It was not among the most important stories in the paper, though it was among the most unique and entertaining. Seems the always disciplined people of Germany, at least in the city of Bonn, have devised a plan to capitalize on the legal presence of streetwalkers in their midst. Similar to receipts obtained from parking meters, hookers must now pay for their ambling along the city’s red light district thoroughfare (http://nyti.ms/occ3Vg).
Legal prostitution intrigued my friends Brian and David during our college sophomore year, so much so they decided to fly to the notoriously liberated Dutch city of Amsterdam during spring break. I agreed to join them, but my parents, who had no qualms about sending me to Israel, Italy and France for eight weeks two summers earlier, would not sanction (read that, pay for) the trip. They would, however, fund a romp in San Juan, Puerto Rico, as my brother Bernie had spent a spring break or two there.
It was too late to sign up for one of the college group trips. No problem. Bernie advised simply flying down to San Juan and finding a pensionne or guest house in the Condado Beach area. It would be much cheaper than a hotel, he assured me. Armed with his guarantee, I took a taxi from the airport to the Condado Beach district. With my heavy bag in hand (back then suitcases did not come with rollers), I started my search about noon under the hot Caribbean sun. Two hours later, I had exhausted all the possibilities. I was desperate, thirsty, hungry, and more than a little annoyed (and concerned) I had listened to my big brother.
Not one room was to be had anywhere within the Condado Beach area. Around 2:30, I realized I’d have to expand my search. Just outside the eastern edge of the district I spotted the Bell Inn Hotel. It was blue on the outside, kinda dark on the inside. When I asked, the clerk behind the desk said there was a room available, $40 for eight nights. As happy as I was to hear I would be paying hundreds less than I had expected, I asked to see the room first. As I walked up the stairs to the second floor, a Great Dane dog stirred in the lobby. The room was small, neat, with a private bath. I paid the $40.
After resting, I dressed to meet friends in the casinos along the main drag of the area. Now, back in 1968 San Juan was an open city, meaning the stretch of pavement between the La Concha Hotel and the Condado Beach Hotel was a virtual meat market of all shapes and sizes. One particular lady of the night attracted our attention. Overweight, she stood out in a hot pink pants outfit. We couldn’t comprehend how anyone could find her appealing.
Around 2 am, as I was returning to my room a few dollars poorer for my wagering, my eye caught a man leaving the Bell Inn Hotel with the pink pants-suited lady on his arm. Oh yeah. I immediately understood The Bell Inn Hotel normally charged by the hour, not the week. In renting me the room, management had set me up as the legitimating customer should the police decide to question if the Bell Inn was a true hotel.
No matter. They didn’t bother me. I didn’t bother them. They changed the sheets every day. Hot water spewed out of the shower. I came home a happy man.
Next year I chose San Juan without argument as my spring break destination. I immediately went to the Bell Inn Hotel. Closed. No matter how hard I banged on the door, no response. In the intervening 12 months, San Juan had cleaned up its public act. Not a hooker in sight. My renewed housing search again failed to find any vacancies. After two hours I returned to the Bell Inn Hotel. Almost 20-year-olds aren’t supposed to cry, but I was ready to let go a good sniffle when I spotted the Hotel Lux across the street.
Yes, there was a room, actually a mini-suite with a bedroom and sitting room. Mine for $60 for eight nights. A 50% increase in price, but well worth it, in my eyes at least. Not so worth it to my friends, who, upon seeing the modest Hotel Lux convinced me to move out and stay with them at the luxurious El San Juan Hotel near the airport. I will admit I felt safer there, but somehow think my stay at the Hotel Lux would have been more colorful.
Showing posts with label prostitution. Show all posts
Showing posts with label prostitution. Show all posts
Friday, September 2, 2011
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Sugar Daddies, Trust in God, The Summer Camp Experience
Sugar Daddies: Or perhaps I should have titled this segment Sugar Babies. Either way, we’re dealing with the same phenomenon, albeit in different cultures.
Seems young women in America and China are turning to the oldest profession in the world after finding careers in modern walks of life not forthcoming. Recent articles portray college coeds and graduates as independent contractors plying the sex trade for profit.
