I was hanging out with some buddies over the weekend in the North Beach neighborhood of San Francisco, famous for clubs, bars and strip clubs.
We were walking down the street when a sleazy doorman stopped us outside of a small joint called Heaven. I thought it was a church or something then realized it wasn't a church or anything that would be looked highly upon by the church.
The doorman says something like, "No cover, no I.D., no hassles."
So why the fuck not, we thought. We walked up a narrow staircase followed by two strippers who couldn't have been far removed from high school.
There were four of us and two girls so they said, "Only two of you can come at once."
I was shoved towards a girl who led me into a back room -- the size of an apartment bedroom -- with a couch, bath tub, pole and probably all sorts of bacteria. The door was closed behind us.
The girl was like kinda of cute, but not that cute and a little too dirty for anyone's liking. She was brunette, pretty skinny and didn't have much of a body. If the test question was,
What illegal substance is this girl on?the answer would clearly be D.
d. All of the above
But here I was with her on my lap and alone in a bedroom. The options sounded good.
She asks me if I'm looking to have a good time. I tell her that I'm certainly not looking to have a bad time. So then she goes into her spiel:
Her: So it's fifty for a private show.
Her: Seventy-five for a hands-on lapdance.
Her: A hundred for a handjob.
Me: All right.
Her: Two hundred for a blowjob.
Me: Oh. Oh!
Her: And for three hundred you can go all the way.
Me: Ok. What can I get for six bucks?
That's when I was politely asked to leave.
And that's the story of my first time in a whorehouse.