The puddle

There’s some­thing about hook­ers. And you can think of that in any way you like. Hook­ers have always been spe­cial social fig­ures. Peo­ple thought of their job as an unwor­thy thing to do. But pros­ti­tu­tion has also con­tin­u­ous­ly been a con­trast to ordi­nary people’s life — even if it was for some peo­ple clear­ly inte­grat­ed into their lives. So I guess it’s good to think about one’s own posi­tion towards hook­ers and pros­ti­tu­tion. Par­riFin does it this way:
The first ques­tion is: How much yoghurt did Par­riFin spill on her­self? And where? It seems to be more than a tiny drop on your shirt. And it was definet­ly enough to grab the thought of com­par­ing it with a hooker’s job.
I nev­er thought that hook­ers are train­ing with yoghurts to avoid get­ting too much pud­dles of sperm on their clothes. Most of them can han­dle it now, so that only overea­gered hook­ers cock up their clothes.
But I think for them it’s a kind of proof of their pro­fes­sion­al­ism. And shure­ly there are many hook­ers with wardrobes full of shirts of evi­dence. Like those gob­lets on the shelf in the liv­ing-rooms of ordi­nary peo­ple.