My company recently sent me out of state to attend a three-day work conference. I won’t elaborate as to which city hosted the conference as I’d hate to incriminate this fine town for its legal and moral shortcomings. Suffice it to say, the city boasts casinos and prostitution is against the law… I think.
As I sat in front of my video poker machine, feeding it crisp twenty dollar bills with regularity and relishing in the fact that bourbon was free, I was eventually accosted by two young ladies and a gentleman. It was late at night (i.e., early in the morning) and it clearly seemed at first glance, even in my somewhat intoxicated state, that these two women could be ‘ladies of the evening.’ They featured many characteristics often associated with the common call girl: short skirt, low-cut shirt, knee-high boots, heavy make-up, doused in perfume, toting a small purse, chewing bubble gum, etc. You get my point.
Aside from the fact that I was suddenly being solicited by two call girls in a country where prostitution is still illegal, there was something else askew with this picture. What was up with the guy they were with? He couldn’t be….. their pimp, could he? His mere presence alone made me think perhaps these girls WEREN’T prostitutes. I mean the guy was white, geeky, 5-foot-6, wearing jeans, an old collared shirt, horn-rimmed glasses and sneakers. Where was the purple-feathered hat, extensive jewelry, gold tooth, sunglasses and cane of yesteryear. Am I stereotyping pimps? Far be it from me to offend an entrepreneur, but Michael Keaton and Henry Winkler were more menacing in “Nightshift” than this guy could ever dream of being.
As it turns out, the young ladies WERE call girls and the guy WAS their pimp. Is this what we’ve come to as a nation? Again, I don’t mean to judge a book by its cover. But how is this guy protecting his investment? With a slide rule and a finance degree? I’m no Bruce Lee, but I’m pretty sure I could have taken that guy in a pinch.
I long for the days of Huggy Bear where a pimp was a pimp and we knew it. If you crossed him, it meant your ass. Or maybe pimps were never actually like that at all and that’s just the way they we’ve portrayed them in movies and 1970s television shows. Perhaps they’ve had to change their image to stand out less in a crowd. Maybe it was a move to reduce overhead as those mink coats must have been eating into their budgets. Either way, it’s clear they’ve adapted their ways to become more business-oriented professionals in the 21st century.
And perhaps I’m in the wrong business.
This post was originally written Apr. 16, 2007
Perhaps the lack of fur coats is an attemp at politically correctness…(something I can relate to)…or maybe they are worried about the paint-throwers!
Reverend Rhythm (Chris)
Once one has that degree in pimpology the
only way from there is up ! Don’t let anyone
tell you any different. There are guys who have it
and then there are some who don’t. It’s just the luck
of the draw at the end of the day !
tophatal ………..
Guy was probably out of cash…therefore pimping his sisters.
PJD… Faux fur? So PETA put an end to pimpin’? Why do I picture Pamela Anderson and Snoop Dogg squaring off to the death?
Tophat… I know you got it, bra.
Lee… we all gotta make a livin’, right?
I am Fat Leo, bitches know my name,
sayin, “Hell Yeah, Fat Leo got all the game!”
I am Fat Leo, got ma hoes in check,
“give me all ma money o yo ass gets wrecked.”
I am Fat Leo, other pimps don’t compare,
I be poundin Old E while they be sippin Big Bear
I am Fat Leo, ma pink caddy’s got style,
don’t forget ma silk leisure suits and gold-tooth smile
I am Fat Leo, love fine poon and beer,
Screw Dat, I’m Fat Leo, Biggest Pimp of the Year!
Ladies and Gentlemen…. that’s Keith.
One of the whitest white men you’ll ever know.
I gots my PHD
Pimpin’ Hoes Degree
Han… I do believe that’s a major at the University of Miami
No comment on the Couture d’Pimp but as I finished your story one question remains unanswered…how’d the evening end? Did you “invest” in the services being offered?
Do tell.
Those who know, won’t tell… and those who’ll tell, don’t know.
– Ossie Davis, “Do The Right Thing”
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Wow, this is fantastic!
Thanks, Christine!
I always wanted to be a pimp. I guess this post has afforded me that opportunity.
Gentlemen, don’t forget to drop SportsChump’s name and receive a 10% discount at Christine’s House of Pleasure.