

No, this provider discovered a new way to meet men who understood that nothing was free, no matter what the hippies had said so long ago about “free love.”  There was a site called  If guys joined they could post comments about providers, and participate in often heated discussions from other guys with similar interests.  The site called them “mongers” or “hobbyists.”  There were different threads for prominent cities around the country, and each city was subdivided by region and further subdivided by topic.  In Honolulu some of the many topics included “Asian Providers age 40+” or “Streetwalker Reports” or “Escort Reviews.”  Reading the words of men who considered themselves alone without any women around, even if that was not true, was fascinating.  Of course it was possible to advertise, and she did that, but she had thought there was another creative way to get in touch with new hobbyists.  When the provider was on the usa site and she read something from a guy that interested her, or if she read something that made her think the guy using this screen name might like her, she would send that screen name a private message.  She knew it was possible that she already knew the guy and simply did not know it was a known associate under that screen name.  Other than that minor risk, the provider congratulated herself on her initiative and creativity in coming up with a new way to meet guys.  She was wrong. She got in touch with people alright, but in doing so she actually made sure these were guys she was most definitely not going to meet. As she continued to read through the site, this time keeping an eye our for comments about how her reaching out had gone over, she was dismayed to discover that guys thought her unsolicited contact was desperate and bizarre.  They did not welcome a woman coming out of nowhere. They actually blocked her so she could not send messages.  Other guys on the site she had not contacted agreed through their comments that this weird woman was best left alone.  Wow, that was a bit of a blow to the pride! Every time the provider had taken an independent step by attempting to interact with people by not following what everyone else was doing, things always ended this way.  Sure, she was a provider, but she had very little relationship experience because she did not know how to attract of maintain anyone’s interest in her as a person.  Temporary interest in her body, now that, she could manage.

This long story about why the provider was quite sure she had not and would not ever text this long term regular is an explanation about why the provider felt offended when her regular told her not to text.  Had she ever text him? No!  She had learned her lesson and the last thing she wanted to do was lose a steady regular by appearing to be unbalanced or unreasonably demanding. The guy went on the tell her there was no problem and he wanted to be sure to keep it that way.

It’s Not Because of the Wife

“I am not worried about my wife seeing the texts.  My wife is from Japan.  I guess in Japan once the wife has a child, everything becomes about the child and she is not really interested in sex with the husband anymore.  That is how it is with my wife, anyway.  She would never check my phone.  But my daughter is American and she goes through my phone all the time,” said the client, feeling the need to explain himself. Of course he might have felt the need to explain himself when the provider got mad at him.

“Not only does she pick up my phone and read my messages whenever she wants, she reads them out loud. If she doesn’t know someone she asks me about that person.  She would notice if she saw a number she didn’t recognize. She is so smart that even if I saved your number under a familiar name she might notice that the texts from you are different than what she is used to seeing.  I don’t want her thinking anything.”

“How old is your daughter?” the provider asked.

“She is 9,” said the client, as if that explained everything.

He lets a 9 year old dictate terms to him?  Seemed strange to her, but she knew she was no expert in relationships of any sort. Nine years old…old enough to read well and navigate the technology and still young enough to be interested in what dad is doing and not yet in the grip of the normal adolescent stage of development that demands the separation of teens from their parents in order for them to become independent people.  In a few years the daughter will probably be far more interested in the messages on her phone, and she will probably take after her daddy and conceal her activities. But for now, yes, a 9 year old could be problematic for a guy who wants to sneak around with new people while not appearing to change anything about his actions and communications.  Although the provider did puzzle over how a grown man would not establish a boundary with his daughter, if only for the sake of demonstrating that this is private space and communication, even if nothing sneaky is going on.

Well, the provider mused, a man like this might have issues with boundaries.  He might be otherwise mentally preoccupied.  After all he is sneaking around to do something that his wife might very well want him to do if only to take the pressure off of her. The wife might know already and feel happily relieved of her obligations.  Not that she could say that.  She probably has to put up the appearance of someone who would do what her husband wants if only he asked, but since he didn’t ask, there was no need for her to do anything sexually speaking, and no need to feel bad about it.

Prostitution Minimizes Unspoken Rules 

The provider sighed to herself.  One of the advantages about trading sex for money was that there were no games.  No unspoken expectations, no hidden hints and complicated nuances like there were in ordinary human interactions. This provider found ordinary human interactions bewildering because she never read the subtext correctly.  No, she never knew there was a subtext until people got mad at her.  She only found out there was an unspoken rule she had violated if she was lucky enough to be able to explain the situation to someone who understood that when it came to human interactions she did not know what to do other than to make plain rules for herself to follow after learning lessons the hard way–like how she had learned not to reach out to people on a personal level if you hoped they’d find you attractive enough to solicit for sex.

When she thought about it, she was just like her client.  Texting had to be done a certain way.  And just like the client, the restrictions had nothing to do with the fact that he had a wife, and everything to do with the reality that the only quasi-social relationships the provider was able to maintain were with people who could not let anyone know they spoke to her.



The Haughty Kid I was would Never Respect an Adult With My Past

#1 #1 #1

As kids we are taught that being first was the best possible outcome. We were never taught that helping others was just as or even more important. Don’t believe me? What’s the name of the person who graduated first in his high school class? Valedictorian. What’s the name of the kid who helped people in the graduating class? We have no honorary title for the kind, the helpful.  I wanted to be the best. To obtain honors, do meaningful work. But I gave up when I found out success did not cure lonliness and I had no people in my life to help me. I would never have talked to a hooker, certainly never thought I would become one. Funny thing, I get more companionship, secretly of course, out of hooking than I ever did out of success. Did I make the wrong choice? Of course. But given my difficulty relating to people what else could I have done that I would not have to hide?


