The majority of the people in my life for most of my adult life have been sex workers. This is a badass class of human beings that can stand through hurricanes in 6 inch heels with glitter on. These beautiful people are warriors, survivors, mothers, world travellers, healers, therapists, nurturers. They are the girl next door, the forgotten, the generous, the university student, the lawyer, the artist. They are straight, gay, bi, trans, lesbian, queer. They are from happy families, they are from broken families, they are from no families but the ones they have created. You may give them a fortune, and never meet one in person. They will give you a fantasy for a shiny green price. On the phone, in a bed, from a cage, in your head. They come in many forms, many shapes, and many sizes. They are the most amazing men, and women I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. They are in the mirror when I wake up in the morning. They have an intelligence, and grace towards the reality of humanity that is honoring to behold. They can size you up in seconds, because they've seen your brand a hundred times before. I don't like to be in contexts of them, and they. Right now though I'm feeling pretty fucking separate. So I wrote something to be able to sift through what I'm feeling.
"The moon is out. She catches herself in the mirror as she walks out of her 2nd story walk up. Her shiny red lip gloss must have smeared when she pulled her shirt on. She lifts a freshly manicured fingernail up to her doll face lips, and scrapes her gloss back into place. Her 5 inch Manolo heels pound against wood, as she continues to skip down the stairs. She's right on time. Her boyfriend always pulls up at exactly 8p, and expects her to be outside waiting for him.
As he pulls up, she hopes Desire will be out with her tonight. They always rack up when they're together. She is suddenly anxious hoping her boyfriend doesn't go through her purse, and see the flats that she brought with tonight. They will have to be out for 12 hours straight, and she couldn't bare the thought of all that time in those fucking heels. He had strict standards he held them to. He always said no man wants to pay for a tired heaux in flats. The pain in our feet was supposed to keep us alert, and hungry to make our quota. She opens the backseat car door right behind the driver's side seat. She feels him eyeing her through the rear view mirror. Hoping desperately she looks like a piece of expensive heaven. He tells her what area they will work tonight, and tells them it's hot out tonight. He advises not to be thirsty, and get their asses locked up. If he has to pick them up from jail, they'll have to work double the time to make up for the lost paper.
They usually didn't work the streets like this. They each had an apartment to work out of. They would be posted to an online site, and book clients through there. The government heat shut it down though, so now the only way to make quota was to hit the streets. She thought to herself she didn't have it as bad as other girls. Her boyfriend forbid them to work the busted tracks. They only worked high end bars, and clubs. They tried as best they could to gather any potential date's personal info to check him out. They would text his info to their boyfriend, and he would search for him online. Fuck she thought this is going to be a long night of many, and the police are on a witch hunt. The law know with their main advertising avenue shut down, the heaux would be out in full force.
As soon as she walked in she spotted rivals in their territory. This is going to be tight she thought, we better work fast. Bitch against bitch. She thought, I'm not coming up short, and getting my ass beat. She had been there too many times before, and did not want to be back there. She had thought about running so many times, but had no where to run. He threatened her family. The police would just do what they do best. Criminalize her, interrogate her, and send her to a re traumatizing shrink. Before putting her back on the street, ripe for him to grab her all over again. Now she definitely wouldn't reach out to the police for help. Not with this witch hunting bull shit happening. She liked to call them dog catchers. The vice squad. Bastards. They don't give a fuck she thought. They arrest us, collect bail, and release us back to our pimps. It's an endless cycle.
Her mind was racing with an urgently burning anger. She felt like a non citizen, a forgotten class that people love to pity. They love to gather around their t.v. with tears in their eyes, as they watch documentaries about drug addicts fucking 'johns' in pickup trucks for 20s. Her partner in crime for the night grabbed her hand, and led the way to a group at the end of the bar. She felt suspended in time. Floating into non reality. She thought, they want to see me fall. They want to watch me crumble. They have become so sickened, and ashamed at their own perceived perversions. They want to destroy the evidence. They want to sweep us under the rug, and throw us into for profit prisons. All the while the pimps, and the traffickers collect our money. Every one of us that disappears is replaced just as fast. An assembly line of pleasure providers. Old as time. Ever standing. Every new heaux like a headstone for the last. This endless stream of thoughts racing through her mind.
Tears well up in her eyes. She gathers herself, and holds her head up high. She remembers her boyfriend saying that every heaux ends up with a pimp. No bitch can make it indie. She feels a surge of strength, and power. She hasn't felt this before. They all want to hold me down, and use me. They want to control me, and own me. No more. I am old as time. I am a priestess reborn, I am the midwife of creation. We are the holders of power suppressed. She walks out of the dimly lit bar. Full of designer coats, and smoky air. It is snowing. She stops for a moment feeling each snow flake melt into her perfectly contoured cheeks. Her partner comes out behind her. "Dream" she calls out asking what happened. She said I'm done. I'm standing up, will you stand with me?"
Marisha
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