KoolBak wrote:Dukasaur wrote:A whore is a whore, no doubt. But I'd rather hang out with a whore than a thief, any day.
Can you document the whores you hang out with, just for curiosity's sake?
I assume you don't want to hear about the whores who's services I've required; only those I've hung out with in the platonic sense. There have been three, but I'll just give you one brief story to avoid boring anyone.
In '79 when I hitchhiked to California, I stayed for a while at this house in Tustin. Kind of a cross between a commune and a boarding house. Different people negotiated different terms for staying there. It had been a pretty rough trip thus far, and I needed to sit and lick my wounds for a while, so I stayed for three weeks.
I was 16 and they consigned me to the children's quarters. Which was a pisser. You know how it is when you're 16. You think of yourself as an adult; everyone else thinks of you as a child, and it's always a bone of contention.
Anyway, there were two other boys in the children's quarters. Actual children, like 8 and 11 or something. Turned out their mother was a hooker. An actual fully-accredited hooker (had been to jail for turning tricks.) Anyway, she asked me to watch over them when she was out of the house. Sometimes she paid me in cash, other times in weed or champagne. Never in sex.
We got to the point where she'd invite me back to her room after we put her kids to bed. We'd smoke a bit of weed and listen to Pink Floyd. She was big on Pink Floyd. She still wouldn't f*ck me, though. I guess she thought I was an innocent. I for sure wasn't, but everyone has their own standards. Which was weird when you think about it. She didn't think I was too young to supply weed and booze to, but she thought I was too young to f*ck. But yeah, we had some pleasant evenings getting buzzed and grooving out to Pink Floyd.