False Claims About Hookers with a few anime pix

False Claims about hookers–so very common. Check out this link to hear what “they” say and what they are so wrong about!  One of the most popular posts in what’s becoming a veritable library of work!

Foot Fetish we describes his tastes, without being asked to direct his thoughts or words. Pure honesty, anonymously, is what you’ll find in this post. Sometimes women with pretty feet are hired for their feet but it isn’t true that they don’t have to do more than show their feet. Often more is required of them.


False Claims About Hookers



From Streetwalker to Escort–How One Woman Made the Transition

Interview with veteran sex worker:

A Streetwalker is easy to describe. She walks the streets that are known for prostitution and gets into the car if any guy who pulls over for her. The workers on the street are usually homeless and addicted to several substances. For a woman to be on the street in her own home town where people she knows can see her, she has to reach a level of not caring that’s hard to imagine if you’ve never been there. This not caring extended to asking price. She would prefer to get $100, the usual maximum in downtown Honolulu in the early 2000’s. But make no mistake about it she will take $20 bc that’s enough to get her high. That meager amount of money is gone faster than it takes her to instruct a man to pull over into an isolated parking space for quick sexual favors. But she is only seeing as far as the next high. Later on, that’s when she worries about later.

You have to understand that no mental state remains constant. Sometimes she wants a chance to make money, to get a place. For me, I asked one of the guys I had taken to hanging out with after he became a date. He said he knew someone who ran an escort service. This was before the internet. Guys would look in the yellow pages for “escort” for all the world to see. Half page ads. Local women, foreign women, older women, younger women. It looked like a guy had many different choices for companionship. In truth, all of these half page ads in the Honolulu yellow pages belonged to one guy–a black man named Steve who answered the phone in a deep Barry White voice with, “May I help you?” The guy I was hanging out with could relate to my desire to earn more and more importantly, he knew if I worked escort it would be taking calls from all over the island so I would need a driver. Like him. So, while we were staying in a hotel frequented by ne’er-do-wells called the Pacific Marina, out by the airport, my associate called Steve. Steve told him to bring me to a spot in Waikiki. I thought we were going to meet but instead he observed me from afar. I had no phone, back in those days phones were not standard, but Steve called my associate and told him that I looked like I needed to “come up” but that I would do nicely. Then , I did meet Steve and he provided me with a phone and told me what I needed to do to make $300 an hour instead of turning $20 dates.

No matter where you are in the world it all comes down to who you know and if they are willing to endorse you.


Older Hookers whose dates call them Auntie, local style in Hawaii

Older Hooker’s experience with dates half her age

Follow the above link to 2018 post from the early days of this blog when the author was more precisely focused on the topic of Everything Red Light Hawaii.


Is a hooker’s trick sad or sick. Probably neither




Neither! You can click on the link or cut and paste into your browser to obtain Caroleena’s 2018 take on this question. Sad or sick? Possibly. More likely horney and/or lonely. Fairly often the men and providers become friends who spend time together outside of anything transactional. Sometimes they become part of each other’s public lives–others see them together but she’s not introduced by her job title. Believe it or not, in Honolulu it’s very common to make friends by meeting up with someone first encountered online. Of course, murder is practically unheard of here beyond once a year. Same with gun violence. Strangers are not the real threat. If anyone raises his hand against a woman it’ll probably be her significant other. Now that I think about it, here, where domestic violence is normal and not all that hidden, a woman is safer around a man who does not feel he can claim her as his own, thus giving him de facto hitting privileges. Wow. My thoughts took me to new ideas. Forgive me if you feel I have gone astray.


Thousands Viewed this YouTubeStreet Sex Sites in Honolulu’s Tent Cities YouTub


This low quality film was posted to YouTube as an afterthought. I had to Disguise the front of the cell phone from the anonymous residents of the diy tents haphazardly lining Honolulu’s Streets just 3 miles from what was once the 6th most lucrative commercial street in the world.  In post-COVID Hawaii, the gold coast of Waikiki is a ghost town but as for the poor…in the Bible, Jesus said the poor will always be with you. It was true 2000 years ago and nothing has changed. You can join the thousands of YouTube fans in taking a look at the other side of the Honolulu tracks. I bet you can’t imagine paying one of the occupants $20 to use his tent to complete a transaction of sex for money, can you. It happens all the time. Even professional men find tent sex exhilarating but they’ll take that knowledge to the grave. You can, however, get the info from me!  The thrill of the down and dirty relieves the monotony of the successful life everyone said they’d like, but they find deadly full with too little anticipatory pleasure. The everyday workday is manageable when a guy knows he will be off on an adventure after work. The idea of giving up the thrill seeking inherent in picking up a woman on the street and finding a tent…no, it’s a void so densely empty it cannot be contemplated. Abstaining from being a “hobbyist” or “monger” would mean having nothing to look forward to, nothing to get excited about. In a way, other people’s homelessness makes life worth living when the have’s seek to acquire what the have-not’s possess–freedom to do whatever without the watchful condemning eyes of peers hoping you screw up do they can watch as the mighty fall. When you ain’t got nothing you got nothing to lose. Bob Dylan was right. And the bible. Bob Dylan and the bible can give you real insight to this video.


Virginity auctioned to highest bidder–Link to 2018 popular post


How much would a guy pay to bed a virgin? The answer won’t surprise you.