Archive for the 'pimps' Category

08
Jan
12

2012 YEAR OF THE DRAGON: time to breath some FIRE

Today marks the 3rd month that I have stopped inhaling marijuana

HAPPY NEW YEAR!  I am starting off the year in Los Angeles reflecting on the differences between this year and last year.  Last year I started out with a big wad of sugar daddy cash on my person because Christmas in the Bay Area had blessed me with an amazingingly generous client that allowed me to get my solo theatre show “Modern Day Asian Sex Slavery” off the ground and have a cabaret with a full jazz band and sexy sex worker burlesque performers…Those are the two big accomplishments of 2011 that I wrote in my list of things that I was proud of having accomplished that year.

The OTHER big one is more recent and carries a different weight for me.  3 months ago I attempted to go on a weed cleanse because I was sick with a cold and had stopped vaporizing for a few days because when I am sick, I don’t really feel like being high because my head is already light, so I took advantage of the 3 day streak I had already started and tried to push myself to continue it for as long as I could.  I vowed that I would go easy on myself if it was a decision to medicate or have a major mental breakdown, I would medicate.  I believe in 3 months I may have vaporized about 3 times only.  but I EAT edibles on the weekends to get high and have fun dancing and enjoying my life as opposed to using weed to just get through each day.

Previously for me, marijuana was the anti-depressant that I felt was the very thread of my survival.  It was painful for me to think of not having it in my system and there were many many times when I would be driving to the dispensaries in LA with tears in my eyes.  I’d sit down with my grinder and vaporizer tube and count backwards 5-4-3-2-1 and then after 2 inhales I would be relieved of my pain, my tears would dry and I would feel better.  Medicated.  Positive thoughts again.  In July of 2011 it was getting really bad for me, the weed was not really working that well.  I was ready to get on psych meds, the intake staff person told me he had an art gallery so I sent him some of my artwork (which is sexually charged) from my phone giving him my number as well and he started pursuing me in hopes of trying to PIMP me.  (he told me he had experience in that game and then ended with a “I’m kidding” when he noticed I reacted negatively). No lie.  My path is full of vultures, I constantly have to breath fire in their face and make them back down.  Thank God for the ability Sprint has to block numbers from calling and texting you.  During the time he was trying to contact me a lot, he had just gotten fired from that place and just got out of  jail for a getting in a fight he casually told me in our 1-2 ever conversations which always ended with a “sweetie” at the end of them.  Remember, pimps can live anywhere, be of any race, age or gender but most noticeably seek you out when you are at your most vulnerable with offers of help and resources.

That center did a half assed intake and never called me again even though they charged me $20.  I wanted my money back!  Apparently, although they didn’t inform me in any way, I guess I wasn’t insane enough to need their help.  I was disenchanted to say the least.  I decided I would try St.Johns Wort and it worked a miracle on me.  A true saint indeed.  As an uninsured American, herbal remedies are the KEY to my survival.  I use St.Johns Wort (SJW) in combination with Passionflower (for anxiety) to ease my pains and it helps me get through each day without marijuana.  I wanted to prepare my body for the baby that I wanted to have in the next 5 years and although I do know mothers who have used weed to term and bore healthy babies I thought it would be better if I cut down.  I NEVER thought I was going to be able to.  My weed use as decreased by 75% with the help of my other herbs and I haven’t had a medical card since August which means I haven’t been able to enter any medical marijuana clubs since then either.  My vaporizer is shelved, my bongs are dusty, my grinders are put away.  I am a marijuana supporter and sympathizer forever but I’m no longer a stoner.  There are no actual weed flowers in the house!  That, to me is amazing.  For me to go 5 straight days without medicating with weed is no less than a miracle.  Its been 3 months and I am still amazed every day.  In previous years when I’d done cleansing experiments, I’d used passionflower to be clean during the day, but then I’d eat an edible every night.  I’d try to make rules saying I would only smoke when the sun was down, but I’d be anxiously awaiting the sunset.  But I wasn’t using SJW yet.   St.Johns Wort helps with mood elevation and depression.  It helps me balance my brain chemistry.  I have been resistant to daily anything in my past.  You couldn’t get me to take vitamins, supplements, birth control pills daily nothing.  I’d forget, I’d skip, I’d stop.  But I take my herbs with my coffee every single day now just like I used to sit there all day in front of my home office computer with my vape tube in my mouth every hour because IT WORKS. and it works well. Some herbal remedies don’t always work on me.  People swear by 5HTP but I tried that and it didn’t do the trick like what I have now.   For me personally, I wanted to go back to a time when marijuana was recreational over the time when weed was something i would fear being without for too long.

Sometimes I still have anxiety and hard times but I’m able to push through them without weed now.  I am stronger.  I made myself stronger and I am proud of myself.  I’m not sober, I’m not clean, I’m just a new version of the same old me.  To not have the kind of depression problems that I have been plagued with for years is such a relief.  If you have never been there, you probably don’t know how dark the darkness feels even in the light.  I would be at the beach trying to lift my mood but I’d still feel hopeless, negative, worried about the future, hearing voices of defeat and the worst lonliness, even when I was trying to fix my situation by try to go out and dance (alone and go home alone w/o conversing with another person), watch a movie (alone) or go eat (alone) or to martial arts or yoga classes.  I would make a log of the time when I’d just sit in the car in the parking lot and feel that there wasn’t anyone in LA who was lonlier than me at that moment.  It is still an ongoing battle for me.   but I am happy to have this under more control.  I just got high yesterday, because, hey it was FRIDAY!!  i started to have inspirations about ideas for new paintings and decided to start painting again.  I was going off on idea after ideas and facebooking manically with joy.  That’s what weed does to me.  The ideas are real.  The ideas are still good.  Its just that now that is not me everyday, the amount of ideas that I spew out are more manageable and realizable.  If I was feeling like that on a daily basis, I noticed I would get frustrated at how I knew I was never going to follow through on these ideas because it would be impossible to manage them all well.  Idea diarrhea got annoying at meetings as well.  I’d be like hating my own interruptions and blurting outs. Fuck I shouldn’t have said that.  o well i just said it.  i wanted to be in total control of my thoughts and actions again.  Before I met my first majorly unhealthy partner at 22 I smoked occasionally and didn’t even own a bong of my own!  But after we broke up was the beginning of my new found lifestyle which I was totally content with and loved.  I will never renounce it.  I’m just happy that I am able to overcome certain difficulties in different ways and the major suffering has eased.  And I don’t rule out that I may go back to those ways, but probably not.  I went from bong to vaporizer for almost 2 years, then SJI/Passionflower and edibles on the weekends.  Weed/drug use is kind of like sex work for me.  I’m not concerned about knowing when it will end, I can’t know that.  I will stop doing what I am doing now when I am no longer doing it.  Period.  I STILL have no regrets about ending friendships to people like Kristina Wong (who tried to shame me into quitting) or my ex roommates at the Basswerks (who ran an intervention on me as a condition to staying in the) house I lived at in LA who made me feel like shit for needing to medicate with marijuana.

I’ve been trying to cut down for years but I couldn’t.  I would not compromise my survival because I knew what I needed to be well.  If I don’t have my herbs I will also start freaking out in the same way I did when I was out of weed because I can feel when I am not medicated.  I am now just medicating with something else.  I am also super relieved that I did not have to get on any expensive and long term destructive pharmaceutical anti-depressants.  I love herbal remedies as well because it fits my budget.  If you are trying to ween yourself off of any substance: TRY PASSIONFLOWER.  It takes the edge and craving off of life and it works.  I swear by it.  I swear by both these herbs just like I used to swear my life on my indica weed.  I was in San Francisco for December 17th “International Day to End Violence Against Sex Workers” and Robyn Few, the founder of SWOP was there.  She gathered a circle of known potheads to share in her homegrown joints as usual and I did not partake!  It was the first time in the history of my sex worker activism that I didn’t smoke weed with Robyn Few when she offered.  Robyn’s love and her shameless weed smoking was the reasons that I joined the sex worker rights movement in the first place.  I had finally found my family I thought.  A bunch of loving prostitute stoner women hanging out in a room?  Wut? I’m IN!!!  It was a beautiful thing.  Robyn is still battling cancer with 2 joints in her hand, and I am still battling my demons too but we are both STILL ALIVE and kicking and smiling and looking hot.  SURVIVORS.  I asked her if she would ever stop smoking weed and she replied defiantly,”NEVER.”

This year music and art are my big goals.  I am going to Japan finally for an extended stay THIS YEAR for sure.  6 months to a year.  I’ve decided to leave South Central LA.  Sell my stuff.  go to Japan and make my own cultural journey without my mom’s help.  It is my lunar year.  The year of the dragon. This has got to be big. I will accept nothing less. I stopped going to weekly therapy at the start of 2012 and decided to direct that $25 into paying my pianist and start rehearsing with him on the regular again. time to get this music train BACK on the track with NO excuses.  Music is therapy anyway.  Singing sets me free and gives me immeasurable joy.  I need to do it like my other art forms.  Including my martial arts.  I had done my cabaret in January and then totally abandoned working on live music.  It got reprioritized, like my painting did. I come back to things.  but I don’t always know when.  I just had no desire to paint after I sold the last painting for $1600 and after David Perry died.  he was my painting partner.  my inspiration actually.  he was an awesome painter and the best friend I ever had.  I still miss him.  I make a mantel for his stuff in every house I live in and I told him I was going to paint again.  I said it to the mantel.  I told it to his face which was painted in his paintings.  Wendy Babcock is with him now.  I put her photo on his mantle.  I’m sure he’ll enjoy the company.

