Spot a Sex Worker
Private Life and Play, Scenology — By Adele on 30 May, 2007 11:21 pmI spent most of today woking in the library, which was suitably packed (it’s the finals season, don’t you know). There were a few guys, but mostly it was girls, girls, girls: dishevelled, bug-eyed, hyper from coffee and suffering from lack of sleep, and mostly pretty all the same.
I wondered how many of them supported themselves through the university with some kind of sex work.
Now, if there were any spanking models, I would probably know – the scene isn’t that huge – but there must have been a lap-dancer or two. I mean, the area is full of lap-dancing bars, somebody has to dance there. And how about escorts? Porn models? Phone sex operators? These are all student-friendly jobs.
It’s impossible to tell, though. It’s finals time; nobody’s at their most glamorous right now, particularly in the library.
I did have a good ogle of the particularly sweet-looking girls, though I’m glad they didn’t know what sort of movie I’ve mentally cast them in.
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Long ago, before the lovely Ms. Haze was born, I was a science and
engineering student at a university in Southern California. We were on
the quarter system and finals week at the end of the year was in June. The
weather was warm and women would start to were a lot fewer cloths. This
combined with my raging hormones and lack of sex was very distracting.
I too had lots of thoughts about the women I would see in the library. I used
to joke that I had a political slogan: up with skirts, down with panties (what
can I say, I was a sex and spanking crazed your creature).
I did have the fleeting thought that Islamic dress during finals week would
have helped keep my mind on more, ah, pure topics (like my biochemistry
book).
Heh. I doubt that Islamic dress would help me any. I’d probably still end up wondering what the girls were wearing underneath. ;)
The stevedores frequented a bar not far from my university. To make ends meet, Anne, a member of our economics tutorial group, went down to that bar a couple of nights a week to strip. But on Friday’s, the dockers finished work at noon and were paid off for the week. Flush with cash, they were ripe for business. Unfortunately at that time on Fridays, we had an economics tutorial scheduled. Entrepreneurially minded as ever, our economics professor brought Friday tutorials forward by an hour to give Anne ample time to cycle down to the docks and entertain the dockers.
I was also chairman of the university music society, and had at my discretionary disposal, a wonderful studio with the very best sound equipment, comfortable couches, a small bar and gorgeous views across the historic city – at that time the only really private and secluded space on campus.
Needless to say, the annual subscriptions and extra charges I collected for many Saturday night private bookings – from not necessarily musically minded twosomes and moresomes – enabled me to finance an ever expanding collection of recordings (which included David Rose’s “The Stripper” for Anne’s not always private rehearsals), and visits to music and other events in the region.
R