I’m not actually a prostitute, but I’ve been mistaken for one. Does that count for anything?
This thread really needs pictures.
Once, late at night in Pittsburgh, I was almost mugged. (A guy grabbed my wallet. I didn’t let go. We played tug-of-war for a while before he went, “Fine, take your wallet!” and left.) My friend and I were still discussing this incident at about 1 a.m. when a woman fell into step beside us. She was very interested, but it was an interesting story. We chatted. Finally, in frustration at our denseness, she said, “Damn! That fat chick’s working my corner!” That was clear enough: we thanked her, declined, and left her to it.
I was in Paris last year, walking through La Pigalle, and had a hooker ask if I wanted to have sex… When I told her she wasn’t my type and I’d prefer her brother, she told me she could arrange it… :eek:
I declined her generous offer, but felt good that I had managed to have the whole discussion in French.
Yeah, the same exact thing happened to me in Barcelona . . . where they get your attention by going “psssss psssss psssss.”
Once, when I was living in NYC, my parents came to visit. They stayed in a Ramada Inn on 8th Avenue, at the time a major prostitution area. One morning my father went out to get a paper, and got propositioned. For the rest of his life, he never got tired of bragging that a hooker actually found him attractive.
I got propped once by a hooker. I was at a gas pump and this car was there. The girl was doing I can’t remember and she asked my name. I told her. She said “Can I come home with you?” I thought that she was fairly attractive, and dumbly, I thought that she just thought that I was some uberstud and we were going to get to know each other. This was many years ago, of course. However, what squeched the deal was the jerk that was in her car with her. hmmmmmm…and he was, what, leering? smiling? If he hadn’t been there, I would have invited her, then had my big ego deflated. I told a friend about this a few days later, and he set me straight. Pretty quickly, too. Ego rupture.
A year or two later, I picked one up, just to give her a ride. It was freezing cold, and she was at a payphone at a convenience store, and no car in site. I asked if she needed a ride. (Again, I stupidly didn’t know that she was a hooker) and she accepted. She was sullen as I drove her across town, and then she started yapping that her brother was a cop, her father was a judge, and her uncle was in the Mafia! I was sharp enough to understand that this was to let me know not to hurt her, or I’d be in trouble. More stupidly, I didn’t kick her butt out of the car, but just dropped her off when we came to where she needed to go.
I then understood why so many hookers got murdered! It’s not because of some evil perps going around hunting for them, it’s just because they want a little peace and quiet!
hh
I mean absolutely no offense, but I think that’s the mark of basic civility, not unusual politeness. It’s a shame that sex workers don’t get the respect they deserve. (Seriously.)
I had basically the same encounter as a lot of people. On my way out of Vegas casino at 4 AM, I walked by a pretty blond who complimented me on my “huge” arms (an overstatement) and chatted me up for 30 seconds. She politely asked where I was off to and whether I’d like some company. I smiled and said “no thanks,” she smiled back and said, “ok, have a good night.” This was a satisfactory encounter in my book.
To the people who say they got propositioned in New York City: I assume this wasn’t recently, correct? I haven’t seen streetwalkers anywhere in the city in at least a decade. About 15 years ago, though, my dad would sometimes drive me to high school, and our route took us down this street, which was the last time and place I saw city hookers with any regularity. They would (presumably) just be finishing up their shifts at around 7:45 AM. There might be a handful of places in the outer boroughs that still have streetwalkers, but I doubt it, and there almost certainly are none in Manhattan.
Is it bad that I’ve been giggling for upwards of five minutes?
Had that happen to me too. Pissed me off because A I wasn’t dressed in any suggestive manner and was walking purposefully to the convenience store. B I was nowhere NEAR hooker row.
I used to know a hooker. He (yes, he) would stay at our place sometimes and chill before going to work. Nice enough guy but that ended about the time he owed my roommate’s girlfriend money and threatened the three of us with his pimp if we ever bugged him again (I was dragged along because I needed to get out of the house… if I’d any clue that we were going to hooker row to look up a gay prostitute to try and get the $500 he owed the girlfriend I would have smacked them and refused to go anywhere).