I’m already doing an exciting group show at the Aljira Gallery in Newark, NJ near Manhattan NYC and it feels like I’m going to start going somewhere again higher than where I am at now.  The curator is trying to get the show to travel to Boston as well.   There is another show at The Museum of Sex in the nearby NYC area at the the SAME TIME as the one that I am already in that is asking for a call for submissions.   I would simply have an art orgasm if I could actually have two major NYC shows at the same time!  Even just having the one show is amazing.  I am thinking that I am glad that I quit teaching and started focusing on my art and music again.  It is what I was meant to be.  not a teacher.  not a non profity worker.  Mariko Passion.  exactly who I am now.  I want to be singing in a club or restaurant with my pianist this year too.  But this always seems to be a goal.  It’s really nice ot have the visual art thing come back though.  trying to sell my shit in the back of bars and clubs in LA wasn’t going well.

I have decided to start painting again because I have been hit with inspiration for WHAT I would paint.  I haven’t painted for almost 10 years, I gave all my brushes and paints to my sister and quit until…perhaps now.  I’ve done  a  few small projects here and there but nothing has inspired me to start seriously painting the way I used to until yesterday when I get high I had these great ideas that I knew that I would actually follow through on.  These are NOT hallucinations.  It is just easier to produce my great creative ideas when I am not hearing voices from my family’s rejection telling me that I am a fat, can’t sing, too sensitive, wasting my life, not interesting, always broke.  When I am high I am nothing but positive almost always.  and more than that I am a creative genuis!!! At times like last night I wonder why I need to cut down in the first place.  It started with wanting to stop smoking because asthma but I still have asthma even though I don’t smoke or vaporize but its way more in control than last year.  I am always thankful and grateful when the pain is relieved.  I learned how to manage my asthma with plant medicines too.  Lobelia tinctures with water taste like shit but stop the wheezing.  Much better than paying big pharma $200 for an inhaler that lasts a month.  I learned how to use an alternative because I HAD to.  I like it that way actually and am really proud of the many many natural remedies that I have to cure asthma, yeast infections, bladder infections, depression and anxiety!  fuck yea!  I’m an amazing broke girl!  Really.  FUCK BIG PHARMA.

It’s the weekend, I’m high and practicing new songs to sing.  I’m bursting with creative flow and ideas and working on a proposal for the Museum of Sex due in 5 days.  Getting the New Jersey show was the first step.  The Museum of Sex is the 2nd.  The snow storm will follow.  I feel good.  I feel great.  Gonna have the whole world on a plate.

03
Jun
10

HELP make an art revolution in Las Vegas with me!

**UPDATE FROM 6/15/2010:  Yesterday we exceed our originally projected $2500 goal and are now watching the cup OVERFILL! We are already at $2779 with 3 days to keep collecting!!  This was the easiest fundraising for sex worker arts that I have EVER been a part of.  I must admit for a few days it was a little nerve wracking.  I threw in my framed art piece because I was sooo worried we weren’t going to make our goal.  I am so used to that from days of being in debt with SWOP-LA.  So much of my own personal money went into making things happen for us that I was almost used to having to resort to that sacrifice.   $1500 goes to the art track and $1000 of the money goes to scholarships for our participants.  Hopefully the rest of the money can go towards paying the artists who are also the volunteer organizers a performance stipend for the work they are performing for the conference.***

Did you know that the Desiree Alliance conference is in it’s 4th year and is the only sex worker led grassroots conference of ITS KIND IN THE U.S?  I am in charge of the arts and entertainment happenings for this amazing event happening from July 25-30, 2010 in Las Vegas, Nevada where most people DON’T EVEN KNOW THAT PROSTITUTION IS STILL ILLEGAL.  “Go to Vegas.” people say, but they have no idea that the “sin city” is really “hypocrisy” city to us because they not only outlaw prostitution in Las Vegas but they have been known to plaster on the front page of the local newspapers MUGSHOTS of the arrested sex workers to shame them out of the casinos!  I believe that Las Vegas fully represents the hypocrisy of America’s “freedom” around body and sex.  You can be a pussycat doll, but you better NOT dare be a pussy for sale cat doll or your ass is going to jail and the judge and prosecutors will HOPE that your life is ruined as a result!  And don’t get me started about the brothel system! If you have been following my blog, you should know by my first hand report that LEGAL PROSTITUTION in the brothel system is a replica of cathouse jail to me.

We are fundraising on a site called KICKSTARTER.  Check out this link and PLEASE DONATE! Even $5 will help and you will get a chance to get some fab premiums from all the hot artists involved..

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Here are pics from the 2006 public performance.  That year was instrumental in the development of my sex worker activism.  I had just quit teaching full time and decided that I would dedicate my life for the next now 4 years to art and sex worker activism and travel the world.  I had just crossed the line from being “just a stripper/stripper activist” to being a full blown full service escort and it was an amazing time in my life!  I was free and full of life and love!  I had just turned 30 and received a Masters Degree from one of the best schools in the U.S!  I was ready to be a free wheeling whore activist artist and travel the world!  But that’s how we do it, many many of us do this work to fuel our creative careers and MOST OF THIS GRASSROOTS MOVEMENT IS FUNDED BY OUR SEX WORK, but it would be nice if it could be funded by supportive allies in the community from other walks of social justice circles, so  PLEASE SPREAD THE WORD!  POST THE KICKSTARTER LINK ON YOUR FACEBOOK! SUPPORT OUR WORK TODAY BY CLICKING THE LINK AND DONATING!

I want to introduce you to Annabelle Xaah. She is an amazing sex worker activist of Asian descent that has been in the game since the age of 15!  She is now a neuroscience student at an IV league school in New York and she also is full of musical, writing and artistic talents!  We will be performing together in Las Vegas for the Desiree conference.  This video is a snippet of what you will see at the closing night party at the Erotic Heritage Museum, July 29th 2010.

29
Dec
09

Why don’t you just work without an agency?

I’m not that good with advice.  Because you don’t  know..you just don’t know.

I wish I could be a successful independent escort without agency bullshit and make 100% of my profits.  but i can’t.  Wouldn’t I just love to do phone and webcam work without depending on Niteflirt to get traffic to my listing?  Of course.  I just need as much money for advertising as niteflirt or cityvibe or eros or any of the agencies that i work for spend, which could be up to $1000 A WEEK.  Who woudn’t love to meet all the clients that I meet as an agency escort without having to deal with the bullshit.  Wouldn’t you love to be part of an elite $4000/hr Emperor’s VIP or young Heidi Fleiss type of agency if you were part of one?  I would.  But the stakes are higher as we’ve seen with Deborah Jean Palfrey’s agency scandal.

Why don’t you just go “indy?”

I tried to be an independent escort investing thousands of advertising dollars in the yellow pages, internet websites, weeklies etc.  I tried to be an escort agency myself (and only had the worst most undesirable women apply to work with me) and because I love all sex workers it was hard to be so shallow and even racist in order to make money.  I’d rather have others do that for me and me be the more innocent pawn so I can use the “I’m just doin’ my job” defense.

I am NOT the girl in the picture.  I am not the girl you talked to on the phone.  I can play dumb lots of times, because I truly am kind of dumb to the details.  It’s going to be at least $200 more than you thought you were paying and it might make you mad but i can’t care for you.  It’s YOUR LOSS or MINE.  and living on $20 in my wallet for who knows how long.  One indy client at $300 an HOUR a week, means you are living on $300 a week.  Not cute if you have rent and car payment and need to eat.  Another thing that makes it easier for me to sleep at night, is that if it isn’t me taking your money, it’s gonna be the bitch behind me and I’d rather it be me of course.  And, like I said, I’m nice, smart and I have sex.  Not as bad as it could be for the average agency trick.

To make the phone ring off the hook, you used to be able to use Craigslist but since CL has become the favorite of police stings and sex worker predators or you need to spend at least $500/month on various advertising sources (which also isn’t police sting and predator free either)..

and then there’s the hobbyist reviews boards which i DESPISE.  and coincidentally, they despise me too as made evident in a recent blog post that I wrote on one of these stupid white collar internet locker rooms.  (What’s on your menu?  Do you kiss?  Anal sex?  Can I review our sexcapades on the boards with everyone?  Can I eat “dinner at the Y” meaning Can I go down on you?) I HATE most hobbyists.  Their very essence is the core of my irritation with patriarchy and privilege.  It takes ALL the power I love about sex work.  I’m not a whore because i love sex and really want to submit to these motherfuckers.  Most of the guys I am fucking, I wouldn’t be fucking if they weren’t paying.  So trying to be nice, fake, shallow and dumb to uber male privileged dudes who I hate in order to drum up more business and ‘good reviews’  has never been my forte.  I am a sex worker because i am trying to reclaim power in a sexist and patriarchal world and maybe you think from the post below that I am totally CRAZY.  But I understand it.  I have never fought back against men like I have as an agency escort.  My recent relationship has also been a vicious verbal fighting one with power struggles as well…I know, you would look and listen to my relationship and say “I can do better.” but i’m single now and before that guy I was single for 9 years.  Being alone can be better but finding a good relationship is not always the easiest advice to follow.  It’s not something you can control all the time, even though you might want to .  Although, I am a MAGNET for low achiever, fixer uppers, men and women with addictions, jail and prison records..I shouldn’t be a prison teacher because I’d end up engaged to one of the inmates in a week.  Co-dependents can be the most romantic people, I swear!

