I've never had any problem discussing prostitution. Honestly, I've always felt it's a problem within every single society, that will never disappear. That's why I believe, that instead of wasting time, energy and money in trying to eliminate it (let's face it: that's an impossible task; for as long as penis and vaginas exist, prostitution will exist), we should focus on regulating it. Because what is true is that the lack of norms and laws involving prostitution stimulate other sorts of problems, like the spreading of disease, abuses, etc. So, instead of channeling our resources to an impossible task, why not invest them into something that will eventually bring benefits to society as a whole?
These views represent my very particular point of view of course, and I'm certainly aware that there exist plenty of other points of view which stand opposite to mine, but after a recent experience, I am more than convinced that something must be done to regulate prostitution. Last Thursday, I was on my way to my aunt's house. It was around one pm, and I was walking along, minding my own business, when I finally noticed, after several blocks, that someone was following me. Mistake number one, for I should have been paying more attention to what was happening around me. If I had, I would have realized the same man that stared at me at one corner, had been following me ever since. As soon as I realized this, he took my arm and smiled, as if that would reassure me. Dude, a strange man follows me and then grabs me by the elbow: do you really think you can reassure me by smiling?
Anyway, he informs me I have the most beautiful face he has seen, and before I can say anything, offers me a job as a hostess at this restaurant called Angus. Now, mind you, I'm rather naïve and before that day, I didn't know about that particular restaurant's reputation. That's why at first it didn't set off any alarm bells in my head. But then he started asking me all sorts of questions, regarding my moral status, whether I considered myself liberal or not, etc. That's when I thought there was something shady going on with the dude, and I told him so. I asked what was I expected to do, as 'hostess,' that required him to know all those things about me. Then he tried, in the most euphemic way possible, to explain how I would be using my face and my body to make the restaurant more money. My job would consist, if I understood correctly, in getting the clients to order the most expensive dishes on the menu, using whatever means necessary. Of course, the dude that was ordering would be apparently interested in me, and I was given the choice of accepting his attention (materialized in a huge tip) and sleeping with him, gaining extra cash by doing so.
What probably stunned me the most out of the whole ordeal, was the fact that he told me all of this in such a natural way you'd think he was talking about the weather. Like he'd done it penty of times before, and the fact that he was basically telling me to sell my body had never impressed anyone before. He told me I'd be making anywhere between 25 and 40 grand a month, and after that he made a pause, as if sure the numbers would impress me. He said all that was important in life was money, sex and power. He told me the men that went to dine at the restaurant were powerful and rich, and that they would fall for me and give me anything I pleased. Money, cars, jewelry, anything.
Once he saw I wasn't really interested in the whole thing, he insisted on seeing me, saying we could start out as 'friends.' Please, like I want to have anything to do with a 40-something dude that's after my ass. I could finally wriggle out of his grasp and leave, terrified and pale, but safe. It was weird, and the whole thing really freaked me out, but once I was calm and was able to think things through, I realized I had just come face-to-face with an elite service that, euphemisms aside, was nothing more than prostitution. Now, I can safely say prostitution is indeed closer to us than we think, and it has become something much more sophisticated than we can imagine. I started thinking of all the girls before me, and of all the girls that will come after me, that are either tempted by the money or simply enjoy frolicking around with men, that agree to work there. Isn't it sad? How can someone think so little of herself so as to borrow her body to anyone who is willing to pay for it? Because let's be honest, the girls that work there aren't starving. If you don't have anything to eat and have to prostitute yourself to make some cash, you do it on the streets. Or at a hoar-house, maybe. But at a fancy restaurant? I don't think so. So there's no pitying the ladies that agree to work there, no saying 'oh poor things they didn't have a choice.' Because they do have a choice.
So, all in all, I can now look back and say: phew! I dodged a bullet there. It was a scary situation, but I'm glad my parents gave me enough strength in character and moral principles to say thank you, but no thank you. Because it is that easy. Someone offers you a lot of money, and before you realize it you are tangled in a web of deceit, humilitation and loss of self-respect that can lead to sickness, pregnancy and depression. I'm not rich by any means, but I'd rather work my ass off to pay school than sell my body to a filthy old man that's going to use me as a kleenex. I mean seriously, who can be as stupid as to believe the clients are going to have sex with you, fall for you, and want to marry you? More likely than not, they are going to make you do all sorts of disgusting things, then throw you away like you don't matter.
Ladies, a word of advice then. Keep your eyes and ears wide open. You never know when you will come close to a situation similar to the one I experienced, and sometimes you may not even realize what you are doing before you wind up tangled in all sorts of troubles. And the last thing we all need right now, are more issues. Right?
