The Whorehouse

As some of you may have recalled, Zelda blogged about how I was dragged into a whorehouse by one of my friends a few years ago. I told her nothing happened and that I really didn't want to be there. Some of you responded to her telling her that you were all pretty sure nothing happened that day, despite the fact that you didn't know me at all. For that, I appreciate your comforting her. Let me tell you the story of what happened that day from my point of view.

I don't remember how the day started, but I remember it was Chris who was driving the car. He drove into a shady area of downtown Houston. I asked him where we were going. He told me it was a surprise. He pulled into the parking lot of a "Modeling Studio".

J: "Is This a Whorehouse?"

C: "Yep."

J: "I'm not going in there."

C: "Why not?"

J: "Because I don't want to."

C: "You don't have to do anything, just wait for me inside."

J: "You go ahead, I'll wait inside the car."

C: "You don't want to do that. This is not an area you want to be alone in."

J: "Shit"

So, I went inside to wait. When we approached the front door, Chris rang the doorbell. The door, enforced by burglar bars, swung open, and I swear the biggest black man I ever saw stood right before us. This guy was easily 7 foot tall and about 350 pounds. The guy was huge! He had the most menacing look on his face when he looked at me, but then he saw Chris and smiled.

"What's up Chris?"

"What's up big guy. Haven't seen you in awhile."

"Yeah, buddy! Good to see you again."

So, Chris was a regular there I thought. Still, that didn't stop him from frisking us both for weapons. Afterwards, he said, "Come on in gentlemen."

I walked into a hallway that lead directly to the "living room". The air felt so nasty that I didn't even want to breathe. It was quite humid and no air conditioning. Just a bunch of rotating fans running in the middle of the Houston heat. There were old, red velvet couches all around the room for people to sit. It was dimly lit with Christmas lights that surrounded the ceiling. In the center of the room was an old oak rectangular table with several ashtrays on it. On the south wall, there was a dark stairway.

Then, a fairly attractive woman in her 30's, I'm guessing she was the Madame, came over and asked us if there was anything we wanted. Chris got a beer. I got some hot tea. She asked if we were both going to "go upstairs." Chris looked at me and said, "I will, but he won't". The lady then said that I was such a good looking guy and that she really liked my eyes. Chris then said, "He's married." Yes, I proudly wear my wedding band to let all women and especially men that I'm taken. Sadly, Chris is married too. He just took his wedding band off. We weren't the only ones in the living room. I saw another guy on another couch just sitting there. After several minutes, his friend came down from upstairs happily singing and said, "Ready to go!" Then, they left.

That's when they came down. Prostitute after prostitute came down. They were all very attractive and dressed in very sexy lingerie. Chris picked the only white girl there, and she took him upstairs. I guess Chris felt as if he had something to prove to me since I was the only Asian guy he knew that was married to a white girl. Poor bastard.

Another Asian client came in and asked for a Korean girl. The Madame pulled out an Asian girl and said that she was Korean. The client just sat back and smoked his cigarette. The girl then asked in Vietnamese if she could have a cigarette too. The guy looked at her and said, "I thought you were Korean!" Eventually, he took her upstairs anyways. Yeah, I didn't think it mattered either. I just continued to sit on the couch, drinking my hot tea.

Chris finally came down from upstairs and we left. He couldn't drive, so I drove. I asked him,

"Hey man, why do you do it?"

"Because I can"

"Yeah, but you're married too"

"I know, but Janet (his wife) doesn't do everything that I like. Not only that, but she doesn't give it as much as I want it. So, you gotta do what you gotta do. Look man, I love her okay? What I do here has nothing to do with love. I don't love any of these girls. They just give me what I want when I want and all it costs me is $125. No expensive dinners, no emotions, no bullshit."

"If you say so, dude."

So, that was the story from what happened from my point of view. The entire time I was there, I kept thinking to myself, "Holy Shit! Any moment now the police are gonna come in here and arrest everyone. How am I gonna explain this one to my wife?"
So, I actually have a question to Trashman and Jack. If there had been a raid, would I have been arrested even though I was only drinking tea in the living room waiting for Chris? I know they would have had nothing to book me on, but I was curious to know if they even had a legal chance to even try.