What I hate most is that I can’t use my own photo and make a lot of money.  I have to use an agency photo that the horny client calls first and then show up and negotiate my way into the door and negotiate another two bills out of his wallet or credit card before we get into his bed.  For some reason when I post an internet escort ad on most of the major known websites, my phone doesn’t ring off the hook.  I don’t make enough to survive without working agencies.  It’s too bad, actually.  I wished my indy work could sustain me.  I would be fine JUST doing webcam and phone sex and occasional escort dates.   It’s not like I enjoy driving around from 8pm-6am.  Sometimes I put in 120 miles a shift.  I am my own driver.  It saves me money.  I dated a guy who I started dating by pulling out of a nightclub for a one night stand.  He had a small knife around his neck, that looked like a necklace medallion.  I think I could stand to invest in one of those.  When you actually have sex in agency work, I believe that you are a little safer.  I figure typical agency girls roll with drivers because none of them will even do a hand job for $500.  They make it seem like I crazy for doing half of what we say someone will do! I work for 2 agencies at the moment.  One is high end low volume and the other is my regular agency gig that I work at 3-4 times a week, that I tried to quit in April after keying up some guy’s car.  I steal clients from the agency by getting independent repeat clientele.  The 2 agencies I work at don’t care and don’t expect it, especially not the cash and dash agency but I have worked for some that instill fear in the workers and say that they have fake clients who check up to see if you are stealing clients from them by giving them your personal phone numbers.

Lots of agency work works out pretty well until someone traumatizes me.  Because I’ve been out of it for 8 months, going back has been kind of exhilirating.  I know that I can’t do it for too long though. I have learned my threshold for this work is pretty low.  It works well if you do it 3 months on and then off, if you can afford it.  I am prepping my resume with an internship so I can hopefully get some paid media work in the field I would LIKE to be working in, not one that I am settling in just to barely get by.  I don’t want to work full time in social justice non profit outreach work.  I want to be a singer, an entertainer, an artist FIRST.  then an activist.

But I know that it is only a matter of time, perhaps a week or a month until some blow up happens.  Mastering how to de escalate verbally without being hurt except by words and shouting.  I am great at that, but I have proven that I don’t take people’s shit on my knees with my mouth open.

Sometimes though, it feels like  I am asking for a dude to hit me, so I can press charges.  I fucking dare you to hit me.  I actually did this (dare you to slap me) in the 7th grade and a boy slapped me.  It was the first time (and maybe only?) time a guy has slapped me.  I didn’t press charges on the boy.  We were both in 7th grade.  but I was pretty moded.  I didn’t think he was going to hit me but he did.  It wasn’t too serious but memorable for sure.  Fighting is martial arts even when you’ve never really studied it.  If your opponent is angrier than you are you can easily deflect this energy by remaining rational and neutral.  (but still heading for the exit with your money in hand hopefully as fast as possible). Aikido combined with exit strategy..

I never wanted to carry a gun because I don’t like guns.  Having a gun on you will only get you in more trouble.  If you never draw a gun on someone, you won’t have to have the experience of having a gun drawn on you.  One of my other ex boyfriends was a gun toting weed farmer who was arrested for pulling a gun on someone on the freeway in a road rage incident.  Stupid gun behavior.  I’ve managed to not have any physically violent incidents.  The work is traumatizing on a regular basis, but it is also cathartic when you stand up to someone.

I have mace in my bag and I used to have  a stun gun but that disappeared a while ago…

Some of my fellow sex worker activist escorts that I’ve organized with in this movement are privileged enough to not have to take clients past 10pm and to not take clients who do drugs.  I have never done sex work that way.  I guess I’m just not that kind of working girl.  I did get a sugar daddy from agency work, and I am thankful to be doing this blog on a beautiful new MacBook Pro that I got as a gift from him.  I float from roach motel to 5 star suite between clients of various class levels both independently and with my agencies, but it’s just that the review board hobbyist scene doesn’t match my personality and I guess I like to play these party boys like slot machines, perhaps that’s what it is that I am addicted to.  I like to be the dominant collector of their consensual submission.   I have effectively found a home to a specific type of sex work that I have learned how to navigate quite well, how to exercise boundaries, practice plenty of sex worker self care systems.  One of my non profit harm reduction friends worked as a driver at an escort agency and is now an independent filmmaker, a recovered junkie and MARRIED to an escort he used to drive with the agency.  They are making a film about it.  Brad Pitt was once an agency driver.  My life is fucking crazy.  I can be in the underworld and blend into the straight world, and occaisionally flirt with the VIP world all in one week’s time.  I guess that’s why I do.  This chapter of my life clearly is not done.  I want to prepare a different career path while I do agency work just like i did with SWOP-LA.  I was the director of a non profit who went to meetings and training and I was prepping myself to be a full fledged legitimated HIV prevention funded non profit at one point but pulled out to save my soul.  My heart is not in that work.  I am an artist first and foremost.  I must now take my time, money and energy and not codependently work on the problems of other sex workers before I work on the problems of my own life.  I moved down to LA to get involved in the media capitol of the world.  I must now use agency work to do THAT.  My priority before was to use my money to decriminalize prostitution or further sex worker rights in LA.  I am trying to be a singer, a video and film producer, a personality.  I want to to turn this blog into a book and more…I wish there were more options than agency work, and there will always be people who say they don’t feel sorry for you, I have other choices, but I just don’t see them.  Or the opportunities were simply NOT presented to me, because if you think that I don’t try for to find them, you are wrong.  I am an overachiever and workaholic.  Believe me, I try.  Or the way I see the world is simply going to be different than others.  I tried it and I didn’t like it now I must do something else.  Transitions take money.  I create my privilege with this form of sex work.  I have to bust my ass it seems just to be on the bottom edge of being middle class.  and if i let go, like I did when I quit the agency how quickly I fall to stuggling broke ass class.  Hungry and hopeless in no time.  EVERYONE SAYS I HAVE CHOICES, and I guess I’ve already made them, but I never really saw them as choices, because I didn’t create the options, I just made the best of what was presented to me.  I hate the word CHOICES actually.  Hate it.  TEaching high school was not my lifetime pinnacle folks.  There are so many people who actually believe that and chastize me for CHOOSING sex work and sex worker activism over continuing to teach.  I taught high school to round out my activism that was pretty entrenched in sex worker issues.  To me, I became a qualified social justice activist through my experience as a teacher and upon getting my Masters of Ed.     To me the issue was crucial and dire and the sex worker movement needed me to return , and just like any other war needs soldiers, but now I am ready to work on my own battle more directly and thus the meltdown will hopefully have settled by now and I will now meld into a beautiful Phoenix Rising statue from the metal kiln..

04
Oct
09

The Vulture vs. The SuperWhore

Like a Hollywood movie, this episode seems to have a sequel which takes place the very next day!

I went through my now sold iphone’s phonebook to look for names of old regulars that I could do a desperate begging to and see if that would work to get more business, even though that has never worked in the past.  Although, it does work with the one regular law firm benefactor that is keeping me afloat barely but regularly..we’ve become good friends and I am completely honest about everything except the sex!  He’s easy.  He is not a vulture, he is like a savior for me right now.  But, his 2 appointments are not enough to pay for too much in the month so the trolling through the old phonebook still has to happen.  There was one old regular drug user fuckhead that I dropped because he was becoming more trouble than he was worth.  He would always text me incessantly while he was coked out about 100 stupid questions that I would try to answer because putting up with him was a good injection of cash, and he was always so high he was impotent so we would explore different ways to sexually please him.  Mostly by sticking most of my gloved hand into his ass which because he was high as a kite most of the time was like 102 degrees in there!  This is something I never hear people who fist people talk about..it’s like a frigging  oven inside the human body, it becomes too hot for the hand and you actually need to pull out so that you can cool it.  Or at least I do.  But I had fun.  I like anal domination.

As a favor to him, I decided to screw his friend for a mere $150.  A fraction of what I would get from my regular Ass Slave, Kenny.  Big mistake.  His friend was immediately too buck wild for me to control and it just became too much of an ordeal as soon as it started.  he was the one who tried to stick in my ass instead of my pussy, on accident, like 3 times.   I get the feeling most escorts like their sex easy.  It’s the porn stars today that need to be super fuck machines.  Escorting is barely about being a fuck machine.  Sex is like 35% of it actually.  I like my escort sex as a receiver to be EASY  and QUICK. (when you see a lot of people it’s usually about preserving your body.  A wear and tear issue).  Unless I like the guy and am having lots of fun.  Or there’s a girl involved, then there’s no clock!  Mostly,  I am a big fan of the 35 minute hour.  I know I am not in this work because I like sex.  I am in this work because I am regaining power from times I was assaulted, one night standed, sexually harassed or otherwise disempowered.   And I believe all sex workers have this in them too, because 1 out 3 of us have been sexually assaulted by 21 but most of us more.   I am here because I like to be in control sexually, and to experiment while the ball is in my court, when my experimental time is compensated.  I LIKE TO LIVE, IF ONLY TEMPORARILY IN A WORLD WHERE FEMALE SEXUAL POWER IS NOT ONLY POSSIBLE, BUT COMPENSATED.  WHERE WOMEN FUCK LIKE [MEN]..out the door without a second thought of the name of the person..  I am also here because I like making money off this work (even if I’m not lately..).  Because I want to feel the power I knew that I had and make him pay for it.  I like to fuck but only when I like you or when I am sexually deprived (like now!), but I wasn’t really having very real sex with clients during the 2 years that I was the busiest AND had a live in boyfriend.  Client sex was always quick and easy.  Boom.  Shower.  thank you.  Door.   Personal sex is totally different.  I’m actually submissive and more passive.  I’m tired of working.  I like to lay back.  I like to GET fucked.  And if you can’t FUCK THE SHIT OUT OF ME when I need you to, then I am totally and completely bored with you, because I’ve no patience for another pathetic penis in my week.  (I sleep with more men than women, not by choice but we’ll use that organ..)

Lately, however, since being single and getting kicked off of internet dating sites that I was getting laid on for selling webcam services to ugly dudes I’ve had to make my client sex my sex life.  I make them work me and they are the luckiest clients I’ve ever had because i am really insatiable for once because….It’s all I get for days.

