MONDAY, 3/13/00
Today I felt a trifle guilty, listening to Allison's taped radio show with jasmine-who couldn't stop chuckling at "the blondness of it all." Allie was waxing enthusiastic about the joy of Hooking in that smooth yet breathless voice that has inspired so many other kinds of calls.
"This," Allie was saying, "is an empowering career. I see this as goddess work, I don't do it just for the money, Society benefits from the healing sexuality of women like me! We are responsible for relieving countless headaches, for teaching men about safe sex. We are not just sexual heaters. We are social healers. And yet we're being persecuted. By the patriarchy!"
"But," Doug Henwood, the host, replied in an earnest tone, think we have to acknowledge that many people, not as privileged or attractive as you, are forced into it by circumstance. How healing is it for them?"
"The New York Council of Trollops represents all the sex workers in this city!" she simpered. "And we're collecting used clothing in good condition for the NYCOT Street Project." She spelled out NYCOT's website for Henwood's listeners. "We accept shoes, clothing, accessories. A pair of designer boots can help a sex worker in Hunts Point command a higher price for her services! And a pair of pajamas will keep a homeless sex worker warm when she's not working. If you have blankets, coats, mittens -"
"What about the darker side of your industry?" the host asked. "Have you ever had a problem with a customer?"
There was an awkward pause.
"Well, for those of us who freely choose to be sex workers," she finally chirped, "we have learned to define our own boundaries. You see, Doug, this is an integral part of our job. We define the terms!"
My jaw dropped as I pictured Jack importuning Allie's doorman, overloading her voice-mail box, plotting a "surprise" orgy behind her back - all because Allie was foolish enough to take money for services not rendered. So much for Allie's terms and definitions.
"I've heard enough," Jasmine cackled, "The boundaried one has spoken."
"Wait, wait, you have to hear the phone calls!
We listened to a few abbreviated calls from lewd listeners. The host cut them off quickly.
"As I was telling Allison, there are seven words you can't use around here - we'll lose our license," he remarked dryly. "Bye for now,
Then a sweet-sounding elderly widower from Queens bemoaned a recent roundup of street girls in his neighborhood. "It's been a lonely two weeks," he told Allie. "Maybe your organization could send some ladies out to Roosevelt Avenue?"
"Oh, I wish we could," Allie burbled, "but that's illegal. We don't want to be charged with promoting prostitution, We're a support group for sex workers at every stage of their sexual and political evolution. Not an outcall service."
"Sexual evolution, eh? Well, you sound like a very interesting young woman. Good night."
Jasmine's response to all this was, at first, predictable. "Allison's throwing away the best years of her life! She wouldn't be wasting her time on this movement if she had any sense." Then she looked pleased. "She's giving that ex-hooker Roxana what'sher-name a run for her money! Has Roxana ever seen All About Eve? She'd better watch out! Allison's no brainiac but she's more plausible than the current leadership. For one thing, she's good-looking. And she waxes her snatch!" A partisan note was creeping in here. "That's more than we can say for Roxana! I mean, if there has to be a hookers' movement, I'd rather be represented by a chick who waxes. Wouldn't you?"