In the case of U.S. practitioners (let’s not call them prostitutes for now), the thrust of this new-found interest is to find someone(s) to pay off their mounting college tuition bills (http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2011/07/29/seeking-arrangement-college-students_n_913373.html).
In China, a land of increasingly stiff competition to supplant the U.S. as the world’s dominant economic power, young nubile women are status symbols sought by the wealthy and powerful, not all of whom are eligible bachelors. Indeed, having a mistress is the modern day version of keeping a concubine (http://www.nytimes.com/2011/08/10/world/asia/10mistress.html?ref=world).
It’s hard not to smile when reading these stories, though I must admit they portray rather discouraging states of the mores and fiscal conditions of the two largest economies in the world.
In God We Trust? Not so fast. Though our paper money extols trust in the Almighty, a survey by Public Policy Polling of North Carolina, a Democratic-leaning firm, found barely half of all Americans believe God is doing a good job.
As reported on Wednesday’s The Colbert Report, in response to the question, “If God exists, do you approve or disapprove of God’s performance,” just 52% of the 928 Americans polled in mid July answered in the affirmative. Nine percent disapproved, while 40% were “not sure” (those numbers add up to 101%, but don’t worry—some angel must have been sitting on the head of a poll taker’s pen causing the lapse in math).
Hard to say why God was having almost as much trouble as President Obama, whose approval ratings in another recent PPP survey hit just 46%. But Stephen Colbert had as logical a reason as any for God’s less than inspiring numbers: “The public is always tough on a prominent figure who had a child out of wedlock.”
Jewish Indians? I am familiar with Iroquois Indians. I am familiar with Camp Ramah, a chain of Jewish overnight and day camps throughout the United States, Canada and Israel. But I was caught off guard by a mini-bus scurrying around Yonkers the other day sporting the Camp Ramaquois name tag. Had I run across proof the 10 lost tribes of Israel had evolved into Native Americans? (That gag is one of the funnier bits of dialogue in the now classic western Cat Ballou.) Was Camp Ramaquois melding Jewish and Native American heritages?
Anyway, I googled Camp Ramaquois and found it to be a day camp in Pomona, NY. From everything I saw on the Web site, it appears to be a wonderful place to spend a summer. But it surely was not the type of summer camping experience I had. Nor did it reflect positively, in my mind, on the toughness of our youth to endure a summer in the great outdoors.
Now, Gilda would tell you the sleepaway camps I attended for 15 years were cushy. After all, their bunks had indoor plumbing and we barely ever hiked or camped out in the woods. She’d go positively bonkers if she knew the conveniences today’s campers enjoy at Ramaquois, as described by its Web site (italics added for emphasis):
* Over 50 fixed buildings, including air-conditioned facilities such as the gymnasium, movie theater, work shops, craft areas, computer lab and dining room;
* Spring-fed, natural five acre lake encompassing 2 "bongo" water trampolines, bumper boats, water bikes, paddle boards, inner tubes, "water-duckies", fountain sprays, kayaks and a professional team of lifeguards;
* 9 softball fields, 6 tennis courts, 3 basketball courts, 2 hockey rinks, 1 indoor and 3 grass volleyball courts, 3 soccer fields, 2 wiffle ball courts, 2 Bonzo Ball walls, 2 Ga-Ga courts and 6 pickle ball courts;
* 8 pools, all with a water temperature of 84 degrees;
* Air-conditioned health center with five registered nurses and an EMT;
* Separate Junior Camp facilities including air-conditioned bunks, climbing wall and challenge course and hockey rink:
* A state-of-the-art archery range;
* Athletics Pavilion and gymnastics equipment including pommel horses, uneven bars and a tumble track;
* Vertical reality climbing tower and element park;
* Zip line over Rama Lake;
* Nature science center, including a petting zoo and fishing dock;
* Water Works spray park.
I don’t know about you, but I totally want to go there! A/C in the bunks and dining room! 84 degrees in the pool! Sign me up. I might even learn to swim there!