But this fool was a girls worst nightmare.  Coked out AND potent!  Oh no!  They have a saying that the less money you get, the harder you have to get fucked, and often it is true.  After borderline violating me he would call my phone offering money and trying to see me again, but I never wanted to see him after that for any money.  I jumped out of bed when I could make a good exit, locked the door and jumped into the shower.  I could hear him grumbling and complaning.  Drug users are either unable to ever cum or unable to get erect.  Of COURSE you prefer the latter, because for some reason they pay better and are easier.  All you have to do is digest their mindless questions and repetetive chatter.  This vulture accepted that I was leaving and it wasn’t uncomfortable or dangerous which is why he was confused.  He was talking about “If you got a boyfriend or if you’re under 18..hey I ain’t mad at you.”  That was another line that this vulture just drew.  This guy was over 30 fucking 17 year olds.  I have ALWAYS detested that.  When I was 15 my 25 year old boss tried to sleep with me and date me when I was just trying to be his friendly co-worker, I thought.  He didn’t get me, but he tried really hard to court me at 15 like I was such a hot item.

The vulture would call and try to dangle promises of money for me, i would still not give in.  Because my caller ID had been cancelled, screening calls was harder.  Every time I would be confronted with him, circling over my head, the offer, the juggling of power..I imagined how he would prey on those underage girls who may have run away for the night because they get into a fight with their parents and he swoops down gives them drugs and alcohol and fucks the shit out of them.  Roman Polanski in a Latino tweaker.

My finnancial desperation makes me vulnerable to all kinds of pimps and vultures…Good thing I still know how to defend myself even when I am at rock bottom.  I would rather be flat broke and home alone on a Saturday night than in a fucked up situation.  And pimps hate me when I am unhappy with them and the work.  I am not profitable, so they fire me.  I got kicked out of Bella’s brothel after one week.  I get fired from office jobs for not engaging in Starbucks banter AND I get fired from massage parlors and stripclubs.  I am not a conformist, even as a sex worker.  I am certainly not a harem pony gawking over one guy with three others.  This has hurt my money I’m sure, but the ONLY way I have profted is when I was totally in control, if not disproportianately so, with their consent of course.  And years of this has healed me.  I walk down the streets of LA without a bra (cuz I hate them and my boobs are small) and without fear of men.  If they look at me, I look at them back and then they usually look away or say hi.  I might wear a look that says ” Yes, you know what I’m about..I know you have a dick and to me it doesn’t mean shit,so, what?”  even in glasses and sweatpants.  Working girls make eye contact back usually.  Matching the gaze.  “Go Ahead.  Ask me what my name is.”  The superwhore eye contact is an amazing language.  Try it when you drive by the boulevard at night.  If you were wondering if she is a working girl, you will be able to tell if she makes eye contact with you as you drive by.  Works everywhere you go.  It fascinates the shit out of me…

So I call Analboy kenny and he pretends he doesn’t know me.  “Wrong number,”he says when I call.  Later that night I’m getting a series of crank calls, but I don’t answer my landline anymore because that is the main number that most of the creditors call on.

My tutoring client is a Korean graduate student ane she cancelled on me, so once again I had no money coming in, gas light still on.  A weed client calls!  (I’m not a big pot dealer (so don’t come after me!), someone fronted me some of his stuff and it kind of acts like my social security check..It is not even the type of marijuana that medicates me (need indicas only), so I just sell it off.  This weed client is a tweaker.  He thinks that I don’t know but I have been around 3 years of drug users and late nite escorting so I am well versed in the signs and behaviors.  He is a nice tweaker, if there is such a thing,  a student.  He buys my mediocre weed and it helps me have that $20 in my pocket every week but I usually try to hang out for the obligatory 20 minutes talking politics, philosophy, whatever.  He’s too broke to buy sex so this will have to do for him.  and me.

kenny calls back and pretends to be friendly.  He says that he’s moved 40 minutes north of LA and that he had a bunch of coke and his friend was there..He is talking the way a DUDE talks when he is in front of his BUDDIES.  “I’ll just give you a buck fifty to hang out with my friend.” he says,”You did it before right?” he laughs.  “You don’t have to do much, just hang out and party..”he says.  This is usually what we would do anyway.  kenny was easy, but Vulture was not.  You would think, as an escort that I have to put up with this kind of crap all the time, but really the specific type of banter that goes on before men date or gang rape or the language that is common in rape culture scenarios is NOT something that I call normal or really tolerate for long in my sex work.  Many many of the men and groups of men that I fucked with were reasonable, humble and not vultures, even in groups.  There was a lot of crap to put up with, no doubt but fear and anxiety were not common or normal.  This is why I did it for so long.  To find this out.  To dance with rape culture, unconscious exposure therapy to try to make sense of the world that I feel was given to me.

All of what the guys that talk like this is just a FANTASY to them as well.  I once tried to have sex with 2 guys at once, the way they do in the porn movies because after seeing a double penetration so many times, you are actually conditioned to think that you want to try it!  And while I say i’m not in this work for the sex, the benefits of being a sex worker who is enticed with way more than usual combinations of sexual situations than the average suburban bachelorette party girl has its advantages.  So I did a DP for about 2 minutes before guy#2 gets flaccid and taps out.  “Uh, you guys go ahead, I’m gonna go chill in the other room..” he says and since my ULTIMATE goal is to make money over pleasure or experimentation I let him go.  There goes my porno gang bang fantasy.

The reality for MOST MEN is that they cannot do what porn stars do.  This is the reality for many women too.  I will be the first to admit to you, unless you are an escort client that I cannot legally talk explicit details of sex with, that I do not give PORN STAR EXPERIENCES (listed as PSE on review boards, even nastier than GFE).  I don’t go ass to mouth, I don’t do anal for dayz, I don’t do uprotected, I won’t eat your ass without a dental dam and I don’t like to blow bubbles with your semen..Sorry.  After watching all the porn that I do, I don’t really have a desire to be a porn star.  It seems more demanding than I am willing to be.  But for them it seems so easy and natural, so that’s why they do it and I don’t! when I wanted to go into porn, when I was 23, in Jenna Jameson’s day, it was easier physically, glamorous even.

Being a superwhore is more a state of mind versus how freaky the sex you are having or how much money you are making…but don’t get me wrong, the MONEY IS ESSENTIAL. This is why I am having so many problems with vultures and pimps.  If I was already making money they would have no power.  Annie Pannie was a sex worker I also recently mentored, 62 years young, powered by crystal meth and a superwhore always, even though she only made $10-20 per date.  She was insane but a true inspiration in small doses.

A 50 year old rocker woman just TRIED to pimp or madam me.  She showed me the garage to the apartment complex.  “You can park in the maintanence spots, they’re always empty.” she said.  “There’s my red corvette.” she said pointing out a 2005 or later model red corvette.  “It’s like my 5th one..”  I was viewing her 2 bedroom incall.  It was dirty like the last space I shared with the borderline disorder masseuse that I hated.  I am not the cleanest person at all but these bitches are always filthier than me.  Dirty toilet.  Never dusted.  One cheap unfluffy towel.   “I make sooo much money on Fridays.  I love it.  If my friends want me to go out, I tell them, ‘it better be worth $2000!’ and I listen to her tell me how her main advertising sources are Craigslist and Cityvibe.  I have worked Craigslist through an agnecy for almost 3 years and I know what people are paying and the type of clientele that she sees.  You cannot make $2000 being straight up and not doing the hustle that we were doing.  Collectively, my old agency was everywhere at once.  We were doing incall and outcall in every suburb of LA county with drivers to drive us.  That’s the only way you COULD do it and never with just one body in one place.  No one person makes that much, just being incall for $200 a pop without tipping.  That’s 10 guys in 12 hours!  Not even brothels try to promise that, although they would wish it upon you.  You could make half that at best running around all night, and in this economy it’s even doubtful they’re making 1/3.  No one is making $2000 on one Friday nite off of Craigslist and Cityvibe.  but I let her talk her talk.  I would have to see it to believe it and she was the one asking me to work for her, so if she had the clientele she said she did I would give it a try.  The next day we were supposed to meet at around 5 pm turned to 7:30 turned to 10pm.  When she finally picks up the phone she says,”Oh hey sweetie..Do you have a credit card with $5 on it so we can place an ad?”  WTF?? “No.” I said,”Sorry.”  I hear a voice in the background like a woman is at her place, probably another prospect. “Well, do you have a friend who does?”she says,”It’s only $5.”  I am so glad I am home cooking a meal instead of over there at that ratbag’s apartment.  “I’ll call you back.” I say hanging up Ms.Red Corvette that probably wasn’t even hers.  Jesus.  If you are trying to pimp me, you have to have MORE than me, not LESS.  Why would I give someone a part of my income if they didn’t have their shit together TIGHT.  My old agency had the pimp game tight with CUNT BOOKER BITCHES who would even make money being the voice of “me” demanding $100 cancellation fees from dudes that called a different picture off of Craigslist.  And sometimes these guys would hand me $100!  (Of which cunt booker would take half) and that was the kind of typical agency hustle that would happen.  If it weren’t her, then you would have some goon driver to back you up.  I never did it that way, I preferred to endure all the verbal and possible physical confrontations myself.  Exposure therapy.  or something else I haven’t processed yet.

I tell Kenny I am going to deliver something first and I’ll call back to get the address.  It took about 30 minutes for the anxiety attack to come on…I imagined attempting to have to tell Vulture no and how irritating and potentially dangerous that could be.  I imagined just getting fucked up and putting myself in a risky sexual situation because my life was so depressing and perhaps I might go home with some money…Drugs would be nice..Money would be nice.. but vulture, he would never be nice.  And vulture + kenny would not be nice.  They would be irritating and annoying, and I would be high on drugs, far away from my house.

