It’s early morning here in God’s favorite reservoir, Niagara Falls, and the hotel lobby is as desolate as Kris Jenner’s soul.
Bu that’s going to change soon. In an instant, the lobby will be filled with travelers, bus passengers, overweight bus drivers, wound-tighter-than-a-virgin-who-has-just-been-told-she’s-the-guest-of-honor-at-a-prison-rodeo-tour-guides, would-be lotharios, hungover bachelorettes, over-caffeinated Japanese tour guides, tornadic rugrats, frustrated housewives, disillusioned dads, sinners that would make Stephen King wet his bed, the occasional saint, corporate drones, bewildered foreigners, every variety of mammal under the sun, and of course, hookers.
Speaking of, a couple just passed my desk. She was a hooker, dressed to the tens with an outfit that wasn’t painted on… it was permanently fused to her milky flesh (though I’m sure it could be removed in a nanosecond). He definitely wasn’t a hooker, not with a gut that could only come from decades of consuming backyard barbecue, Saturday night hockey game beers, and far too many cigarettes. She looked young enough to be his daughter’s babysitter – which was probably the point. He was old enough to be her parole officer. They were the stereotypical modern-day “How the Hell did he ever land her?” couple.
The answer, of course, lies in the power of cold, hard cash. Many of the mismatched couples I encounter are living a dream. The girls are Sasha Grey in The Girlfriend Experience and the guys simply don’t have enough blood in their brains to land a non-professional companion, and so they hire one. it’s a win/win situation, I suppose.
Now, I know what you’re thinking, inquisitive readers, and yes, I’m happy to help. Here now, are a few ways to spot a prostitute/escort who is being paid to deliver the “Girlfriend Experience”.
1) She’s wearing a change-maker on her belt.
2) Her name is Candy. (Simultaneously the worst and most popular hooker name of all.)
3) All her outfits are Velcro.
4) She’s adept at negotiating her way through a crowded hotel lobby with a mattress strapped to her back.
5) Makes knee pads work with any outfit.
6) Smells of deception, regret, satisfaction, and hard-earned wealth. (Which, I imagine is how Kim Kardashian smells.)
7) Calls her “boyfriend” names like “Honey”, “Pookie”, “Sweetums”… anything other than his actual name which she’s incapable of remembering anyway. Not that he cares.
8) She’s willing to overlook any transgression her temporary partner is capable of. (Money is a great relationship tool, kids.)
9) Spider-Man envies her pliability.
10) Her eyes are as empty as my pockets currently are, her stare is as vacant as Rob Ford’s consciousness (I realize he’ sill but I’m not letting him off the hook, so to speak), and she really doesn’t care where she is, what’s she’s doing (as long as she’s being paid to do it) or who she’s doing it with.
Of course, you realize this all about fun, not the devaluation of young ladies who have chosen to sell their affections to the highest bidder, right? After hookers are people too.
Well, my day is about to truly begin. See you in the lobby, kids…
BY THE WAY…
Check out this post from Brother Jon. He’s a good man in every way that counts, and I intend to honor him further soon. Thanks, Jon.