:eek:
And I thought I’d heard everything.
I was 17. I was very awkward around women and would blush and stammer a lot. A much older friend was having a batchelor party and I was invited. I got pushed into a back room with a hooker. It was very awkward…but I was more than functionally proficient. Supposedly 5 guys were in & out of the other girl’s room before I left that girl’s room, and she was pissed at the lost wages.
It felt odd, and rushed and I think that maybe I missed out on something. I never really was popular with girls in HS before or after that. I met my wife in college, and I’m rather glad she put up with me. I’ve posted pics in picture threads but its proved true: I’ve never gotten a positive response. I think I’m lucky; somehow I managed to find the one girl on this earth who’d put up with me. She even gave me kids. I couldn’t ask for more than that. Still, I sincerely do regret my first time…
Prostitutes have been to me.
In my official capacity as a physician, that is.
I had more than one commercial sex worker among my patients in days past.
I suppose that’s not exactly what you’re looking for, though.
I have the ‘thought I was stopping for a damsel in distress’ story, with a different ending. I was driving home from the closing shift at my shitty job as an Asst. Mgr at an Arby’s in Phoenix, AZ circa 1992. She was standing on Thomas Rd about 36th st. It was soon apparent she wasn’t just looking for a ride. I was taken aback, but single, lonely and horny. Why not? She wanted Fifty bucks, but I talked her down to twenty five. She needed a rock of cocaine so she could make it to church with her mom in the morning, was her story. She was menstruating and completely ruined this Joe Camel promotional windbreaker I had on my futon for some reason. “Sorry I bled so much, but you were pumping me pretty good.” she apologized.
More Bukowski than Bond, I think.
It’s easy to identify with only one part, but, as I’m sure you know, Sunset Boulevard is something like 20 miles long, going from downtown to the ocean just south of Malibu, going through three separately incorporated cities, from gangland Echo Park (“The Vida Loca”) and Silver Lake (“Swingers”) to ritzy Pacific Palisades, passing by the world headquarters of Scientology and the Self-Realization Fellowship, as well as Spago, the Beverly Hills Hotel, Bel Air, UCLA and Brentwood (OJ Simpson, Arnold, and Arianna Huffington). To a visitor who wants to see the real aspects of Los Angeles (not the Woody Allen version), I’d suggest driving from one end of it to the other (or taking the #2 bus).
The Arclight is in central Hollywood, where there are clubs and such, so on Friday and Saturday night, you see a lot of women “dressed up.” I live in East Hollywood, and at night I often drive by street corners in my neighborhood (on weeknights) where I see women who are probably prostitutes. But Sunset also goes through the city of West Hollywood, where they have signs that say something like: “No turns on Friday or Saturday night.” What seems to be a ludicrous law is an anti-prostitution effort. I think this is where the sheriffs stopped Eddie Murphey after he picked up a (transvestite) prostitute.
methinks there was a report that came out once upon a time that stated that it came out a lot cheaper than getting married
Since commasense is offended by any deviation from his theme, please visit the other thread an let me know if you have every thought your prostitute and why are they doing it.
My post is #74