I facebooked my process.  Insatiable pull to do something risky.  self destructive.  I wanted to go there and make money and come out ahead.  I did not want to let those fools get to me.  But I was having a PTSD attack and starting to feel sick to my stomach.  I was smoking bong hits to calm my nerves.  I finally got the nerve to get up and get to my delivery.  I resolved that I was not going to see kenny and vulture.  While almost to my delivery spot, a car came out of nowhere and I almost hit it 10 minutes away from my destination.  This is how I know it is what I call a PTSD attack..it becomes unsafe for me to drive because I start to dissassociate, to leave my body.  I usually come back pretty quick, but its better if I’m not driving.  It’s scary.  Your body is trying to protect itself but it doesn’t do a good job of it when it’s in this mode.

I get to tweakerkids house..”Hey,” he says and I’m glad to see him.

He hops in my car and he pays me.

“You got any other drugs?” I ask.

“Yeah, [thought you’d never ask] You wanna come in?” he says.

He’s chillin with a Latino 20 something, smokin a little meth and watching music videos, nothing too crazy…

I need to decompress my thoughts with someone, anyone.  Facebook helped a bit but I could tell I needed more…The idea of the proposition of going to see Vulture and kenny actually sent me into a post traumatic anxiety attack and I didn’t even go over there!  It was the prospect of having to face someone that had violated you again.  I’ve done it before and i don’t like it, although in my case it was at a funeral and it worked out well but still clearly my body did not like it judging from how much I was freaking out.

I wanted to do drugs to escape these feelings.  I knew that he would have something.  Not my drug of choice but something.  I was seeking safety.  this concept is straight out of a clinical book I am reading to heal myself.  We call it “medicating” even though it is drinking, smoking weed or something else because it is how we have coped.

I hit the glass pipe and watched the white meth smoke make a long cloud…bigger than the exhale of marijuana smoke.  I did that about 7 or 8 times and told them about my definition of anal violation and why I was even tripping.  2 other guys listening to my story and not hurting me.  My weed client and I were used to having intellectual conversations about various things and that’s why he liked me but I’m sure his best friend was shocked by me.  “I’m an escort, right,”I say,”and I’m having this dilemma…” i know it’s not a normal intro to someone but I’m far from normal most of the time. I stayed for another hour, the drugs were weak.  I wasn’t getting that high.  I suppose I was supposed to stay all nite and all morning.  “We can go out and get some more.” he said but i didn’t want to. “I didn’t know you do this..”he said smiling..

“I don’t.” I said.  “Tonight is just crazy. I need something, that’s all.”

I drove away from there, straight to the gas station to make my needle go from E to F with glee, and realized I wasn’t tweaked at all.  In hour later I was in bed.  I thought I set my cell phone alarm but apparently I didn’t press the DONE button.  I woke up late and with an $80 ticket on my car.  the 2nd one in a week.  My therapist tried to blame it on me smoking meth, but smoking meth with them was my harm reduction.  It was the best thing I did for myself in comparison to going to try to fuck with the original proposition of seeing if indeed they wanted me to come over there to just “hang out.”  I texted him before I went to bed “I CAN’T FUCK WITH YOUR FRIEND.”  I didn’t even know if it was a real proposition either, because Kenny didn’t even call again after I went to sleep.  and usually he would call back a million times but he didn’t.  It made me think in the morning that it was all a hoax.  They were going to lead me 40 minutes into a fake address for nothing.

Everyone is so freaked out by crystal meth.  Having hung out with queen of long term use, Candy, the one I was an unofficial social worker for, I should be freaked out by it too.  Having overdosed in the desert and landed in the emergency tent with a rehydration needle in my neck, you would think I’d be freaked out by it too..  But it doesn’t call me to do it.   I do it so very rarely just to triumph over that time I did it in the desert ten years ago.  In total I’ve done it less times than you are probably thinking right now.  The side effects are so major and long term compared to the high though.  For the next two days my throat was soo insatiably dry.  But I didn’t even get high, which what was annoying.  I went to sleep!  My anxiety was gone, and perhaps that was the high.  Like Ridlin for the ADHD kid.  I talked and these boys listened and maybe that was the high I needed.  I had no fear and no regret and that was the best thing that I could have done with the way I was feeling.  In some people’ (like my exboyfriend)’s minds I hit the evil crystal pipe and I was on my way to hell.  To me, I sought safety in it and in these other strange dudes who I was more sure were not trying to hurt me.  And I sat there smoking and educating them for a minute and then I went home calm.  I sit here blogging it trying to explain, but hopefully someone out there reads this and has been through something similar.  It’s called Seeking Safety.  It’s a book I’m reading about PTSD and drug use, but I’m adapting it to marijuana use which I don’t actually see as drug use… I smoke weed everyday and I don’t see it as a drug.  Other drugs I might sell or do with clients when they come around, but I don’t usually seek them.  They fall in my lap.  This particular night, however, I sought them to block my path to self destruction.  It was a substitution reckless for another reckless act, but since i didn’t really get high, it was not that destructive.  I fantasize about being on the border of creating a new sickness, an addiction which countless drug addicts have done to make sense of all in life that is so troubling and so traumatic but not physically visible.  So they create diseases and absesses so the world can see them suffering, or at least if not the world, they themselves can see it.  I am not there.  or even close.  yet.

i  may likely indulge  in recreational/casual and impulsive drug use (like this) well into my late 50s or beyond as long as it is around me.  Meth is just another drug, not more powerful than the others but one I stay away from because of the harsh side effects to my singing muscle (so drastically even after one use)  and my real dreams.  i remember Candy used to call me and he voice wasn’t understandable, the meth smoke had mangled her vocal chords for the week and maybe longer, the words fading in and out with so much strain.  Listening to Whitney Houston’s voice after cocaine is such a shocker.  She was the greatest love of all!  A gold medal Olympic level vocal athlete..and on this tune “i didn’t know my strenghth” she sounds like older Patti LaBelle.  or Taylor Dayne.  Worse.

Sex work does not always have to be risky, deceptful or include drugs.  But for me to usually profit, it had to include one, the other or both.  Right now, I am not advertising, work is slow so risks are cut down,  I’m not on Craigslist cuz they blocked me, I’m not on the corner… or crusing bars in downtown hotels even.  I cut out bad regulars like Kenny (again) but mostly I quit my traumatic and risky agency job.  Independent escorting doesn’t pay the bills for me, unfortunately I only really made most of my money being the “bait and switch” closer who stayed up and drove 3 nights a week til 6am.

I should be rewarded for reducing risk, but instead I am paying the price of retiring from a lifestyle that I struggled to hold on to as long as I could..making money was constantly traumatic like this…that’s why I quit.  this is why I am broke.  If I could work for a real madam or pimp who booked Elliot Spitzer types of clients then I’d be happier.  But there are also risks there.  now you’re in Federal outlaw territory where speaking out will land you tied to a roof with a noose around your neck and suicide note in your handwriting that you didn’t write.  (DC Madam, Brandy Britton)  But I like pure risk free non dangerous clients that compensate well too.  And I feel like I deserve them but don’t know how to get them.  And of course everyone knows what I am doing wrong but me and how I could or should be making more money like them.   Instead I’ve been a hustler on the agency circuit, craigslist hustler, internet whore…Any big money I ever made always included one of us fucked up on drugs or alcohol.  And it usually wasn’t me.  And I don’t feel bad for it at all because if it wasn’t me collecting their money during their blackouts, it would some other bitch.

#2 HOE COMMANDMENT

If you are in it to win it, you MUST remain MORE sober than them.  If you stay slightly in more control than them, you will usually profit triple.  Do drugs to socialize and gain trust but not to get fucked up. If you sell it, don’t carry it on you, cut it down and tax it triple.  (Buying from me is like buying a beer at a football game.  You willingly and repeatedly consent to any inflation.)

Everyone has PTSD.  The world is so traumatic.  We seek to replay these traumatic sequences and do something about them, to regain control.  And I like a superwhore trying to save myself and the world, could have it no other way which is why I never felt like sex work is always a choice.  I was like one of the superheroes who found out about their super power when animal hairs started growing on their back..and my fate also has been very similar…stripping started to set me free, and real sex for money set me more free.  Smoking meth and going to sleep is not the usual prescription for harm reduction, but I have to say, I am very glad that I resisted all I did and came out ahead without even fighting.

02
Oct
09

Pimps and Vultures

Settling into my office chair, medicating and trying to make sense of the anxiety and apathy I feel this afternoon.  I cashed a check from one of my few regular rent paying benefactors and turned in a partial payment to my property manager.  I’ve been paying the late fee and paying 60% of my rent on time for the last 4 months.  Sometimes it takes me up to 2 weeks to make $300.  Somedays I go for 7-8 days without income.  Last month, I paid the rent with the money the guy who crashed into my car gave me and a $175 focus group.  And it wasn’t in full or on time.  Yesterday I think I threw in my minds towel.  I hate not being able to afford to eat a small pizza and drink wine at a restaurant that I am trying to clammour onto the stage list to sing a song with the combo that has been hired for that night’s jazz open mic.  I go to venue after venue trying to get on stage this way, and it is never guaranteed.

I got caught trying to ditch the pizza and wine bill last night.  I played it off like I was going outside to take a phone call but the waitress caught on and ran after me.  “Are you going to settle your tab?” she said.  “Oh, my bad.” I said reaching into my pocket for the last $20 bill I would have for who knows how long.  I felt inclined to steal from the owner who was heavily flirting with me and had comped me a house cock-tail while I waited for my turn.  It was what I needed and more.  I would love to just be holed up in some room somewhere with some dude doing lines and getting wasted instead of try to figure out whether I would ditch my restaurant tab so I could fill my gas tank and get home from the Valley.

