Not too long ago in the distant past; if you wanted to see a hooker, all you had to do was step outside your door and head to the nearest red light district. Back in the 90’s, Time Square at night was like a being on a hooker safari. Hoes were everywhere, as far as the eye could see; all different kinds too. There were short ones, tall ones, small ones, fat ones. There were young ones, old ones, dumb ones, Black ones. Even little midget ones, but for some reason they always ran you a little extra.
Now when you walk among all the Disney Stores, Wax Museums, and TGIF’s of Time Square: a guy can’t help but wonder “Hey; where did all the hoes go?” Did they all just die out? If so, where is their Discovery Channel special? Where is their Sally Struther’s infomercial, telling us that for a mere $2 dollars a day, we can keep an old whore on the streets of New York City?
Like everything else in this world, all the whores have gone digital. I guess they said, if it was good enough for Barack’s election campaign, it’s good enough for them. I can’t even turn on my computer now, without some girl named Fancygirl30 or Ladylove119 propositioning me via email, IM, and now they’re even on Skype. Talk about frustrating. What’s the world coming to when a guy can’t even watch internet porn in peace?
Truthfully, I don’t think I’m on board with this whole new breed of “stay at home whores”. Call me old fashioned, but I just don’t think that prostitution is really a telecommuting type of business. Now days, any girl with a Facebook account and a Samsung Instinct thinks she’s qualified to be a hooker. In the words of my granddad, “Hoes just ain’t what they used to be.”
God knows growing up I hated those speeches from my mother, telling me how easy we had it compared to her generation, and all that they had to do. But those speeches made me a better person. I can’t help but wonder: where are their speeches? Somewhere in this country, there has to be an old hooker saying to her daughter:
You young hoes are lazy! Back when I was hookin, I had to walk 22 miles in the snow just to find one good trick. And I was grateful for that $11 dollars… cause you know back then they could give you an IOU.
Or:
What the hell is PayPal? In my day, we had a pimp! What you gonna do if you need protection? Send an email? All this new self-hoeing ain’t right I tell you. It ain’t nothing but the devil!
I believe in the whole ecosystem theory that if one thing disappears, we throw off the entire balance of the planet. Just like rain forests, the ozone layer, and silver back gorillas; street hookers are a vital part of this planet. And we need to do all that we can to ensure their survival.
Please send in $22 to get your very own “Save the Street Hoes” tee shirt.
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Looking through the trades the other day, I ran across an ad calling out for tap dancers for this new hit Broadway play. I thought to myself, “Hey, this might actually be pretty doable.” I’ve always wanted to star on Broadway. Lord knows I suck at selling copiers. Who knows, maybe this could finally be my big break? Growing up in Michigan, I was actually known to be quite the little prodigy tap dancer. My mom enrolled me in Mrs. Debbie’s Dancing Divas, after Mr. Foster our little league football coach, started a petition to get me removed me from the team. He got all bent out of shape when after an interception; I accidentally ran the ball in the opposite direction down the field, scoring for the other team. It actually happened in a couple games, 5 to be exact. Mr. Foster swore I was doing it on purpose. Truthfully, I’ve just always been really bad with directions. To everyone’s surprise, I took to tap dancing just like a catfish to water. Yep, “Lil’ Step N Fetch It” was what they all used to call me. Coming from an all white school, it wasn’t until much later in life of course, that I learned a bunch of white kids holding out dollars yelling, “Dance Lil’ Step N Fetch It, dance!” wasn’t exactly a good thing. But boy-oh-boy did I ever put on a show in that lunchroom. I still remember the look on my mom’s face the day I showed her the $126 dollars I had earned for my new Atari 2600. She asked, “Boy, where on earth did you get all that money?”; and I replied with the biggest smile, “I’m a professional Mama; I get paid for dancing at school.” That very next morning Ms. Suzette marched up to Ottawa Elementary and let those teachers have it. I was devastated too. Hell, the teachers were actually the ones that paid the most money. I made $76 dollars off Principal Atkins alone.
It had been over 15 years since I’d picked up a pair of tap shoes, so it goes without saying I was a little rusty. I figured though, “Really, how difficult could it be? It’s tap dancing, not rocket science.” It’s like riding a bike: some things you just never forget. The big audition wasn’t for another few hours, so I still had some time to brush up on my chops. I found my tap shoes and began practicing my old shuffle step, shuffle bal change combinations. I even remembered my old Tea for Two soft shoe number that used to wow them all in the 3rd grade. “Not too shabby”, I thought. Granted I’m no Savion Glover, however. I was still pretty confident I’d be better than most of those guys who would be auditioning, hands down. After all, I took 2nd place in the church talent show 3 years straight. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t delusional. I realized that I probably wasn’t going to book the lead in the entire production. With that said, my plan was merely to snag a spot as a chorus dancer, and work my way up to lead; even if it took a few weeks.
I arrived in midtown just in time, and walked into the theater with dance bag in tow. Once inside, I discovered about 2000 other dancers waiting in line. It was slightly overwhelming at first. Sure, they were all a little taller, leaner, and wore way fancier dance gear than my old cargo shorts, sweat socks, and dad’s hand-me-down “Can’t Stop, Hammer Time” hoodie. But, I wasn’t intimidated in the least. I had actually already begun to imagine the look on all their faces as they got their first glimpse of me in action. Yep, New York was getting ready for their very first taste of “Lil’ Step N Fetch It” Sanders. And all these punks in their fancy little designer clothes had no idea what they were in store for.
