Prostitution

I never considered myself to be a John. Or a trick. I just could not see myself pulling up to a street corner, saying some corny line, and then handing a chick some cash as she gets into my car. The guys on TV and the movies just seemed so sleazy. But it was not really the sleazeball factor that pushed me away, it was the combination of facts that sex should be free and that I was never that horny a person that I could not wait. So you could say I was too cheap and unmotivated. My sister will be the first to attest to my belief that a lot of dating is a molded form of prostitution. Typically, a man takes a woman out, feeds her, pays for her, gives her attention, and then he solicits sex and often receives it even though she probably does not particularly want to. A trade of services is made. Goods in terms of affection, attention, and a free meal are traded for attention and sex. Most of you are probably holding back your disgust at this bastardization of courtship, but dating and all relationships is really an exchange that benefits both parties. Prostitution is just that as well, just a socially taboo one.

Regardless of what you think of my theories, the point is that I never considered prostitution. Now that I have been traveling overseas, all my assumptions have changed and I don’t know what to think anymore. If I was traveling to economically equivalent places like most of Europe, my impression would remain the same. In Germany, you still have to go and get yourself a hooker and pass twenty perfectly free (honest) women along the way. But lately I have been traveling places where the socioeconomic structure is all screwed up. The norm now seems to be, where the people with money are, so will be the prostitutes. Most of the time, sneakily disguised as normal women. So here comes Anthony in a hypothetical situation. I walk into a club with some friend. This is not some ordinary club, not one mainly for locals, but an expat friendly place that is safe and not too different from what westerners are used to. Let’s face it, in a lot of places that are not westernized, either you are not welcome in most places or you are not comfortable going in most places. So you end up going to someplace that is a mixture between your background and the culture of the country you are in, a place specially designed for your kind. So here I am in the club, and I notice that there are some lovely ladies from all over the world scattered throughout the bar. Eventually I work up the nerve to go and talk to one. Great, she is receptive. She smiles, laughs at my jokes, tells me about where she is from, and seems to be generally having a good time. About the time that I think that I really have found a nice find, she whispers in my ear her price. Not wanting to believe, or selectively not hearing, I say ‘come again’. She says ‘if you want to come again, that’s double the price’. Haha, that’s my attempt at a dirty joke. But eventually you realize she is a prostitute. (This has yet to happen to me luckily, but it is inevitable). You then go through two reactions, first you feel betrayed because you believed you were talking to an honest women, and second you feel dirty because you are actually thinking to yourself ‘that’s actually pretty cheap’. I may say no the first time. But what happens when the situation happens the next time, and the next time and the next time. Soon your disgust with the situation wears then, and your shock at the situation becomes non-existent, and you end up with a hooker back at your place.

That is how I imagine it happens. The proof is in the pudding. Almost most of the expats and contractors that I have met overseas (and especially the military guys) have admittedly frequented prostitutes. I would venture to say that it is the norm in my line of work. The people, mostly men, are usually married, and are away from their families for long periods of time. They mostly seem to go this route because they are bored or need affection. As much as I look down upon them, I understand. So here I am, having recognized the chain of events that could turn me into them, have to make a conscious decision. I must decide relatively early in my career whether I will succumb or not to these offers. But there are some moral pitfalls in my path.

One is the rich man complex. As an American, that often makes me the rich man by default. So lets say I boycott prostitution, but instead, sleep with a girl that I know is after me just because I have money and can treat her better than any comrade of hers. Or that maybe I will fall in love with her and take her home to the states. Is that as bad as prostitution? I may not be paying her outright, but without the money, there would be no way she is interested in me. How can I tell if it’s real or not?

Do I just abstain from relationships all together? I really like relationships and is it reasonable to ask for me not to pursue one because I know the scales are not balanced? I never felt like the scales were balanced in the states, simply because there are so few good black men and so many good black women.

Do I think prostitution is inherently wrong? No, I generally think everyone has the right to do what they want with their body. Do I think highly of prostitutes? No, but how highly would you have to think of somebody you are just having sex with. Actually for me, that’s pretty high. And that’s where the issue is solved. See fear of sex entry, my current state of affairs is that I can’t have sex with someone unless I really like them and feel comfortable with them. Maybe the fact that I am such the anti-manwhore will prevent me from even being able to entertain the idea of hiring a prostitute. In conclusion, me and prostitutes will never probably mix, because my standards for sexual partners is too high. Similarly, I don’t really feel comfortable taking advantage of someone. Like in Qatar, there was a very beautiful, adorable, smart, and engaging young Filipino coworker that I really got a long with. We had a definite attraction to each other, and we confessed that to each other, but I told her I would not pursue anything with her. The reason: she would have expected so much more from the relationship than I did. I primarily would have been interested in the sex and companionship. She would have had dreams of a brighter future. Because when I left work and went to the Four Seasons, she took the worker’s bus home to the labor community in one of the small towns not far from the office. She lived in a completely different world. It was like Romeo and Juliet, or a West Side Story. It was tough to realize that there was another barrier on love, you have to start on even footing.

Note: All you people that think love is enough. If you’ve got love, the rest of it will work out. I hope you are right, but unfortunately the evidence is against you.