INTERVIEW WITH A HOOKER

Me: (Clears throat and takes a big gulp). Ah, I don’t suppose you’ve thought about giving classes to sexually dissatisfied spouses?

Talulah: As oddly as that may seem honey; I’ve considered just that. However, now is not the time; I’m thinking more about when I retire. You see, the thing about being a hooker, and where most prostitutes make their biggest mistake, because they’re under the understanding that you have to work your way up—because honey—in the hooking business, it’s just the opposite. A hooker should start and stop while she’s at the top and for me; because I know it will happen eventually, this body just aint going to stay the same and as soon as I start heading towards the bottom; it’ll be time for me to put the girls (lifts her huge breasts with her hands and shakes them) out to pasture—perhaps get married and have a child or two to suck on these (squeezing her nipples), the bartender knocking a drink across the counter because he wasn’t paying attention. The money of course wouldn’t be anything what I’m used to, but I don’t see why a master at their trade shouldn’t pass on their talents.

Me: So what you’re saying Talulah, is that your course would be open to sexually dissatisfied women and what about men?

Talulah: I would also include men, because honey, they have a lot to learn when it comes to us women. You see, our wobbly-bits don’t react in quite the same manner as a man’s wobbly-bit. Men are like fast-food, and women are more gourmet but that shouldn’t prevent a man from occasionally treating the lady by dining at the “Y” and I don’t mean the YMCA honey and winked. Like any respectable dining establishment; one should use the proper eating utensils, which is something I could teach and it’s alright to be a piggy.

Me: (Clears throat, gulps and rolls my eyes.) Ah yes, ahem, Talulah, I’ll just bet you’d make a marvelous teacher.

Talulah: (Crossing her long legs.) You look a little red in the face honey; I’m not embarrassing you, am I?

Me: No. No of course not. The last swallow kind of tickled my throat is all. By the way, what are we drinking? It’s very sweet.

Talulah: Shirley Temples. I don’t drink alcohol when I’m not working, and try to drink very little when I am.

Me: (Scratches head.) Do you have a pimp or a Madame?

Talulah: Honey, a pimp or Madame is so uncouth; I have a manager. I am of course a professional and like many professional people; they have managers. I’ve considered going into business for myself and even though it would most likely be more profitable, I’d rather have someone else manage my business. That way all I have to dis concentrate on my job, and I love my job. How many people do you know, don’t like having sex? Men may think because they’re paying for it that all I do is put on an act, but honey, it aint no act with me. When I take a man to the sheer edge of orgasmic gratification, it’s the same for me most of the time. Some men want tip me but I don’t take tips; the amount of money I earn is unbelievable.

Me: So, what’s your manager like? If you don’t give them their share of the money; are you in any danger?

Talulah: Honey, you’ve been watching too many TV shows and movies, where some black dude is dressed in a shiny velvet suit, wearing a wide fedora, a long feathery plume tucked into the brim and has gobs of gold jewelry hanging around his neck and dangling from his wrists. Those guys are real lowlife’s; someone should just lick their lips and stick them to the side of a building about 40 floors up. My manager is a real gentleman and there has never been a conflict about money. The fee is paid in advance, and his cut is substantially higher than mine but then the services he renders are a lot more costly and he keeps me safe. Like any successful business organization, I get one month paid holidays, medical, dental and a substantial bonus at Christmas, which often includes a ticket to anywhere I’d like to travel in the world.

Me: Wow! So, Talulah, how did you find your manager? I doubt very much he ran an ad in the newspaper: Women Who Enjoy Getting Laid and Would Like to Get Paid Need Only Apply.

Talulah: (Giggling sexily.) No, it was nothing like that. Up until I met my manager, as much as I enjoyed having sex, not even in my remotest dreams did I ever consider becoming a prostitute. I always had good marks at school and even won a scholarship, plus, my family helped me out as much as they were able to, so I’d have money to enroll in first year university. However, it wasn’t until I started bedding a fellow classmate of mine who, like me, was short in the finance department, He jokingly came up with the idea, since he said I was spectacular in bed; we could make some real decent money. We both laughed at first; thought it was really funny but then the more we thought about it, the more we liked the idea. Since many of the students came from very wealthy families, we considered them as prospective clients but then he said no. If we’re going to do this, let’s do it right. Let’s go straight to the source of the money. I’m not sure how he did it, but my very first client was a judge—can you believe that—a judge. The judge must have given my friend some other names because before I knew it, I was bedding quite a few prominent men and some of them were in the public spotlight. Needless to say, honey, since gobs of money started rolling in, we didn’t bother finishing university.

Me: So…how did your friend take it when you began going to bed with a lot of men? Wasn’t he jealous? I mean, not only are you a beautiful looking woman; you’re also very intelligent—the sort of woman many men look for in a wife.

Talulah: After bedding the judge, we stopped having sex. He said if he was going to take care of business in a proper manner, he couldn’t have strong feelings for me because it wouldn’t work out. I was of course disappointed since he was a great lover and a very nice man, but I had to agree with him.

