WHORING

Whoring  - a nasty title for a blog.  But Hey - I got your attention didn’t I?

Many have voiced opinions.   But has anyone really sat down, and asked their inner voices, “how much” it would take.   We all have our prices and reasons.  None of which should be judged.  But oh I am guilty of that very moral criticism.  It is time to be truthful and unbiased.   And take that smug off my face, for when it’s crunch-time, I know I could be bought.  The price would be astronomical, but hey I come with other incomparable attributes. 

Indecent Proposal

Pretty Woman 

“To the moralist, prostitution does not consist so much in the fact that the 

woman sells her body, but rather that she sells it out of wedlock.” ― Emma Goodman was quoted.   Funny, in its comparison the reality in wedlock, the woman is paid in more ways than one.  As Bertrand Russell said, “Marriage is for woman the commonest mode of livelihood, and the total amount of undesired sex endured by women is probably greater in marriage than in prostitution.” What is marriage if not but prostitution to one man instead of many?

Famous naughty American actor Charlie Sheen, was being sentenced for using a prostitute, the judge asked him why a man like him would have to pay for sex. And Sheen reportedly replied: “I don’t pay them for sex. I pay for them to leave afterwards.”

Politics and prostitution have to be the only jobs where inexperience is considered a virtue. In what other profession would you brag about not knowing stuff?

I find it necessary to redress myself on thoughts that lingered with me the other day.

I was out shopping for my groceries, in this wonderful land where expats are termed sexpats. In line behind me was an Englishman in his late 30’s with his arms outstretched reaching for a Museli bread bun. Crisp in a recognizable posh British accent, he says  “Darling, look at those museli bun, haven’t had those in years, lets have them”, only to be retorted back by the local girl, in broken Tinglish, “Honey, no I doan’t likey – white bread gooder, I make you Thai dish with pork on top – come baby – over here!”

Clearly their relationship was one of the Kingdom’s oft known for its sex tourist destination.  Where one could rent a wife for a week or two, and in some cases, they actually fall in love.  My reaction with the Muesli bun couple was one of degradation and disgust.  By the time I reached the pay station an hour later, they were in line in front of me so I was able to watch their interplay.  

Plainly obvious was their happiness.  He was luxuriating in being lovingly spoilt, his manhood bursting out.  She was delighting in the well-stocked supermarket cart, relishing in a week’s free food at long last. Maybe they were married, would that have made the difference, I ask myself?  With my experienced eye, and a keen observer of life, theirs was of a rental persuasion.   And so what?   When a woman wants to sell her body, in return for a weeks shopping; a brand name handbag, or just plain staying alive, they should have the full right without encountering punishment or discrimination.  The relationship between the sex buyer and the sex seller must be considered a purely private transaction.

By the time I managed to come to terms with this highly intellectual debate in my head,  it was my turn to pay the grocery bill. The couple turned around and smiled at me.  “Have a great muesli bun and tea,” I managed to say.   And I truly hoped they did.