Seven years ago, before I became a Buddhist and took a vow of celibacy, I found myself in a den of iniquity known as The Hothouse. It was full of flowerpots holding flowering plants and Venus flytraps, and its fallen women took the noms de guerre Lilly, Lotus, Orchid, Rose, and Violet.
I wasn't carrying a tape recorder and am not absolutely sure which whore said what, but the discussion went approximately as follows: Violet, pregnant, intended to be tested; if it were male she would have an abortion. Lotus suggested that all pregnant women do likewise.
Lily proposed, "Let's also kill the males who have already been born."
Orchid claimed that a strangled man will die with an erection and then an electric shock will make him ejaculate. "You just solder an alligator clip on one wire and clip it on his ball and shove the other wire up his ass."
"Left ball or right?" asked Rose.
"The one that hangs lower", Orchid explained. "But you can only make him come once. Dead men can't reload."
Lotus hoped that some day some drug would enable women to reproduce by parthenogenesis like lizards. I knew that most lizards reproduce sexually; parthenogenesis occurs in Komodo dragons and certain species of whiptails, geckos, and rock lizards. A fascinating subject; I was tempted to deliver a lecture but managed to hold my tongue because I didn't want to sound pedantic.
I then noticed that, although the flowers were pretty, I wasn't feeling all that horny, and the place was a bit pricey, so I walked out without sampling the services. Later I chided myself for chickening out; those girls weren't very nice, but they were very hot.
Author notes
Written in New York City on June 7, 2009 at 1 AM in the MacDonalds on Broadway near West 96th Street, after consuming a quarter pounder.
Are you pro-prostitution?
Comments
1 - 10 of 10
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Good narrative. Well written, almost conversational in tone. It works well and is worthy of publication as a 'short' in some newspaper
Dry, witty, clever, 'dark' in its humor. Short punchy paragraphs - good layout and spacing. Compelling read. -
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Thank you for your encouragement. Do you have a newspaper in mind? Our local newspaper in Ulster County doesn't print this sort of thing.
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haha this is a great prose/story poem.
it's quite interesting.
to be honest, I clicked on the feature thing because your username is the same as my last name, but with one extra n at the end.
but regardless, I like the whole flower metaphor you have here. it's great. and this is quite fun and interesting to read.
it's crazy how/why/where we can be inspired.
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We might have a common ancestor. Then again we might not; it's a common name.
Anyway, I'm very glad that you like it.
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Am I pro-prostitution? Well, I have no moral problem about it and as long as women pay Me a minimum of £50 (c.US$65) per hour (with a compulsory 2 hours fee plus cab fares) I am relatively happy.
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I AM pro pleasure... in a do as thou will... harm none kinda way. Such a wicked garden this... strange behavior for any flower who has yet to be overcome by the heat of worn out passions abused by extremist natures. Aptly named however this HOTHOUSE where madness flames one's thoughts as well desires. Good thing you moved on to much greener pastures so to speak. Difficult it must be to tend a garden wherein man eating plants reside. Tis enough to cause anyone to seek speak a vow of celibacy.
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Welcome back. I like this poem. I am pro-prostitution, as long as it's a consensual, safe exchange between adults and no one is being kidnapped or pimped out. These prostitutes sound as though they became prostitutes out of desperation.
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Perhaps, hadn't thought of it that way and don't know why they would feel desperate. They were very attractive and made loads of money. Were they talking to each other, ignoring the male audience, their customers, or were they putting on an act for us? The latter, I'd guess.
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I am glad to see you back in conversation with us.
This one seemed rather closed: no tape recorder, no follow up on this reported episode. As I say, my emotional response is one of relief that you are alive and have a great doggie friend. -
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Follow up? I tried going back later but the place had been shut down by the cops. Most unfortunate and unfair. Mayor Giuliani committed adultery, a violation of one of the Ten Commandments; I was unmarried, so my fornication was a comparatively minor sin.
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