Aug
Posted on 23rd August 2005
Last night on cable I watched another episode of “Cathouse: The Series,” the incredible show that chronicles the life and times of a bunch of people that work at the Moonlite Bunny Ranch, which is a completely legal whorehouse located somewhere in the awesome state of Nevada. As you can probably imagine, the show pretty much consists of a bunch of whores (I say this not in a pejorative fashion. These women are literally people who have sex for money, exactly as the word suggests.) hanging out and talking about what it’s like to live in the whorehouse and be a whore all the time. Joining them is a sort of low rent Hugh Hefner kind of guy who is also fat and bald, which sort of adds to the effect of his being a decadent guy who is the boss of whores. They all seem to have a lot of fun together, the whores and their boss, sitting on each others’ laps, getting drunk, and talking about how fun it is to be at the whorehouse all the time and how they are like one big happy family. Sometimes the camera will show the women in their bedrooms getting ready to bone some guy who has driven all the way out into the middle of the desert to pay money to have sex with someone who looks exactly like the kind of lady you’d pick up at 2 a.m. on wing night in a sports bar located in a strip mall in any crappy suburb in America. More often than not, the guy paying to have sex has a mustache and is wearing a pair of Dockers or something. The whore and the guy with the mustache sit and giggle for a few minutes while talking about exactly what he is going to get for a few hundred bucks and then next thing you know the camera cuts away and we are left to wonder about all the good times they must be having together. Then the camera will show some other whore splashing around in a swimming pool, playing with a hula hoop, or jumping around on a trampoline or something, which only serves to further ilustrate the fact that it’s good times all the time when you live in a whorehouse, even if you are just hanging out and not boning some guy with a mustache while his Dockers lay in a ball on your bedroom floor.
Also last night on “Cathouse: The Series”, they showed the whores playing with penis-shaped shot glasses of some sort and- as you can probably imagine- the whores just laughed and laughed the whole time, as if getting drunk weren’t already enough fun in itself to begin with. It was kind of like when you happen upon a bachelorette party and all the girls are all wasted and giggly and sipping pina coladas from penis-shaped straws while asking you to use their disposable camera to take a picture of them that is not only hilarious, but one that they will all want copies of and with good reason. They want to remember this night forever even if they dare not speak of it again in front of their husbands, boyfriends, or anyone else that they don’t want to know how much they enjoy drinking from those penis-shaped straws (On a related note, I once saw penis-shaped pasta at one of those irreverent novelty-type stores in the Village. I imagine the whores of Nevada would have gotten a kick out of that too.)
Sometimes I wonder what all the whores do when the cameras are off and they are faced with a bit of downtime at that whorehouse of theirs. Is it still all fun and games or do they pretty much hang out and smoke menthol cigarettes while dreaming of the day when they’ll pack up their fake boobs and tattered Frederick’s of Hollywood wardrobe and not live in a whorehouse anymore? And if they ever do leave, will they promise to call up the fat bald guy who runs the place every once in a while just to say hello?
Dave Hill
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