Sorry, Hookers Don't Count
Quick, what’s your number? Yes, you know exactly what number I’m talking about. That magical number of people you have had sex with (sex, by the way, is defined by me as penetration of any orifice below the waist. So, sorry to all you Lourdes girls who live by the “It’s not sex if I can’t get pregnant” mantra. But we definitely do need to hang out sometime). Before you tell yourself what your final tally is, I need to hip you to one important rule: Hookers don’t count.
“But White Dade,” you say, “Why doesn’t it count? It’s sex, it’s with a person, why shouldn’t it count?” Why? Because hookers aren’t people, that’s why. No, actually, that’s not why, but I do have a very valid reason: Going pro is the sexual equivalent of losing weight through liposuction; You get your goal without any real work. Therefore you cannot appreciate it nearly as much. If you and your boys are trying to create a modern-day Spur Posse, paying for it is just downright cheating. If you are in a slump or dry spell, giving money to some girl you call out of the phone book is going to do about as much for your confidence as your mother telling you you are extremely handsome. If you are a virgin, getting a hooker isn’t going to show you what it takes to get a woman into bed. Although, I guess “using money" is as valuable a lesson as any, so disregard that last one. My point is that pros not only don't count towards lifetime totals, they don't count for slump-busitng, ethnicity checklists, or any other sort of classificaiton you have for your sexual history. Except whores.
Sex, to 20-something guys, is all about conquest. Accomplishment. Feeding your fragile young ego. That is why so many of us are obsessed with perfecting our performance. But if you are treating it as a normal business transaction, then getting laid by a hooker is no more gratifying than buying Big Gulp at 7-11. Perhaps more physically gratifying, but there are some hard-core Mountain Dew fans out there who might argue that point as well. While having sex with a prostitute is a means to a sexual end, you don’t feel better about yourself having done so. Maybe not worse, but certainly not better. Whereas even going home with a pig makes you say, “Hey, at least that girl thought I was hot.”
Some may choose to invoke the wisdom of Charlie Sheen here by saying “You’re not paying a hooker for sex, you’re paying her to leave.” Yes, CHALRIE SHEEN is paying her to leave. You, on the other hand, YOU are paying for the sex. Let’s get that straight. Because that girl that Charlie is tossing out at 6AM? You would crawl through 500 yards of raw sewage to wash her dog’s hair, and you know it.
And yes, ladies, going guy-pro doesn’t count for you either. Because if you are just fucking male-prostitutes all the time, it doesn’t mean you are a slut doing it to boost her sagging self-esteem or to ease her festering insecurities. It means you are just a girl who likes to get fucked right without dealing with any of the social-ramification bullshit. So this should not count towards your number either. Because we all know that a high number for a girl is equally as embarrassing as a low one for a guy.
There is one exception: If you want to pull a Nick Stokes and fuck an off-duty escort, then that would count. But no money can be exchanged. This is an encounter you probably would have had were she a slutty accountant or a morally casual travel agent anyway, so her profession is irrelevant. I say this because I can’t say with 100% certainty that some of my ex’s didn’t cheat on me for money. And they still definitely count. Though sometimes I wish they didn’t.
So go ahead and call that ad in the back of your local free weekly, use that card you got on the street in Vegas, or take that weekend trip to TJ. It’s all well and good in the name of dirty, depraved fun. But don’t try to tell me your lifetime total is in the triple digits when you paid for 90 percent of them. Because you didn’t accomplish a goddamned thing, and I am not impressed.