When they called us to the stage, each dancer was given a number. I was number 7 in my group. In all honesty, I was in no way prepared for what was to follow. Those damn guys leaped on to that stage one by one; and began doing things I didn’t even think were humanly possible to do with your body. I saw guys doing head spins, triple back somersaults, and pirouette turns that literally went on for days. Hell, Mrs. Debbie herself could only do about 2 ½; but not without falling over into her record player. In my head I’m thinking, “WTF? Did I accidentally walk on to the set of the So You Think You Can Dance finale?” When in heaven did people begin incorporating gymnastics with tap dancing? This ain’t the Olympics. The guy in front of me actually ran up the stage wall with his feet, and then sprung into a double back flip, never missing a single tap. At that point, just to be certain; I leaned over to one of the producers and asked,“Excuse me sir, I’m sorry… but is that even allowed?” Surely, “feet on the damn wall” calls for some kind of suspension. So far, this was definitely not going as I had planned. I quickly cased the joint to see if there was any way to escape before my turn, but as luck would have it, they called my name next. “Dam it”, I thought. Just then, seated in the middle of the auditorium, I caught a glimpse of the director, an old silver haired man in his late 70’s. Perhaps, maybe there still is a chance. This old geezer has to appreciate good old fashioned tap dancing. Fancy sports cars are a lot of fun, but at the end of the day, a Bentley is still a Bentley right? And compared to these young guys, I was definitely that Bentley.
Too late to turn around, I mustered up all my courage, and held my high as I handed over my music to the DJ, “Here you go sir. Track #3 please…Tea for Two ”. As I stepped onto the stage, my music began. At first step, I noticed the stage was a little more slippery than I imagined it to be, but not a problem. I would find a way to use it in the work. I began to tap. ” Here goes nothing.” Although my moves were probably quite a bit slower than I think everyone in the room was used to; the actual quality of my taps didn’t sound half bad. Having had some experience in the world of auditioning, I knew how important it was to start off strong. With that said, I figured it was time to pull out my big money move. Rounding off, I remember thinking in that moment that I probably shouldn’t have worn these damn Hanes boxers today. With all of the jerky movement; tap dancing calls for quite a bit of support down in the groin area. Although all the flip-flopping of my genitalia was somewhat distracting; I was not about to let this hinder my performance; so away I tapped.
Just as I was getting to the big money move, I noticed the energy slowly begin to shift in the room. It was as if everyone had suddenly just perked up from nowhere. Could this be? Maybe tapping is like riding a bike? Maybe after all these years I do still have it? Before I knew it, I had every single persons’ attention in the entire theater, including the janitors. I could not believe the response I was getting. It was like 3rd grade lunchroom all over again. It actually brought a little tear to my eye. “They really like me!” It was now definitely time to turn it up a notch. Milking it, I began doing every tap move I had ever even seen before. I was on a roll. At this point, all of the producers and stagehands began pointing in my direction and calling out to me. I thought, “Brett, this is your moment… feet don’t fail me now!” The director himself has now even jumped to his feet, and is yelling my name. I thought, “Man, if he likes that move, then he’s really gonna like this.” It was finally time to; as they say in the biz “Bring it on home”. I instantly began hopping up and down leaping from one foot to the next, at the same time while flapping my arms like a bird. This was it folks; the big money move. At that very moment, I noticed there was an ever so slight breeze coming from below. “Hmnhh…that’s strange”, I thought. Still dancing, I glanced down to investigate the strange wind, and I could not believe my damn eyes. In all the excitement of the morning, I somehow forgot to zip up my shorts. Since I also had on those damn loose boxers beneath them; to my surprise, my entire penis had fallen completely out of my pants; and was actually dangling free throughout the entire number. Boy was I so not expecting to look down and see that. Something tells me that they weren’t either.
It goes without saying, I was quickly ushered out of the theater by a couple of big security guards and asked never to step foot into that auditorium again. And you know the way I see it; it was actually their loss.
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Hi my name is Brett, and I live in New York City. With the exception of that time I spent in a Mexican prison for male prostitution, I’m pretty much just an average guy. The Mexican prison thing was really just a big miss understanding. While visiting Tijuana, out of sheer curiosity, I decided to ask these guys what the local rate was, say if a fella should want to “receive”, fellatio from a “working girl”. Since my Spanish is horrible, they thought I was male hooker trying to negotiate a group rate, and the whole thing just got blown way out of proportion.
I’m originally from a small town called Grand Rapids Michigan, home of the Keebler Elf and the 80s sensation The Debarges. After graduating with honors from a very “prestigious” online university, where I majored in neuro surgery and minored in lesbian studies, I eventually set out to the big city in order to make a big name for myself. Unable to find a job in my chosen fields, I somehow found myself working for a small midtown company, selling copiers. Trust me, it’s even more glamorous then it sounds.
For some strange reason, all my life the craziest things always seem to happen either to or around me. So finally, with not much else to do with my time, I decided to write about it. I’m definitely not on track to win a Nobel Peace Prize with this blog. However, if you ever just want a quick chuckle in the middle of your day, please stop on by.
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