Friday, March 14

whatever, i'll weigh in on this seven diamond hooker nonsense

there are a lot of things i don't really get about this whole eliot spitzer business (starting with "eliot spitzer was our governor? why?! what did you idiots do while i was out of town for two years? jesus!"), but the biggest one is this: he paid how much to not only sleep with but specially transport that girl? don't get me wrong, this isn't a slam against aimee ashley olsen dresden doll you me and dupree jackowicz or whatever the hell her name is. she's, in the terminology i've been taught by richard, "medium cute" and certainly extremely attractive for a prostitute. she seems nice, if a little dumb. the whole being a hooker thing...well, everyone makes mistakes, especially somewhat vapid, medium cute young ladies who move to manhattan with vague dreams of becoming famous at...something. i've got nothing at all against her.

it's more like this. eliot spitzer. you, sir, live in new york. you travel to washington dc. this is the girl that you paid thousands and thousands of dollars to sleep with and destroyed your career over:

i mean, honestly, is it just me or do 40% of the women in the tri-state area look exactly like this? and if he wanted to fuck a girl like that in dc, just go to any bar on 18th st besides pharmacy (ok, in full disclosure, dc guidettes are about 1/8 as attractive as their counterparts anywhere else in the world but that's dc for you). i just don't get why you'd pay this girl that much money to fuck you when you could--legally!--get any of these other ladies to fuck you for the price of a dinner and a couple jagerbombs.

unless, of course, your fetish is just to pay for sex. i'm not buying the whole "eliot wanted anal" story because honestly is that really that unusual a request in this day and age? do you know anyone who hasn't done anal?

i have, over the course of my life, given a bit of thought to what kind of prostitute i would buy if i were a man who was buying a prostitute, and since i do not have a compelling fetish simply for putting money on the table and secretly knowing that the lady you are with really doesn't want to have sex with you, i figure that i'd have to go for something totally out there, like a she-male. because why pay for an experience that is so easy for your average person to get for free? that's why you go for the she-males or the dominatrixes; at the very least, hire some really street prostitute--i mean that is a story.

which brings me to the actual point of this post: my experience with politicians and hookers. when i was 20, or maybe had just turned 21, i was invited--mainly as arm candy, i am fully well aware--to the nys real estate board party. this is a pretty glamorous event each year, held at fancy hotels with a fancy dinner and fancy wines followed by an enormous penthouse party complete with cigars and fine whiskeys. me and the other arm decoration were pretty unusual in that we were A) women B) under the age of 30, but it wasn't something that we noticed too terribly (after all, we were a little drunk).

until, of course, we went and asked where the bathroom was and the doorman ushered us into a bathroomless room full of call girls, assuming that we were also call girls (for the record, i was wearing a diane von furstenberg wrap dress and looked very respectable). there was a lot of booze and coke in this room and the hookers were all very friendly and nice, wisecracking and having a good time. my companion--a very nice girl, she lent me her ID on several occasions when i was underage, but definitely more than a little straight-laced--was basically infuriated, but honestly i thought it was hilarious. and i have to be honest that it's vaguely tempting to take advantage of this situation, when it's forced upon you.

the girls, for the most part, did not look like ainsley jermaine dupri, despite also being five diamond whores. there were a couple of collegiate call girls there, but mostly they were ghetto-fab black and latin ladies. and every last one of them was wearing a dress that could only be describe as pageant-ready. glittering, sparkling, full-length gowns. it was completely insane! they were funny and nice and thought it was hilarious that the two of us weren't actually whores but were mistaken for whores--"two white girls in little black dresses and tiffany jewelry walk into a party and they immediately assume you're hos? men!"

we weren't there for very long, maybe twenty minutes. about the third time a (possible?) customer entered, we headed to the door.

and it was there where i ran into the mayor of 9/11, rudy giuliani.


Hereward said...

I'm painfully hungover and the double espresso doesn't seem to have worked but I could have sworn that I read somewhere this morning that guys don't pay hookers for sex, they pay them to leave afterwards.

ally said...

you know, i gotta say, most ladies i know don't need to be paid to leave either. we dislike dudes just as much as they dislike us!

Hereward said...

I have never understood why people would do this. If I think someone is shaggable, I'd want them to be comfortable enough to pass out after I've rogered them silly and not worry I'll be pissed.

Did you see the photos in The Post?!

ally said...

ugh, yes. she is 5 years younger than me but looks 2 years older than me in those photos. either the post has the worst photographer in the world or whoring does a body no good. another alternative: myspace photos are misleading.