Seems young women in America and China are turning to the oldest profession in the world after finding careers in modern walks of life not forthcoming. Recent articles portray college coeds and graduates as independent contractors plying the sex trade for profit.
In the case of U.S. practitioners (let’s not call them prostitutes for now), the thrust of this new-found interest is to find someone(s) to pay off their mounting college tuition bills (http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2011/07/29/seeking-arrangement-college-students_n_913373.html).
In China, a land of increasingly stiff competition to supplant the U.S. as the world’s dominant economic power, young nubile women are status symbols sought by the wealthy and powerful, not all of whom are eligible bachelors. Indeed, having a mistress is the modern day version of keeping a concubine (http://www.nytimes.com/2011/08/10/world/asia/10mistress.html?ref=world).
It’s hard not to smile when reading these stories, though I must admit they portray rather discouraging states of the mores and fiscal conditions of the two largest economies in the world.
In God We Trust? Not so fast. Though our paper money extols trust in the Almighty, a survey by Public Policy Polling of North Carolina, a Democratic-leaning firm, found barely half of all Americans believe God is doing a good job.
As reported on Wednesday’s The Colbert Report, in response to the question, “If God exists, do you approve or disapprove of God’s performance,” just 52% of the 928 Americans polled in mid July answered in the affirmative. Nine percent disapproved, while 40% were “not sure” (those numbers add up to 101%, but don’t worry—some angel must have been sitting on the head of a poll taker’s pen causing the lapse in math).
Hard to say why God was having almost as much trouble as President Obama, whose approval ratings in another recent PPP survey hit just 46%. But Stephen Colbert had as logical a reason as any for God’s less than inspiring numbers: “The public is always tough on a prominent figure who had a child out of wedlock.”
Jewish Indians? I am familiar with Iroquois Indians. I am familiar with Camp Ramah, a chain of Jewish overnight and day camps throughout the United States, Canada and Israel. But I was caught off guard by a mini-bus scurrying around Yonkers the other day sporting the Camp Ramaquois name tag. Had I run across proof the 10 lost tribes of Israel had evolved into Native Americans? (That gag is one of the funnier bits of dialogue in the now classic western Cat Ballou.) Was Camp Ramaquois melding Jewish and Native American heritages?
Anyway, I googled Camp Ramaquois and found it to be a day camp in Pomona, NY. From everything I saw on the Web site, it appears to be a wonderful place to spend a summer. But it surely was not the type of summer camping experience I had. Nor did it reflect positively, in my mind, on the toughness of our youth to endure a summer in the great outdoors.
Now, Gilda would tell you the sleepaway camps I attended for 15 years were cushy. After all, their bunks had indoor plumbing and we barely ever hiked or camped out in the woods. She’d go positively bonkers if she knew the conveniences today’s campers enjoy at Ramaquois, as described by its Web site (italics added for emphasis):
* Over 50 fixed buildings, including air-conditioned facilities such as the gymnasium, movie theater, work shops, craft areas, computer lab and dining room;
* Spring-fed, natural five acre lake encompassing 2 "bongo" water trampolines, bumper boats, water bikes, paddle boards, inner tubes, "water-duckies", fountain sprays, kayaks and a professional team of lifeguards;
* 9 softball fields, 6 tennis courts, 3 basketball courts, 2 hockey rinks, 1 indoor and 3 grass volleyball courts, 3 soccer fields, 2 wiffle ball courts, 2 Bonzo Ball walls, 2 Ga-Ga courts and 6 pickle ball courts;
* 8 pools, all with a water temperature of 84 degrees;
* Air-conditioned health center with five registered nurses and an EMT;
* Separate Junior Camp facilities including air-conditioned bunks, climbing wall and challenge course and hockey rink:
* A state-of-the-art archery range;
* Athletics Pavilion and gymnastics equipment including pommel horses, uneven bars and a tumble track;
* Vertical reality climbing tower and element park;
* Zip line over Rama Lake;
* Nature science center, including a petting zoo and fishing dock;
* Water Works spray park.
I don’t know about you, but I totally want to go there! A/C in the bunks and dining room! 84 degrees in the pool! Sign me up. I might even learn to swim there!
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