I Saw A Real, Live Prostitute, At The Joyce Kilmer Rest Stop Last Sunday, Not Far From My Hometown!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                        The things we do for love--and how they sometimes come back to bite us!!!!!  Several Sundays ago, I went with my beloved to the Film Forum, to see this documentary about Hannah Arendt.  I winced, having been led to believe it was three hours!  It was only two hours and five minutes, but  it felt like three! Oh, my God!  It was brilliantly made, but it was like a dose of Ayn Rand, mixed with Joan Didion!  I had to go home, and take to my bed, after that.

                                         Well, last weekend, we took an L and M Bus Tour to Philadelphia, City Of Brotherly Love, to see the Barnes Museum.  We rode in what amounted to a travelling van, with people like this charming woman from the Actors Temple, and a woman named Hazel, (Come on, now, Baby Boomers, sing--"Who's the gal that's everybody's pal?  It's Hazel!!!!!!!!!!!!!") who was no Shirley Booth, and had to be one of the top kvetches I have ever encountered.

                                           We had a delicious lunch at this nautical themed restaurant called the Positano Coast!. It was charming and sophisticated, though some of the oldsters seemed put out by it.  You see, darlings, often when Monsieur and I go on these trips, we are the youngest travelers.  If this is what retirement looks like, I might have to work!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                              The saving grace of the Barnes is that it is in an interesting part of town.  The collection it houses is fabulous, but the layout encourages sensory overload.  And the interior of the building is genuinely ugly.  After well over an hour there, we went out, and roamed the neighborhood.  We started to walk toward a construction ridden area that made me fear we were going into Kensington.  You  want to see prostitutes?  That is where you go.  I learned this from "Churchgoing People," on "Cold Case."

                                               Of course, since it was open, we walked into the public library.  The place was beautifully designed, the collections logically organized, but the staff looked as dour as any other library I have seen.  There was a beautiful walled diorama display exhibit of the Grimm Brothers and their stories that I thought was outstanding.  Bur either there is no air conditioning, (All right, Theater Queens!--"It's ninety degrees!  Have mercy, John, please!  It's hot as Hell, in Philadelphia!") or it simply was not on.  The entrance door was wide open beckoning, which led us to go in.

                                                 Down the street was an affiliated business called the Book Corner.  But it was closed.  Too bad, because I would have walked out of there full handed!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                                 There was a Starbucks, but it was jammed--just like in New York!!!!!!!--so we ended up in the dining section of Whole Foods, drinking coffee, and munching on a cookie.  It was almost time to go back to the bus, and we had to use the bathroom, as there was not one on the bus!!!!!!
Well, when I came out this woman waiting glared at me, as she went in, and slammed the door!  I mean, I had to pee!  And I am over 60!  Cut me some slack lady!!!!!!!!!!!!  So much for this "Brotherly Love" jazz!!!!!!!!!!!!  Where is Kevin Bacon, when he is needed???????????

                                                    I hate to say the prostitute was the highlight, but, in a manner of speaking, she was.  We went to the rest stop to do what was needed, and when we came out, I saw her standing by the trucks.  I pointed, and we both agreed that's what she was up to.  In fact, we saw her hook up with one of the truckers, go in for a bite, then go back to his truck.  Uhm hmmmmmmm!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                                    Prostitutes near my hometown?  How could this happen?  The sad fact is, it probably was, all through my growing up years, but what did I know???????????

                                                      I knew something now.  I knew that if this gal wanted to make it in this business, she would have to dress better than that.  I mean, it takes a gay man, to dress a hooker!  Even with what I had on, if I had stood at the other corner of the truck stop, you can bet I would have gotten more action.  Not that I was looking for any, or ever have--at a truck stop!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                                       But, if I were. here is what I would have worn.  A flaming red wig, reminiscent of Belle Watling, a gold lame sleeveless blouse, a short pink skirt, with white stars, black fishnet stockings, and matching pink Joan Crawford "Fuck Me" pumps!!!!!!!!!!!!  Now that is how to dress!!!!!!!!
Almost as cute as Reese Witherspoon in "Freeway."

                                                         It's tough out there, hons!  Even in the World's Oldest Profession, you've got to look your best!

                                                          In a way, it was the perfect ending to a perfect day.  And it had theatrical importance.  Remember the line in "1776" about "going whoring in New Brunswick?"

                                                            See you soon, Philly!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!