Working Hearts' First Flame

But not the sexy kind.

I just want to publish one of the two rude and inappropriate anonymous comments I received today. The following is a good example of the kind of comment that won't make it past the moderators (except in this bizarro exception). I encourage a broad perspective of viewpoints and opinions, in submissions and comments, and it is totally fine to (respectfully) disagree.

However, rude, inflammatory or super nut-jobby comments will not make the cut. And remember, this is a blog for current/former sex workers and their current/former personal, unpaid lovers and partners, so if you don't fit that criteria, don't try to slip past the ho-dar.


So delight in this frothing rant, dear readers, as it is the last you will hear from this Anonymous and their ilk.

Oh, WARNING. Strong, potentially triggering violent language below. There is nothing here that will help you feel connected to a community or good about your relationship, so do not read if terribly violent misogynist and homophobic language will ruin your day.













From Anonymous
"The only real fully compatible mate for a prostitute is a real pimp. You have guys that might be partially compatible and some guys will be allright with it for a week or month but he is a square and the first argument you have he will call you a WHORE and not in a nice way. Pimps accept their women for being hoes and they forbid them to do unsafe nasty sex practices like bbbj dfk daty, where a high percentage of indy renegade prostitutes without pimps do daty bbbj dfk. Why do prostitutes without pimps lie? Because they want to live a double life and they are living a lie. It is wrong to lie and some square guys will beat up or kill their woman if they catch her fucking one man so imagine what can happen if he finds out she fucked and sucked hundreds may-be thousands of men and if she does bbbj and gives him a disease he might very well murder her. Imagine a married man being a down low homo getting his anus and rectum pummeled the average woman would be devasted if she caught her husband doing that. It is wrong and selfish to lie. The reason a lot of prostitutes don't have pimps is because they are to selfish to give their man the money she makes. She rather keep the money for herself and still make her square boyfriend pay for everything. But that greed always back fires and blows up in her face! Real hoes be with real pimps. The rest are just a fraud and they are living a lie! "

"Just Whoreable" by Will Rockwel

"You're JUST a fucking WHORE." Could my boyfriend say that—mean that—my Guy, a former hustler himself? I had to face it—I was holding a dustpan full of broken glass and crumbled drywall, and I'd lived the American Nightmare before. My partner of one year had just left me, violently, for being a working boy.

"You're a whore, whores don't love ANYONE, and you never loved ME." His slapdash logic nonetheless cut deep. After a year of foreplay and pillow talk, hard core fucking and excruciating honesty, all our love had been reduced to a single tautological falsity.

It's an ancient school that teaches Harlots are callous and unloving, more, as Blake phrased it, the prostitute "blights with plague the marriage-hearse," bringing pain to the young and unsuspecting ensnared in his or her Devil's trap. But I didn't think my boyfriend, a former modern-day hustler, ascribed to the thought—despite heaps of evidence to the contrary, of an almost all-American regularity to tricking as well as the relatively low STI transmission rates in most sex-trading "populations," the belief persists that sex workers are immoral, disease-spreading predators. And don't forget innocent victims.

I identify with les immoralistes myself. "Many are the victims she has brought down." Proverbs 7:26

While I feel at a distance from other "normal" relationship-goers at dysfunctional moments like these, I have never felt so close to my moralizing Baptist mother as I scrubbed cakes of drywall off the floors—just like she used to, on her knees, crying with Comet® powder scraping the red off her fingernails. She wasn't a card-carrying "whore" like I am, but it was my step-father's word for her and she was never one to DEN-Y that Devil, as we say on Sunday. While I, on the other hand, have listened to too much Tina Turner, too many motherly shrieks of "You're traumatizing the children!" from behind closet doors, to take this particular abuse from anyone ever, and I mean ever, again.

I called the NYPD.*

And now we're over . . . but, I guess, it's our beginnings I wonder about. If I've always been a "whore," and he's known it, I need a reason why he didn't end it at the start, obsta principii. I need a reason why, after all our careful conversations, naïve theories—polyamory, free love—I couldn't see the undercurrent of disaster.

Is it possible to love and be loved while whoring?

On more dramatic, by no means characteristic, days like today, I wonder if I'll end like Zola's stigmatizing portrait of the prostitute Nana, diseased, French and unloved. I don't know which fate is worse ... In the meantime, I'll try to answer the unanswerable question, is it possible? by patching up the fist-sized hole in the drywall and sweeping the glass shards off the floors. Every dysfunctional, melodramatic and, of course, normal relationship needs its drywaller, I say, the partner who's left alone, sweeping up the dust we inevitably kick up, punch up, in our all-too-human "love."

*I called the Police Dept., but it was my friend M— who really saved me, my house mate, who came home that night and surveyed the damage and tried to force my flailing partner out the door—"Get Out! Get OUT!" He left, however, only when the officers arrived. No charges were pressed..

Read more from Will Rockwell at Sex!Work?