Had the same thing happen last time I was in Vegas…
:::Me Playing Video Poker:::
Her: Hey, you here with anyone?
Me (Thinking she wanted the machine next to me): Oh no, go ahead.
Her: :::Stare:::
Me: OH!!! No, no, no. I’m fine.
Oh, no offense taken, of course; I’m sorry if I gave that impression.
We’ll see who can be more polite around here, dammit.
Funny you should say that.
I was having a quiet drink in a Chicago bar, lady sits next to me and asks me if I want some fun :eek:
I told her no, I’m English, she just upped and went
It’s probably a good thing that she didn’t go ahead.
Well, I’ve never been hit upon by a hooker (being female and therefore not in the generally-expected clientele), but 7:30 isn’t out of line from what I’ve seen. Back in 1993, Typo and I had to go pick up a U-Haul truck in Manhattan. West side, near 11th street, if memory serves. Early on a Saturday morning - 8ish or earlier.
We saw several ladies plying their trade (I can’t think of any other reason for someone to be walking around in high heels and underwear). Being inside a moving cab at the time, we were never approached, but I guess there must have been some expectation of business or they wouldn’t have been there.
Got plenty for him in Bangkok.
Lower Sukhumvit Road is packed with them late at night, but it’s not unusual to see some in the morning and afternoon either. A lot of times, out of sheer boredom I guess, if they see a guy walking with a girl, they’ll call out: “Hey, why you no remember me?” This can be doubly embarrasing for the poor shlub if it’s a transvestite hooker.
This seems a good place to mention this, too: Many of the girls sitting outside the bars in places like Soi Cowboy will call out “Hello, Dahling” to the guys passing by. However, if you listen closely, you can sometimes hear them actually saying “Hello, Nah Ling.” Nah ling is Thai for “monkey face.” This is what passes as high humor among Thai bargirls.
I was at a casino in Melbourne one time, playing poker at a five-dollar table. I have pocket tens, and then on the flop two more tens drop, I made 1000 dollars on that hand. Someone must have been watching because the next thing I know there’s a woman in a red jacket standing right beside smiling and asks me if I’d like to take a walk with her. My girlfriend sitting beside me at the table was in hysterics.
//Biggie Shorty// You think that just cuz a girl likes to dress fancy and stand on the corner next to some whores, that she’s hookin? //
It’s probably the six-fingered sword. Puts people off.
Actually, that wasn’t my first prostitute, come to think of it.
Working my way through university in the late 80’s I delivered pizzas in the seediest part of town (St. Kilda) . And because the store owner was dating a prostitute, we had some kind of inside connection to the underbelly, and brothels around the area were our biggest customers. So I came to know pretty much every single brothel from just north of the Melbourne CBD to Windsor to the St. Kilda beach. I can’t count the times I was offered a blow job in exchange for the pizza, rather than the traditional cash-for-pizza exchange that is the hallmark of all successful pizza businesses. Fun times. I never did take up the BJ option, but as a young man, it was just a nice psychological space to be in - to know that it was there if I needed it and not hard to find.
Slight tangent.
I delivered pizzas for quite a while. Not a bad gig, made some decent money and there were side bennies as well. One of the side benefits was the Friday Night Supreme Lady.
It started like this. I took a delivery out to a house in one of our more middle class areas (we delivered to some very poor areas as well as middle class). When I went to the door a woman, probably 30, answered the door. She was wearing a very short skirt. I gave her the pizza and she turned around to get the money.
No wait, that doesn’t quite explain it.
She turned around and bent over to get the money.
She turned around, bent over at the waist to get the money.
Did I mention that she had a very short skirt on?
And no panties?
So I am standing there and she bends over at the waist in her short skirt with no panties on and, well, it was a very nice view.
She straightened up, turned around and gave me the check. I gave her the pie and left in a state of ‘wow, that was cool’.
The next week I was working and saw another delivery for her. I made sure that I got that order. Sure enough, the exact same thing happened. I had explained what happened the first time to the other drivers. After the second time there was a fight on Friday night over who got to deliver her pizza.
This went on for at least 6 months.
Slee