At Least Ten Reasons Why I Will Never Be A Male Prostitute

A friend of mine used to say that in his next life he wanted to come back as either a fat Soprano or a gorgeous dumb hunk who was hung to his knee. We used to fantasy about being the latter and how much money we could make as a prostitute and revel in the fact that we would be too dumb to have his Catholic or my Jewish background to cause us the enormous guilt that we felt would be associated with this profession if we did it in this life. He recently got liposuction and supposedly looks fabulous. Of course, it's not the same as being hung to your knee but it does make him more attractive and although I prefer to shape my body naturally (going to the gym and trying to stay away from ice cream sandwiches) I'd be lying if I didn't say I was jealous. But I want to stay completely natural in my body sculpting so that I won't be disqualified from the Gay Games. (Okay, let's face it; the only way that I'm going to the Gay Games is if they create a "Name That ShowTune" team. Which, by the way I'm sure I would score a perfect 10!) So while I was at the gym this morning, seeing all the men who probably could be (and since it's Vegas, probably are) prostitutes, the list in my head started forming of all the reasons I could never be a prostitute, at least not in this life. So allow me to present at least ten reasons I wouldn't make a good male prostitute! - Don't Get Me Started!

1. What would my mother say? I remember when I was an actor and she would tell people. Their response was always the same, "Oh, really...hmm...well, where does he act?" (said with great sarcasm) My mother would list my credits like a good agent but let's face it, unless you're on Law And Order no one thinks you could possibly be "acting" and be successful. So imagine what she would say if I was a prostitute and what the people would say, "Hmmm...oh, a prostitute eh, so where does he ‘tute'?" Not good.
2. I don't have the right clothes. You know how some people look better naked and some look better in clothes? I don't fall into either of these categories. The last article of clothing that looked great on me was a pair of Mouseketeer ears, and while I'm sure some people would be attracted to that from a kinky point of view, for me, it's just the only hat that looks good on me and covers my bald spot better than a yarmulke. The thought of trying to feel good about myself in assless chaps just makes the whole endeavor seem even more than a little impossible for me.
3. I have a thing about cleanliness. I would be scrubbing my "dates" down like Meryl Streep in Silkwood and boiling them before they could even touch me. Imagine the turn off that would be? Much less the thought of me using that "hand sanitizer" on every part of their body before we could do anything. "Oh, you like your nipples played with? Oh, shit, where did that sanitizer go? Look under your ass for me, will ya?"
4. I would want my "services" to have catchy names. You know, like they do in famous delis, where they name the sandwiches after a celebrity? On my menu would be things like the Ethel Merman - For this service I would wear bright red lipstick, keep my mouth in a perfect "o" position and at the moment of climax I would do the end of "Rose's Turn" from Gypsy, "For me, for me, for me...FORRR MEEEEE!" Or the Ben Affleck - A lot of sucking but not all that much talent.
5. I couldn't imagine licking the ass of someone I don't know (or of many of the people that I DO know either). Enough said.
6. While I'd like to think that I would be a high priced prostitute, I realize that I would probably be more like Morty the discount sock vendor at a flea market. The metal change belt would probably pinch the hell out of my naked skin as I made change for my customers.
7. I would haggle too much with my pimp. I can hear the conversation now. "Listen Meat, I'm telling you, that guy was so huge that I felt like one of those women in Mexico who get fucked by the horses. I need a little money for a massage or at the very least one of those doughnut cushions to sit on. And that other guy I did tonight, I'm telling you that I got carpal tunnel from him. I felt like Aunt Eller in the beginning of the musical Oklahoma, I was "churning the butter" for what seemed like hours but never got anything more than a dribble of clotted cream! Do you have the workman's comp forms? My wrist is killing me."
8. I'm too much of an organizer. I would probably have a union set up within weeks of working as a prostitute. I'd spend more time on the phone with the other prostitutes than with clients. I'd like to think of myself as the Norma Rae of prostitutes. "Listen Harry, you don't have to stand for that shit (literally - after all, you told the "John" you'd only do the piss thing) look I'm going to call a guy I know and he's going to really beat the shit out of that guy, how is that? And next time, you really need to be more clear in the initial negotiations, will you do that for me? And think about changing your name, Harry Restroom...I mean, come on...what do you think people are going to think with a name like that? Of course the think they can shit on you with a name like that! No, I'm not saying you should use your real last name, Berenstein, too much like that kids book about the bears. Just consider something like Harry Rod, even that would be better, will you?"
9. I have a really short attention span and I have a feeling that prostitutes are involved with orgies (and having never been involved in one in my life), not only do I think I would be shocked and doing a lot of inappropriate giggling (a nervous condition I've had since I was a youth. You know when you're over a friend's house as a kid and they're getting yelled at? I would get so nervous that I would laugh - it always got me an invitation to the door and my friends in bigger trouble but I couldn't and can't help it to this day, it's just my defense mechanism.) So even if I had my giggles under control, I think I would be distracted by all the wrong things. You know, like everyone would be getting naked and I would be asking where they got their jeans, who the designer was and how much they paid. Or I can see me saying things like, "Oh, a cock ring with crystals on it...now are those Swarovski? Is it hard to keep them so shiny? I mean the lube must really dull the sparkle. Oh look at that guy's harness. I swear, feel it, it's as soft as butter. Now that's nice leather. It's a shame he didn't have a coat made out of it or something you can wear when you're not, well, you know, just at an orgy." Yeah, I can't see them wanting me to be part of the orgy for long...ten minutes and I'd have a ball gag in my mouth and be hogtied in a corner.
10. I'm too needy. Afterward I would be asking my tricks way too many questions. "So you really liked it when I arched my back? You can tell me, I mean we don't really even know one another so although I'll be a little offended, I won't be crushed. And what about when I howled at the moon? Turn on or turn off? So you like me? You really like me?"

No. I don't see a future for me (in this life anyway) as a male prostitute. I'm not as pretty as Richard Gere in American Gigolo and while the thought of the crack allowing me to finally be "gay thin" is appealing, I can't see myself injecting myself as I'm less a hypodermic freak and more a hypochondriac. So I'll never be a crack whore. I'll never be any kind of whore at all and for that there are several "Johns" sighing a collective sigh of relief because let's face it, can you imagine me showing up at your hotel door? I can't either. I'm sure there are more but these were at least ten reasons I wouldn't make a good male prostitute! - Don't Get Me Started!

Read more Scott @ www.somelikeitscott.com