Often when I run up on cute girls in the escort business who I think should have a decent life (at least financially) but don’t even though they’re plenty hot enough to earn a handsome living, I try to advise them on how to handle their affairs and maintain some dignity while doing what they’re doing. Like with my taxi newspaper employer many years ago, I take them on as projects. I know how to manage my shit – and I don’t see why somebody else who really does earn enough to live well can’t do the same thing. Yeah, right! Good luck with that one!
So recently, I got close enough to a girl who by all rights should be a millionaire at this point in time. But attempting to help her for just one day, I found out in a hurry why she isn’t! Check it out!
First, the girl is working (or was) for somebody who we both know is a disaster area as an employer. Ya know…the type of woman who’ll tell a girl “Don’t worry…he’s a regular” when in actuality, she has no idea who or what the guy is. He could be a cop…a killer…or God knows what. For 50 bucks, this boss will risk the girl’s well-being just to make the dough. Why you wanna work for this woman when you know the deal?!?! Bad sign right off!
Ok! So she feels uncomfortable with the troll of an owner and clears out of Dodge to go get a hotel room. Good move in my estimation. But by this time it’s already 6 PM – which means she will effectively miss the after work rush! This reminds me of guys who would buy a 12 hour cab shift and quit after 8 hours rather than continue driving when all the expenses had been paid and every dime that came in went into the driver’s pocket.
By me, if you’re gonna shell out $230 for a hotel room, you get there at check in time…you stay until check out time…you put up enough ads to make the phone ring…and you work as much as is humanly possible. And then? You take a fucking day off and do something societal, rewarding yourself with a nice meal or a little work lingerie or something like that.
Getting back to the day’s play by play…so she arrives at Penn Station but does my buddy go to the hotel? Fuck no! Now she needs to put money on her card to pay for the hotel room which means…she has to find a Western Union! Brilliant! How’s this? Take $200 and open a fucking checking account which comes with a debit card, Einstein! Then you won’t be in constant search of a check cashing joint with a line around the block to put money on your ghetto plastic! Bottom line: More valuable time wasted!
At Western Union…the girl discovers that she accepted a fake hundred from some guy and is now stuck with it! You have to be kidding me! What escort doesn’t check hundred dollar bills before accepting them? The answer: This one! So now she’s the proud owner of a phony hundred from a bad customer she met at a shitty place run by a scum belle who lets anybody in because she doesn’t care if the girls live or die. Just so she gets her money! You guys getting the picture?
About this time, I have to go out for a while and upon returning, come to discover that she has indeed posted an ad on Backpage. Maybe there’s some hope! Or maybe not! She left her phone charger back at the last place and now has to deal with the reality that all calls must be limited to save her battery! I mean…is this fucking crazy or what?
Then just as prime time is nearing…the girl has to go take a train ride to “pick something up.” I know what the something is: Reefer! Pardon the interruption but a few observations: First, buy the weed before you go to work so you don’t have to take what was probably an hour to an hour and a half scoring weed all while you can’t work or even answer the phone because you’re under ground! Second, smoke weed in a pipe and not a blunt. You’ll get high on much less…save on Phillies…and your lungs in the process. Who the fuck wants to inhale a tobacco leaf that’s wrapped around a cigar? And finally, why you wanna work with a cloudy head? So you can get robbed…or arrested…or accept a phony hundred because you can’t see straight? Save the weed for when you’re off. You can’t wait that long?
Whatever…I’m sure I could go on and on but why bother? After just a few short hours of taking her on as a project, I gave up just as precipitously as I’d entered the project. It was clear that there’s no hope for the girl. She was born…lives…and will die a hot albeit dismal mess. What are ya gonna do?
I’ve often marveled at the futility of women who latch on to men with “potential” (which usually means a big unit) and then try to change them in their image. That’s exactly what I tried to do with this girl! But in my defense, I gave up just a few hours in – realizing that there was just no hope. I was hypnotized for a brief moment. But that was all!
P.S. The image pictured actually is of the girl described in this post.