Mocky's recent blog post on whores in Qatar inspired me to relay a few of my experiences in the US and here in Costa Rica.
While living in the US, I never interacted with any blatant stereotypical street prostitutes (although I am sure they're out there). The girls who have an interest in that type of career have adapted their behavior to be 'subtly whoresque'. A group of these girls can admit to themselves and therefore others about their intentions. You can find them on private snatch-chat for an average of $20 a month for your private session. Girls of instagram is a known phrase and code for instagram models who you can message directly on the site to met you or will gladly accept a plane ticket to join you on vacation.. maybe to Qatar even... I'm also not going into any details about webcam models or escort sites because you know them - they've been around.
Another group of girls exist in the US who are in pursuing fortune the same way; however, they chose to wear the mask of looking for a rich husband. It's in vogue to say that you want to marry an engineer but, of course for his mind, right? I've met numerous girls at college who were attending because they "just want to find a husband." A majority of them never worked or work as office admin. This behavior isint new, but the current generation wants to demand #metoo and, at the same time be entitled to a well off husband who comes with a house that includes an etsy workshop.
I was looking forward to seeing what legal prostitution looked like. I thought that the girls in a tropical paradise like Costa Rica, would create a fun and wild scene. One of my first outings led us to the Del Rey, which is a known hangout site for the local tutes. Except, when we got there - the restaurant was empty, besides for the two girls playing on their phones at one table (one table out of about 20). Not only were they sitting and not looking at all engaging, but I had to be told they they're prostitutes. So no, they didn't dress the part, look happy, or have men around them like I would have thought. The exception to this, was one guy who seemed to close the deal by telling the girl that, "I don't know how this works and didn't want to assume"... right?1
The next outing was at a hotel near the beach. This hotel had a pool that looked like it had been created for parties. The place had all of the trappings of an actual venue by having cool lights, music with a decent beat, a huge pool, and a bar at the center. This time the place was even populated, but with a bunch of twenty somethings girls who sat either alone or two to three to a table and played on their phones. Again, I had no idea that they were working due to their lack of expressions and movement. We were the only table that was even making audible noise. To be fair, guys were populating the place by awkwardly shuffling in and out of the pool area, looking at their feet, and without making eye contact - because no country knows how this works.
- Check out the comments for a better retelling and more exact information. [↩]
> I've met numerous girls at college who were attending because they "just want to find a husband."
This is actually what college was pretty much since they started letting girls in : first and foremost, marriage market.
> thought that the girls in a tropical paradise like Costa Rica, would create a fun and wild scene.
This was actually the case, twenty or so years ago. In truth tho, it was mostly white girls from Yurp/the US working a circuit which included CR, and they pulled the locals up a lot also.
For reasons that pump's all done working now, and the orcs unsurprisingly fell back to their natural level of indolent stupidity.
PS. The "didn't want to asume" dork was actually not at Del Rey but Jaco's Cocal, one of those shuffling feet contemplators.
Thanks - I fixed the location of the dork.
I'm telling y'all it was in fact at Del Rey. Some enchanted Saturday night some of us were enjoying cappuccino and nostalgia in that confused resto-bar of theirs with the discolit-garden adjacent. Across the street from the casino/hotel. You know, through the parking closet.
A few specimens in various interpretations of fringe and faux fur kept prancing the same track through the place unaccompanied, and there was the usual deliberation over which tits were fake and who was from where. A loose group of gringos came in attached to one of them and started dispersing over the pickings, such as they were, and that's when our gringo --the famous, special one-- was observed shuffling along with Faux Fur #7 or somesuch saying he didn't want to assume in unmistakable Miller Lite english.
Was this the one time I ordered the 19oz N Y steak and they produced a piddly once-and-a-half cafeteria slice of hoof, that I had them take away and all that ?
Jesus that place's gone to shit, at some point in its history it was a world-class restaurant.
Same place, different episode. As I recall even their resident cat had abandoned the thing last time we went.
Similar to Mocky's post, Hannah's comment outshines the post itself!
I shall re update for the truth.