The restaurant owner was also a vocalist.  It was like he knew what I was about, pulled his chair up next to me and asked me what I did…I always accept propositions, especially from potential tricks.  And if they sing and own restaurants but are still sleazy then I automatically try to work them.  Heterosexual and in your 40s, flirting with me is like stoking my hustlers fire and begging me to ask you for money.  I used to be sooo good at ditching the bill when I was younger.  Not that I’ve done it a lot.  Especially not in the ten years that I’ve been doing sex work, it seems like money has never been so scarce.  I was embarassed a bit that I got caught, but the residual feelings just turned into anxiety which woke me up at 6am…How bad are things in your life when you have to steal food? But I’m stealing access to the social network which makes me feel and be normal instead of the gold digging thief that I just proved myself to be.  But I was hungry, there was a 2 drink minimum and I needed the wine to calm my nerves before going up there.  And driving home with your fuel lite on means that you need gas like you need food.  But you could do nothing and stay home.  and not sing.  and not drink and not try.  that’s what fake sister would say.  Or real sister perhaps.  The I love you card idea did NOT go over well.  It was a disaster.  My sister who lent me money is only really capable of that.  She does not want to dialogue with me in any sort of emotional way, became attached to her significant other at age 17 and has been able to be more involved in that family and now her own instead of ours for almost 20 years.  I asked her to say one positve thing about me.  She said,”Nena (her daughter) says you make nice presents and she lets us play games on her phone..” I was talking about how she always made me feel like a pathetic loser earlier.  I said,”I know that the kids love me, but can YOU?”  and if it wasn’t one or two word answers as her response, she said,”Stop texting me.  I’m watching D (her son’s) game.”  No reciprocation.  No support.  Yes, she gave me $500.  But that’s the kind of loving supportive environment I was raised in.  That’s the relationship I have with money and love and survival and why I have become the urban geisha.  All of the most famous ass kicking trailblazers in entertainment have the need to find LOVE from an audience or a greater entity than their family.  Michael Jackson said “I just wanted to be loved.” in his tapes.  Jenna Jameson.  Madonna.  All of them had dysfunctional emotionally blind parents who never acknowleged their gifts so they had to go above and beyond them to prove to themselves and the world that they were worth loving…

When I was losing my virginity with my first boyfriend, my mom let him stay at my house almost every night.  So did his mom I guess, come to think of it.  My sister’s boyfriend’s were also always at home with us and my mom was at work always late at night trying to raise the family.  For that I give her the credit she is due, but her lack of interest in what her daughters were doing with their romantic and sexual lives during a crucial period in their development has also had a huge impact on who I am.  My mom is bad with setting boundaries, she never told our boyfriends to go home.  It’s no wonder I have a codependent boyfriend addiction today.  Some people think that because a mother or father did “their job” by birthing and raising you that they deserve unconditional love forever.  But I’m a big one on reciprocal love.  I love those that love back.  This is why I have Scarlot Harlot, my whore mother.  She talks about emotions and has mentored me out of the darkness, lent me money and far more than my real mother would ever dream of.

When I got my Master’s Degree from Graduate School, only my dad was present.  No one really cared or gave me credit for getting another degree or being a teacher.  It did not matter to them whether I was a teacher or a prostitute, so it’s not like I did it to rebel.  I got into the sex industry as stipper because my mother kicked me and my sister out of her house because we got tattoos.  My tattoo was of a magic wand and barbed wire to commemorate the pain of her rejecting me after I told her I had been sexually assaulted.    The family preferred me to be a teacher, I guess, but they didn’t really care either way.  Losing my apartment here and moving home to my sisters house to live with my mom would be the equivalent of emotional death to me.  I’d rather explore other options, like stab myself with an HIV+ heroin needle.   When I am out of pot and in the throes of depression, I have those thoughts.  My therapist says that they aren’t real plans but after having a pimp come to my house and try to hustle my soul, I think that no one really knows how thin the line is between sanity and insanity, between living and dying.  I work in the AIDS grocery handout program as part of my punishment for my prostitution conviction and I get to see all the people in LA dying and living with AIDS.  They stand in line weekly to get their “neccessities of life.”  Meat, milk, cheese, toilet paper, shampoo even.  It is more generous than the food stamp program that non AIDS residents get for sure.  I concur with them how great it is to have these necessities.  Being broke too I am so grateful when I can finally get money to get MY neccessities of life after going without for days.

I am in PURE  survival mode and getting away with it without getting caught was pretty much the name of the game as an agency escort, of which I spent my last 3 years in LA doing.  I’ve pulled twenty dollar bills out of the pockets of assholes that claim they don’t have money to tip me, and even though I was the wrong girl, I felt DETERMINED to get mine.  (think of the M.I.A song “take your money”).  I had gotten dressed and showed up goddamit.  These guys OWED ME something for my time.  And if I could get it, I would try.  Some of them begged me to hit them.  I put my foot in the door of his condo and he put his fingers on my middriff and pushed me back.  “Yes, I am putting my hands on you…what are you going to do about it?” I fancy he says…

FUCK THIS DRUG ADDICT UP.  He’d make a good punching bag.  Do it.

I am officially sick of always being broke.  This has to be the longest streak I’ve gone without caving in and going back to the agency PIMP or going back to the not solving anything with my pathetic codependent boyfriend (living off the avails without working=pimp) or even worse with a real Black PIMP from the LBC.   And every other day I am getting hit hard by the parking ticket police and/or by overdraft fees.  Taxing me.  STATE PIMPS.  Banking pimps.  City of LA pimps.  There is NO way to do community service in LA to work off your parking tickets.  If you can’t pay the $80 ticket, it doubles in 21 days and then caps off at $120.   I pay them so much more than I make and they are so good at keeping simultaneously poor and dependent on what they have.  (A bank account and the right to park and drive in the city).

I have a parking ticket DISORDER however.  I have no idea what is wrong with me.  I wish I could cure it.  I wish I could get a parking space by my house, that MIGHT solve the problem.  I was just sitting at my desk finally daring to look at how much I’ve accumulated in just ten months of driving and parking with anxiety, depression, frantic panic attacks (usually caused by getting tickets)..I currently owe the city $1100.  It is insane.  I could have gotten my wisdom teeth which are impacted and aching on my jaw everyday extracted.  If you are too poor to pay th original fee, you will be taxed TRIPLE. And eventually when you get 5 tripled tickets that you can’t pay then they drive around with a metal boot for your car, so you are forced to pay the tickets to get the boot off. Your choice?  Not drive or leave LA.  If the bank decides to fuck up your account by holding onto one charge just long enough so that your account overdraws in their favor, they will gladly hit you up with 5 overdraft fees in a row.  Too broke to pay your bills?  PIMPS LOVE THIS.  THEY ARE VULTURES.  Preying on the weary and the hungry.  Brainwashers and Liars.

Golddigging for sugar daddies on the internet will attract real pimps.  You can find them in the adult gigs section of Craigslist looking for their bottom (#1)  bitch..”Be in charge of the other girls.”  Pimps come in all colors and are usually MALE, when i refer to them.  Having a healthy distrust of Black male “clients” in the sex industry is generally a good idea especially if they are talking about spending money on you.  Real Black clients with money don’t front like that because of the pimp reputation that is already laid down.  Silent rules like DON’T do dates in your own hood, or going into bad neighborhoods. There is no anti-racism in your protective plan.  Just stereotypes and plain reality of your chances of survival.  I once took a bachelor party gig in the hood.  I wasn’t the dancer, I was the “security” LOL.  The dumb bitch I booked to dance did such a shitty job for all 12 of these Black guys, she nearly got us killed, but instead they stole back the money they paid us and none of us got paid.  But no one does Bachelor parties in the hood for a reason…the stereotypes are usually true.  This dancer was Black and she was too scared or lame to dance for them…that’s when you know you’re in trouble.  MOST Black sex workers don’t like Black dates.  If it isn’t because they know that there are a lot of Black pimps and they are already loyal to one, it’s because Black men have the rep of not tipping and being really really demanding for $1.

Legally, anyone who profits off of the avails of prostitution could be charged with pimping.  In that case, I was technically a pimp.  Therefore, every business a prostitute frequents could be her pimp.  Female management, madams are pimps if they EXPLOIT, LIE, BRAINWASH, IMPLANT FEAR, PHYSICALLY OR SEXUALLY ABUSE/ASSAULT, MANIPULATE WITH DRUGS OR OTHER DEPENDENCY, and INDULE IN HEARTLESS CAPITALISM UNDER THE FACADE OF SOMETHING MORE BENIGN (“democracy” or “eradicating terrorism” “protection” or “home”) or even NOBLE.

Stripclub Managers, their goon security, their entourage of VIP bitches, their illegal stage fees are all part of the biggest LEGAL non Black pimp game in the U.S.  Holding girls in the dressing room while management beats up a customer is PIMPIN.  Telling a stripper to come up to his office so she can work off her stage fee is PIMPIN.  Stage fees period are pimp shit.  Making a stage fee so high that a stripper HAS to fuck in order to pay it.  Lying Sack of shit mafia lawyers.  And it happens in every club across the U.S..PIMPIN SOOOOO EZ..