Me: So, you’re telling me that you got together with a nice guy who didn’t have any idea about the prostitution business? That’s amazing. You don’t have to tell me his name, but did your friend ever have any trouble collecting the money?

Talulah: If he did, he never told me, and I’ve never asked.

Me: And…some of your clients; did they ever get nasty with you? I hear some guys can’t get it up unless they get violent.

Talulah: Not sure if I should mention this or not but I imagine it’s alright as long as no names are mentioned. (Takes a sip of her drink and wipes her lips) Near the very beginning of our rapidly growing business, my friend hooked me up with a dude who wanted me to do some very weird stuff. I'd of course heard about dominatrix behaviour before but honey, I'm not, nor ever will be a sadomasochistic partner for anyone. At first, when I saw the costumes and the weird paraphernalia: whips, chains, studded leather outfits and masks, I thought he was just kidding and started laughing and said, "You want me to do what?"

However, from the expression on his face, although smiling, I could tell he didn't find it humorous at all. Since he didn’t know the relationship I had with my manager, he tried to coax me into going along with him by saying that he'd paid a lot of extra cash for my performance. When I told him he was a bald-faced liar and said no, absolutely no way would I be a partner to his sick perversion, he became very angry and locked the door. I tried to escape but there was no place to go; the only window in his chamber of sexual horrors, when I opened the curtains, had steel bars. When he eventually grabbed hold of me, I tried to fight him off, but he was much stronger than me. The bastard basically raped me and nobody, just because they pay a lot of money for sex, should be allowed to do just anything they please.

Me: Can you tell me a little bit more about that bad experience Talulah? Like, how did you finally get away from that monster?

Talulah: Honey, it was one of the worst times of my life. This client, or should I say sadistically perverted bastard, flew into a terrible rage and went ballistically mental. I won't go into any of the horrific ugly details; I'll just say he tied me up, beat me and did all manner of ugly things to my body. Luckily, my face or body didn’t have any scars after I was released from the hospital or my days of being a successful hooker would have been over. (Wipes a tear away from her eye with the paper napkin)

Me: Wow! I had no idea, Talulah; what a terrible experience. It sounds as if you were lucky to survive. And did your friend do anything about that; I mean, obviously he rented you out to a really bad guy?

Talulah: We were very new to the business, and I don’t think we really concerned ourselves too much about what could actually happen when I was alone with a stranger. And like I said, many of the men I bedded were in the public eye—just like this so-called gentleman who was all smiles whenever a camera was pointed in his direction.

Me: But did your friend actually do anything about what happened? Obviously, he couldn’t go to the police because of your circumstances, and I take it he wasn’t a violent man.

Talulah: I have no idea how much time had passed before a passerby out walking his dog found me lying behind a dumpster in an alley and called an ambulance. I still remember looking at Cool Hands (obviously not my friend’s real name) while I was heavily sedated. Although he was somewhat blurry as he sat by the bed holding my hand with his cool hands, something about him looked different; some of the charming sparkle in his vivid blue eyes had vanished. As I mumbled what had happened, at least as much as I could remember, he just sat there calmly stroking my hand, never said a word, except told me not to worry; he’d come and see me every day. While I was recuperating at home, he hired a live-in nurse to look after me until I was fully healed.

Me: (About to interrupt.)

Talulah: But to answer your question; no, Cool Hands was not a violent man by any means. However, when I saw his eyes narrow and grow cold that night in the hospital and he became unusually quiet, he said, “I’ll take care of it.” I knew Cool Hands wasn't about to let that perv get away with what he'd done.

Me: And what did Cool Hands do about it?

Talulah: Well honey, he never really told me if he did anything or not.

Me: Then maybe he didn’t do anything at all.

Talulah: Maybe not; all I know is what happened to me; happened to that son of bitch. Apparently, he was found in a similar alley behind a dumpster about three months later after my beating; hardly a bone was unbroken. (Winks, smiles and then laughs.) It’s hard to believe but that creep most likely really enjoyed getting off on all the pain, being the sadistic, masochistic beast, he was. Someone really did a number on him; that's for sure; but they didn’t kill him. I later heard he had to be fed through a straw and was unable to walk anymore.

Mw: And do you think Coo….

Talulah: Now did I say that honey?

Me: So, after taking such a beating, why did you continue in your trade? I’d have thought you’d have been terrified to be in a room with a strange man ever again.

Talulah: I was afraid alright, but when Cool Hands told me it would never happen again, I believed him.

Me: But how could Cool Hands…hey…I like that name—reminds me of the movie Cool Hand Luke starring Paul Newman—but how could he protect you all the time?

Talulah: Well honey, by this time, Cool Hands and I had made a whole lot of bucks, and he invested his share in a suite that was made for love (sex anyway). It had all the trimmings—he didn’t skimp on a thing baby. Told me he wanted total control of the environment—no more dropping me off at some rich dude’s place. I’ve never had a problem since and business boomed.

Talulah: (Reaches over and shuts off the tape recorder – CLICK.)

Somewhat startled by her action, “If you don’t mind Talulah, I still have a few more questions to ask.”