A Very Personable Hooker

Ok, since readers seemed to enjoy my last hooker story here, and since I just now had an face to face encounter with a woman whose vagina is for rent, I thought I'd blog the story right away while it's still fresh in my mind.

After a profitable session of poker (about which I hope to blog about later) at BCS just now, I walked toward the parking area and came to the slot area where I have seen literally hundreds of hookers (not at all once) over the past few years.

Getting close to the main areas where hookers patrol, I saw a young man talking to a blonde woman in the aisle.  My Spidey-sense immediately went off.  Having observed many hookers over the years, I can usually tell by the look of the couple (or more than a couple) and also by body language if I am looking at an established couple or a possible business discussion.  Of course when I see the woman approach the guy, it's easier, but these two had been talking before I arrived on the scene.

The gal was fairly attractive, long blonde hair, good figure, very high heels.  But she was wearing pants, tight pants to be sure, but not the mini-skirt that most (but no all) hookers wear.  From a distance I couldn't tell much about the top she was wearing other than that it too was tight.  As an aside, it has been my observation over the years that the actual Vegas hookers do not dress any near as sluttily as the regular young girls who come to Vegas to go clubbing and party, i.e, the non-professional girls.  Really, the gals who dress up for a night of clubbing, who are students or who have real jobs generally show an absurd amount of exposed flesh, almost too much to be allowed on the street.  A straight guy looking for eye candy could do a lot worse than just walk by the line of club-goers waiting to get admitted to a hot club in Vegas.  I swear if their fathers saw these gals dressed as they do in Vegas, they'd all have heart attacks.

Anyway, if a gal is dressed too sluttily, you can be sure she is not a hooker.  Hookers dress provocatively but they do show some restraint, unlike the club-goers.  The blonde I was looking at was dressed too modestly by Vegas club-going standards to be out for a night on the town.  But she was dressed just barely sexily enough to be a hooker.

I like to watch the interaction between hooker and would-be john and I only wish I could hear the conversation as well.  I tried to find a place to hide while still seeing the two talk without drawing the attention of either.  But I was sure the blonde had seen me.  After a few minutes, the guy headed one way and the blonde came into the slot area where on some nights, it is hot and cold running hookers. Apparently the blonde couldn't close the deal.

I tried to walk out of her sight and direction as I wasn't really looking to be approached by her.  But my efforts failed.  She came over towards me, then actually went past for me for a second, silently, which surprised me.  But then after a second or two, I sensed she stopped walking and sure enough I heard her say, "Hello.' 

I wasn't looking at her but there was no one else around so I knew she was talking to me.  I guess the possibility of getting blogging material was on my mind, because of instead of ignoring her and moving on, as I usually do, I turned to her and said Hi.

OK, I was involved in a conversation with a hooker.  Not the first time, but the first time recently.

She asked what I was doing.  I said I was just wondering around (actually pretty much the truth, tho I didn't add, "well, I'm looking for hookers so I can blog about them.")

She asked where I was from.  I said L.A., for some reason telling her the truth.
She then started chatting up a storm, becoming the chattiest and most personable hooker that I can recall.  She told me she was from Honolulu.  That was surprising....she looked about as Hawaiian as I do.  So I said, "Oh really, you don't look Hawaiian."

"Oh I'm not."  By now I had noticed a couple of things, and I don't mean her tits. Well, actually I am referring to her tits as one of the two things I noticed.  They were really quite large, and the top was cut to reveale a whole lot of cleavage.  The cleavage wasn't that noticable from a distance but up close, standing right next to her and looking down, wow, I got quite an eyeful.  They most definitely looked paid for, I would say there is a 99% chance this lady had paid some plastic surgeon for her breasts some time back.  The way they looked, plus her relatively trim waist revealed by the tight top made it pretty apparent she was not working strictly with original factory-installed equipment.

The other thing I noticed was that this non-Hawaiian blonde had a very non-Hawaiian accent, a totally unidentifiable one, at least to me. So she neither looked nor sounded Hawaiian.  She said she was of Sicilian heritage and told me how she ended up being born in Hawaii.  I didn't really follow this, but then she mentioned moving to Vegas with a (I think) 4 year old child.  But I have to say, her weird accent didn't seem at all Italian to me, either.  She blathered on for a few minutes but I didn't catch a lot of what she was saying as I was too focused on her fake tits trying to figure out a way to extricate myself from this conversation.

Finally she stopped talking about herself long enough to get to the point.  'So, are you here alone?"

Instantly I realized I had a way of bringing this conversation to a close--or to see if she would take the discussion to a whole 'nother level that would make for a really  interesting post.

I lied and said, "No, my wife is upstairs waiting for me."

She paused for a second or two.  Then she said, "Oh.  Well, I guess that means we can't have fun tonight."

There was an awkward pause as I said nothing.  I was wondering if she would suggest a way around this seeming problem.  But after a few seconds of silence, she just said, 'Well, too bad we can't have any fun together.  Have a good night."  And with that, she turned away from me started looking for her next potential client.

And that was that.  I walked around a bit more, saw two Black hookers talking to one guy, and the one that was not actively talking to the guy saw me and said "How are you" to me and gave me a big smile.  I ignored her so she could give her full attention to the prospect in front of me.  I left the area soon there after, noticing the blonde walking around busy sniffing out her next unattached guy.