Not all sex industry managers have to pimp.  But some always do because they can.   Like those posters you see of home loans in Bank of America and Wells Fargo Banks.  “We’re Here for You.” they say. “We’re more than just your bank..”they say.  Yeah.  I say.  You’re my fucking PIMP.  You are a brainwasher and liar and you are TAKING MORE MONEY than I’m making in overdraft fees.  You are hindering my survival yet I am dependent on you.  And if you are the bank backed by the Federal Reserve and the Presidents word then pimpin IS EZ and it is done on the backs of those that can afford it the least.  And then there are the pimpable.  the vulnerable.  the addicted.  protective armour and boundaries were beaten or raped out of them, made weaker by addictions…the hopeless codependents looking for someone to lead their way even if it means taking all they make in exchange for housing and paying a little attention to them, enticing the carrot of love in front of them…

Pimpin can also be a deadbeat boyfriend who makes a girl work in prosititution before his lazy incompetent rock star with a habit or aspiring mafioso plan can make some money to pay the rent or bills.  A manager who directly profits off of booking his girlfriend.  My exboyfriend may not have really like that I was a sex worker, but he lived off the avails, and at times was employed as my driver, my errand boy who would make a little money every time I made money, so he could not complain about anything.

Now the aforementioned Black pimp both IS and is not an urban myth.  As I’ve mentioned not all pimps wear hats and gold teeth (but some DO! FOR REAL!).  Some are even female.  Bella of Bella’s brothel and her daughter were exploitative pimps.  They loved to make the street workers NEED the brothel.  The same thing is happening with the current legalization movement in Nevada.  The brothel owners create a hysterical public outcry against “illegal prostitutes” so the the only viable option would be working in the “safer” and “cleaner” brothels.  All brothel owners ARE pimps.  Most of them men, one woman.  Dennis Hoff is a pimp.  Bella’s daughter showed me pictures of a bruised beat up worker who had gotten beat up by her trick once she dared tried to go “independent.”   Hue Heffner and his girls next door?  This fool is pimpin so EZ that he and his girls are socially acceptable to most middle American bachelorette party girls watching in envy as Kendra gets married to some football player..

So recently I talked to a Black pimp from the LBC who lured me in as a trick with money that he wanted to spend on me.  As soon as I call back the number the person who picks up hangs up.  This happens twice.  I give up. Then he calls back the next day and leaves a message, talking about his phone was messed up.  After the second time I decided to tell his sorry ass off on his voicemail because I was already at the end of my rope with internet time wasters as it is.  He tried to pimp me on the phone by trying to make me feel sorry for him, saying his wife died in a car accident and he hadn’t had sex with anyone for a year since she died!  He was trying to get into my soul,”What’s the worst thing that’s ever happened to you?” he said and even as I spill my guts to you on this blog, I didn’t tell him shit.  “Why are you so mean?” he said steady trying to move forward on me.  I was entertaining his dialogue as an enlightened hoe I guess, trying to lure HIM while he was trying to lure me into his spell, hoping that there would some money at the end of the rainbow.  At that time my internet connection was shut off so I couldn’t look up his name or phone number and see if anything came up.  The next morning he says he wants to come over and because I am desperate and need money, I agree.  Then at the last minute he changes his donation to drugs.  He has morphine and vicodin and now he is a medical student at UCLA he says.  Oh, then when you come over can I see your student ID?  Of course he had none of this.  When he comes over in his Black Mercedes Benz with the tinted windows and the child seat in the back he shows me the bottle.  I kind of knew they were vicodin but he told me they were oxycotins which have a street value of $80 a pill.  I didn’t have the internet so i couldn’t look up the code on the pill..He was here already and I needed money or product, because I currently had nothing.

I broke the #1 hoe commandment:

DON’T GET PAID IN JUST DRUGS.  Either get some cash or nothing.  Know the street value of what you are trading. (Are you having unprotected anal for a $25 bag of speed?)  Get the cash equivalent.  Tricks that try to play you like this are just trying to use you and make you their dependent or sell you drugs or both. Dealers can break you off because it’s cost is nothing to them, plus they get pussy from phenes for free…but that’s NOT you, right?

I’ve run across major drug dealers and trade sex for drugs AND some cash usually.  It’s a barter system.  I sell it to the next crack head I see for triple.  But I’m careful.  Last thing I need is a drug possession and sales charge.  I tax it triple and never carry it on me, that’s the only way.  Women who hustle drugs are usually hustling sex too.  The two games are intertwined for women.  Why? Because pussy IS power.  and weakness.  Once, I got about an OUNCE of OG Kush from a pot dealer who was also a former owner of a revolutionary bookstore.  I sure wished he would have been a regular customer, but most of the dealers that I’ve happened upon don’t return my calls or pick up once I call again.  I believe they were either trying to sell me just drugs hoping I was a phene or don’t want anyone to know where or who they are.  Having seen first hand the shitty deals that try to go down when people are not doing SEX WORK but are TRADING SEX FOR DRUGS ONLY is never the cash equivalent.  Once you are in a place where you JUST trading, then you’ve probably got a habit and are probably hanging out with TRICKS who have NO respect for you, your safety or your boundaries.  And that’s how prostitutes get so ragged and fucked up by drugs.

This pimp was no different.  Everything he said was a lie, and he was a racist Black fool with an Asian fetish.  But I humored him because I wanted money from him.  Not ongoing sugar daddy money for I knew by now that he was a pimp, as he asked me to come live with him during our first phone conversation.   LOL, When I actually think about it I don’t think the Black equivalent to sugar daddy really exists.  There are ONLY Black pimps who are usually the manipulators not the manipulatees, which a sugar daddy usually is.  Unless you count Russell Simmons!  When he walked towards my house he kept looking behind him and he looked out the window several times while he sat on my couch.  I fucked him for a bottle of vicodin.  $60?  not sure, because I didn’t have internet but whatever it was it was more than I had before he came over.  I snorted a line and it gave me a buzz, but he hurried me to the bedroom saying he had to leave which didn’t give my body enough time to digest it.

Was this pimp a king in the bedroom like the word implies?  No.  He had a tiny little dick and he was done in 10 minutes like the rest of the good tricks.  He saw a kiddie piano that I had had since my San Francisco days, acquired from a lover I had then.  “I’ll give you $50 for this.” he said.”My son will love this.” and as I knew that he was lying, I really really hoped that perhaps he wasn’t as desperate for SOME cash as I was.  “I’ll give it to you next time I see you.” he said. and for the same reason it was that I let him get as far as he did, he was out the door with it.  I let it go as I figured that if I lost my apartment I would be having ridiculous giveaway yard sales of stuff I’ve acquired from old lovers but never used.  And he had a 1 year old who was crying on the phone while he was talking to me and trying to get me under his spell, trying to make this pimp seem more benign, because he was a Black man who took care of his kids.  I figured that the boy would enjoy it more than me and I was just letting it gather dust.  He would say over and over,”You don’t have to be so mean.  I’m NOT trying to hustle you.” he said looking me straight in the eyes.  and I didn’t believe him, and resented him for trying to play me but in a little way I let him. But I was being mean in order to protect myself.  Femme domme bitch screening a sub.  I was taking on something that I knew was risky but I would try to see if I could get something out of doing it.  I like to talk to real pimps sometimes just so I can confirm their insane thinking so I can write about it in songs.   “Why are you so mean?” he’d say not knowing that it was men like him who made me meaner and meaner every damn day.  All the Black girls in jail bragging about their pimps.  The girl who would “fuck so hard for her daddy once she got out”….for the same reason I worked at a brothel and allowed myself to be pimped for a week, I enticed a pimp to my house even though I knew he was full of shit and traded sex for drugs and a baby piano.  Good work Ms. Passion.  It’s all for art!  at least..

I can be horribly weak with those that don’t respect boundaries and can manipulate a no into a yes like it’s an art.  This is how my exboyfriend stayed in my house for as long as he did.  This is how a submissive got me to buy a PC laptop to do a website that he never did.  Once I got internet access and realized that every single word and sentence that this man said was a big lie I knew that I lost my piano and I had just been had for a $60 bottle of pills.  I thought I had scored some good dope, but all I had was crappy painkillers that sell on the street for $5 each.   But that’s the game.   Sometimes you lose.  And sometimes you play with people that you know are playing you for one round, just to try to strengthen your game, but it ends up hurting you more usually cuz the game ain’t designed for winning.  But he didn’t hurt me.  I’m not a drug addict or as hopeless pimpable as some of the girls he preys on.  I don’t need love from just anyone, especially not someone that I can’t control easily…not that I have to be dominant always, which as you see I’m not, but this pimp was so manipulative..I put his phone number in my phone under SLICKBACK and watched how many times since that day he’s tried to ring my phone.  I’m done with him though.  I fear pathological liars actually and what I did with him went against my 10 hoe commandments and I didn’t even really come up for it.  The pills were weak, nothing to brag about.  And this loser who said he was a former NFL football player now had a belly, was unattractive and a horrible lay.  The little boy was probably bottom bitch’s kid that he “borrowed” for our phone conversation.  Even if I was homeless and living in my car, I wouldn’t live with him.  I won’t even let him through the phone call that I pick up.  I lost the piano.  I don’t even want to hear a false promise to lure myself back  into any sort of contact.  Pathological liar and heartless = scary.  Keep my piano.  I’ll get something for these pills.

Another vulture tried to get me to come over his house in exchange for some kush weed.  Swoop me up and give me drugs and drop me off the next day with $100 and a sore pussy?  Puuuleease.  I’m not that much of a pot or coke head.  I don’t even think pot can tempt you quite like crack or other drugs can like that which is why people don’t call it a drug.  I’d rather steal my dinners than give in to pimps and vultures…but that doesn’t mean that they don’t peck at my body while I lay here trying not to die..

