It is interesting that I had forgotten all about these salacious memories until tonight. I was catching up on one of my favorite feminist websites and it had a discussion about the world's oldest profession. Some second wave and third wave feminists were arguing on whether a so called feminist prostitute blogger was empowered, subversive or objectified. Frankly, I haven't asked myself if prostitution is feminist or not so I don't have an immediate opinion. Let's see...working outside of the traditional convention: check; self deterministic: if there isn't a pimp involved, I guess; empowered: ummm...?
So I surfed over to one of the blogs listed and gave it a bit of a read. The author called herself a feminist but I wasn't sold. She didn't seem to be too concerned with gender equality. In fact, her only concerns seemed to be related to money and the designer clothing that she bought with her money. And so I kept reading (for research purposes).
In one of her entries, the call girl recalled a meet and greet function for "providers" and "hobbyists" that took place in a hotel lounge. Suddenly I remembered something.
When I was 19 years old I worked in a four star hotel. I worked in the back of house organizing banquets and events. Once each month the penthouse of the hotel was reserved for a meeting for the higher ranking members of a charitable organization which shall remain nameless. I would set up the penthouse for a dinner followed by an informal meeting (a bar was set up in the corner). Then I would leave, never to be invited back. This was unusual because usually as the coordinator I was expected to stick around to take care of any requests but for this group, only male staff were admitted into the penthouse once the meeting was underway. I never really thought to much about it because the members were all aged men who were affiliated with a religion and I assumed that the male only service requirement was related to some sort of traditional (hegemonic), medieval belief.
One day though, my friend JR couldn't help himself and let me in on the truth. He grabbed me and dragged me from the back of house to the hotel lobby so that I could witness a troop of women enter the lobby. "Holy crap, are those prostitutes?" I whispered in shock. I had never seen any bonafide prostitutes up close before. They actually looked just like the stereotype: tacky makeup, big hair and cheap little, itty bitty dresses with "hooker" heels.
That's when JR informed me that the hookers showed up every month and went to the penthouse where the high ranking members of the charitable organization were meeting. I couldn't believe that a sexist big mouth like my coworker Gustavo would resist the urge to share this with me because he loved making me uncomfortable at work but JR sheepishly told me that the men who worked the shift were tipped big. Really big. And since they wanted to continue receiving big tips they kept their mouths shut, even Gustavo. JR also revealed that another perk of working the event was that there was always porn on the televisions after the meeting had cleared out so the guys would stay up there to drink from the bar and catch up on the maneuverings of Misty Flatback or whoever.
After that, when I saw the high ranking members of the charitable organization handing out candy in the Riverwalk Parade I would cringe. Kids, you don't know where that hand has been.
I hope that SB never wants to join the upper ranks of a male only, charitable organization.
So I surfed over to one of the blogs listed and gave it a bit of a read. The author called herself a feminist but I wasn't sold. She didn't seem to be too concerned with gender equality. In fact, her only concerns seemed to be related to money and the designer clothing that she bought with her money. And so I kept reading (for research purposes).
In one of her entries, the call girl recalled a meet and greet function for "providers" and "hobbyists" that took place in a hotel lounge. Suddenly I remembered something.
When I was 19 years old I worked in a four star hotel. I worked in the back of house organizing banquets and events. Once each month the penthouse of the hotel was reserved for a meeting for the higher ranking members of a charitable organization which shall remain nameless. I would set up the penthouse for a dinner followed by an informal meeting (a bar was set up in the corner). Then I would leave, never to be invited back. This was unusual because usually as the coordinator I was expected to stick around to take care of any requests but for this group, only male staff were admitted into the penthouse once the meeting was underway. I never really thought to much about it because the members were all aged men who were affiliated with a religion and I assumed that the male only service requirement was related to some sort of traditional (hegemonic), medieval belief.
One day though, my friend JR couldn't help himself and let me in on the truth. He grabbed me and dragged me from the back of house to the hotel lobby so that I could witness a troop of women enter the lobby. "Holy crap, are those prostitutes?" I whispered in shock. I had never seen any bonafide prostitutes up close before. They actually looked just like the stereotype: tacky makeup, big hair and cheap little, itty bitty dresses with "hooker" heels.
That's when JR informed me that the hookers showed up every month and went to the penthouse where the high ranking members of the charitable organization were meeting. I couldn't believe that a sexist big mouth like my coworker Gustavo would resist the urge to share this with me because he loved making me uncomfortable at work but JR sheepishly told me that the men who worked the shift were tipped big. Really big. And since they wanted to continue receiving big tips they kept their mouths shut, even Gustavo. JR also revealed that another perk of working the event was that there was always porn on the televisions after the meeting had cleared out so the guys would stay up there to drink from the bar and catch up on the maneuverings of Misty Flatback or whoever.
After that, when I saw the high ranking members of the charitable organization handing out candy in the Riverwalk Parade I would cringe. Kids, you don't know where that hand has been.
I hope that SB never wants to join the upper ranks of a male only, charitable organization.
Comments