07
Jul
09

I know you’ve been missing my heart felt..

sacrificial lamb crying in the night blogging…I left it for the short documentary video that I produced with my partner which talked about the joys of public health care, STDs and our relationship.  It was in Sadie Lune’s curatorial creation for the 12th annual San Francisco Queer Arts Festival How timely of a campaign when it all seems to be on Obama’s mind as well.  funny how we are all connected (by Facebook).  I’ve been really trying to get on top of this online marketing bandwagon.  I’ve gotten savvy to Facebook, twitter (in 3 different personas) and it’s added an even deeper incision into the mainline of internet addiction that I have had for the last ten years.   I did a background singing gig for this neo soul singer on the 4th of July to boot.  I’m not sure if it is internet or computer addiction.  It started when I started doing paid freelance photography and graphic design jobs in San Francisco.  I became accustomed to a life of either sitting for 12 hours at a time in front of a computer screen or drinking 2 cans of Dr.Pepper and doing 7 hours of hustling and lap dancing for $500.  My life is somewhat still similar except that instead of the monotonous “Hi, do you want to dance?” I have to do the fun grueling early morning/late night drag through the “game” world.

I get woken up at 6:30am by my agency.  This is the only agency I work for now.  They are a national VIP level bait and switch, which is different from the local Craigslist bait and switch work that I was doing before…I wanted the bullshit and drama to be fewer and far between, I guess.  With this agency, I’ve gotten Malibu suites and mimosa clients who have left me thousands of dollars without spending time with me..through an agency placed Craigslist ad, I found a 3 month long sugar daddy..

I ‘ve quit the bread and butter of my livelihood, which was essentially like living the life of a cowgirl in a wild goose chase 3 nights a week.  I’ve tried to be strong with staying out of that work, in an effort to replace that income I’ve started to do phone sex and domination again, as well as break my webcam cherry!  this is the reason why I’ve been doing so much internet marketing you see..

Phone and webcam girl life has got a learning curve to it.  Niteflirt is the leader in “start your own” style phone sex operations, which I’m actually on, but they’ve lagged in making me an affiliate so, I highly recommend “Sugar Talk” as a better site, because if you click on the link, and sign up to be a phone operator with them I’ll get $45!  And the same can happen to you if you join!  This service also boasts a lifetime residual plan which is pretty unique for the adult industry.  Niteflirt takes 50% of your call rate and also CHARGES YOU to BID FOR PLACEMENT on their website.  It’s a bunch of crap really, but the more money you spend the higher placement you are in their roster of 1000s of women home alone…Just different ways to PIMP you.   But what can a working girl do?  Sometime in life, you just need to have a pimp of some kind.  I already knew this, so it isn’t much of a shocker to me.  Sugar talk calls their affiliate program Pimp Dollar!  But at least it’s an accurate portrayal of Pimp.  I don’t have a problem with some pimping.  Especially when I’m doing it.

I did my first webcam show, it was awkward.  My boyfriend keeps coming home to me dressed in lingerie in front of my computer holding a dildo and watching internet porn (which is not usually how I used to hang out while blogging for instance).  He’s seen me unplug my laptop, disappear into the bedroom for 10 minutes and then come right back and plug back in to continue my work.  The crazy life of a work at home professional masturbator!

Some guy wants me to sneeze while I call him and another guy totally educated me on being “chemically castrated” using Depo Provera, a chemical which when given to biological men renders them impotent and uninterested in having sex.  The court can order it for chronic public masturbators, child molestors and rapists.  This man told me he was a chronic masturbator and had been arrested 5 times, but since doing a regular shot of Depo every 3 months for the last 10 years, he’s been completely asexual but content..(aside from the fact that he needed to confess that to someone like me for money occaisionally).  It was the most fascinating conversation I had had yet, and one that would be unlikely in a live escort situation..

My most recent story was yesterday morning, waking up at 6:30am, driving 40 minutes to Orange County to this deliciously innocent and cute looking hapa (half Asian) crack smoking hustler.  But he didn’t look life a crack head OR a hustler.  His words, I look like “I just fell off of a Christmas tree.”  and he did.  I have a B-I-G weakness for both hapa people and especially 20 year old guys for some reason. Why? It’s from experience of course.  Some of the best sex in my life has been with 20 year old young men..the perfect Abercrombie model come to life in a insatiably horny and energetic fucking machine.  How perfect indeed.  In gay male sex culture, they call this guy a twinkie…

But this boy, lied to the booker about the fact that he was using credit cards, WAS USING HIS DAD’S CREDIT CARDS which were expired or voided anyway and gave me a pen which did not have the barrell to it, because he had already tore it apart so he could smoke crack with it.  He did NOT look like a crack head at all..Imagine if the boy in this picture was the baby face of this 20 year old smooth talking stud…

He knew EXACTLY what he was doing.  Some young guys have the knack for getting in the sack with hot older women from the gate and other guys with twice their experience and money still can’t get laid to save their lives.  The 20 year old was starting to see that his dad’s fake credit cards were NOT going to through, he lied to the booker and told her he was paying cash.  He was totally flirting with me and trying to get me to stay with him, on his full mattress futon bed in the converted dining room to stay with him, even though he just tried to credit card fraud me for $1000!

I JUST CAN’T SEND YOUNG MEN THAT MESSAGE!  I’m a courtesan with standards dammit!  At least give me SOMETHING!  hahaha.  Sometimes standards go out the window in this “game.” I’ve traded for a [broken] air conditioner, for quantities of weed (large and small)..This boy was trying to give me the keys to his truck (without the title) as collateral that he would be able to get my money if I stayed with him for 2 hours and then would go to get the money afterwards.  It’s 8am by this time, and here comes his Filipino dad who is about 55 coming in from rolling all nite with his friends at the Avalon in Hollywood!   I should have known when the address was TOTALLY DEAD WRONG.  The dad pops his head in and says Hi to me through a parental disdainful gaze.  I’m sure he has no idea that his son is using his credit cards with a hooker.  I grew up in a mostly Filipino suburb of the Bay Area, so most of my friends parents were Filipino immigrants, so it had such an eerie dejavu to my childhood having some Pinoy father say Oy to you while you were about to do something sexual.

But I didn’t let him get me.  He was slick and smooth and he tried hard, but I left him shaking my head..”Call me when you have money, babe” I said.  I left thinking dirty thoughts but it was mostly because he tried to rip me off that I didn’t stay, and it was also because he was so fucking HOT (even his little scam was kind of hot, like that Tom Cruise movie where he is a teenager seduced by an escort, remind me of what that is..?) but I just left it as a fantasy.  Don’t try to credit card fraud a hard working girl!  I’ve keyed up cars and kicked people’s doors in for moves like that!  The BEST sex I EVER had with a 20 year old happened one night when I was still just an outcall stripper (who staunchily did NOT have intercourse or even handjobs) with any of her clients under any circumstances, but one guy, a roadie for a rock band had gotten me so hot and I wanted to get laid anyway and GOOD LORD What a great decision that was!!  I remember feeling all sorts of guilt over doing prostitution, even though I justified that it wasn’t prostitution it was just an outcall stripping client that turned into a consensual sex date for free.  He had only paid for the stripshow, the sex was free.  This is what we are supposed to tell the cops in a court of law..I was so uptight before I was actually doing full service.  Really.  I was.

20
Nov
08

Miami Harm Reduction

I’ve almost been in Miami a week now.  The Harm Reduction conference was last thursday-Sunday in downtown Miami.  There was lots of amazing community building between drug users, needle exchanges, HIV prevention groups, sex workers and more..And the usual debauchery and meeting of activist/friends from all over the U.S as well.

I have stayed on to relax and enjoy the city, but also to work here.  Business is very scarce.  The phone barely rings.  I have NOT even paid for my visiting ad.  That is really sad.  The ONE guy I did get I picked up at a bar that has a rainbow flag outside of it, go figure!  This club seems to have a good mix of gay, bi and transgenders hanging out and flirting with each other.  It’s RARE to see all of the orientations dancing together unless it’s Gay Pride.  Even in SF and LA, transgenders prefer to have their own clubs.

My guy was bisexual, staying at the same hotel as me, but was a bit misogynistic and rude.  Pretty low paying as well.  But, truly since I am here dependent on this work, I see it as survival sex. I have tried to work the bars here, and have been extremely bold while soliciting guys that I think might be interested.  So far, I have not had any luck doing that either!  It is quite humbling.  There are LOTS OF WORKING GIRLS ON THE STREETS HERE.  It reminds of Waikiki in the 90s!  A limo driver told me that half of them are cops.  But I think that most of them are real working girls.  I see pimps out here with them too, so I know they are real.

Placing an ad on the internet as an independent, trying to work the streets and clubs of South Beach (low asking prices and high arrest risk) has yielded nothing.  Happy hour at my hotel with the wanna be hipster types–nothing.  Makes me grateful for the first asshole that came along, which I shouldn’t be.  But, if he didn’t come along, I would be unable to eat in the morning.  Since my “personal bailout” from credit card debt, I’ve also had to pay everything in cash.  the last time I was here I worked for an agency and rented a car.  But still, I don’t think I made that much money either.  The most I made was because I got a date hooked up by a stripper that I met through a lover here.  A job for 3 girls in a high rise tower of million dollar condos.  She was fucking gorgeous.  Smashing the ‘Black Girls don’t Make Money in This Business’ stereotype right through the fucking roof.  She was another hot bisexual stripper that teased me to death with no intention of being my girlfriend or having sex with me for that matter for her own amusement…

speaking of lovers…I managed to snag a 20 year old French boy from the service industry while happy houring at this hotel.  He was fun and cute.  He wasn’t really my first choice from all of the beautiful service professionals that I have flirted with while here in Miami…but he did well.  I didn’t make money off of him. But it was a very anonymous type of encounter, which might have well been sex work.

I’m glad that I have barely enough money to last another 1.5 days here.  Things would all change if I just got ONE appointment.  I HATE living on the edge like this.  This is the reason I work for agencies.  Everyone who says to me, “why don’t you just work on your own??” well, this is why.  Because when I work alone, I STARVE and turn into a DESPERATE whore.  And no one likes a desperate whore.




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