Prostitutes in Paradise? Trollops in the Elephant’s Graveyard. Say it isn’t so.
My first encounter with ho’s while on the job happened when I was a rank rookie in 1963. The newest cop, I hadn't even been to the academy yet and was acting as Duty Officer/Dispatcher. About 11 p.m. two lovely young ladies, in revealing dresses and showgirl makeup, sashayed up to my desk.
“Help you?” I asked.
One was Barbie blond, the other had long, dark hair like Cher. Barbie answered. “We just wanted to let you know what a lame-ass town you live in—if you don’t know already.”
“It ain’t New Orleans,” I said.
“Tell me about it,” Cher said, “and we just wasted an evening's wages findin’ that out.”
“How's that?”
“Case ya didn't know, we’re workin’ girls from Miami. We read about the Pet Milk convention over at the Beach Club and decided, havin’ heard so much about Naples, to come over and have a nice little vacation and turn a few tricks."
I'm sure my eyes lit up at this blatant admission.
"Didn't work out that way. We lost our ass. If one of those old codgers had ever had a bone, some dog had carried it off and buried it.”
“Yeah,” said a pouting Barbie, “We could've gotten more action with a bowl of wet noodles.”
I laughed.
"So, we already have our room rented for the night, and we decided to drop by to see if maybe we could perform some public service. Unless the cops over here are all relics, too. Prices slashed. . . and maybe. . . if you show us a good time. . ."
Being a rookie, I was stunned. Having served a hitch in the Marines, I was conversant with the concept of prostitution. And I knew that in big cities the cops had special arrangements with hookers. Maybe Miami was like that and that's why the girls were so open about their proposition. But it was supposed to be illegal and I probably should be doing something about it.
I said “Excuse me a minute," and went to the back room to consult with the Sergeant who was in the office preparing for shift change at eleven. I told him about what was going on and that I wasn't sure how to proceed. He peeked around the door frame, to check out the two ladies, and said. "These vice things are tricky. Better let me handle it. Send 'em back."
After a few minutes I could hear the girls high pitched laughter. Then the room was filled with cops going off duty and cops coming on. Really loud laughter, now, male and female. Soon the Sergeant and two off-duty cops in civies came strolling by the duty desk. The girls smiled and Barbie blew me a kiss. The sergeant turned, and winked as they left the building.
The next evening, before his shift started, the Sergeant came up to me. "Appreciate that deal last night," he said. "You done good, real good."
"I'm just glad you were able to get those girls straightened out," I said.,"didn't have to put 'em in jail."
The Sergeant looked at me a few seconds, then roared with laughter. "You've got a helluva sense of humor, kid," he said.
After a few months, when I'd seen how the real world worked, I realized just what he'd thought was so damn funny.
My first encounter with ho’s while on the job happened when I was a rank rookie in 1963. The newest cop, I hadn't even been to the academy yet and was acting as Duty Officer/Dispatcher. About 11 p.m. two lovely young ladies, in revealing dresses and showgirl makeup, sashayed up to my desk.
“Help you?” I asked.
One was Barbie blond, the other had long, dark hair like Cher. Barbie answered. “We just wanted to let you know what a lame-ass town you live in—if you don’t know already.”
“It ain’t New Orleans,” I said.
“Tell me about it,” Cher said, “and we just wasted an evening's wages findin’ that out.”
“How's that?”
“Case ya didn't know, we’re workin’ girls from Miami. We read about the Pet Milk convention over at the Beach Club and decided, havin’ heard so much about Naples, to come over and have a nice little vacation and turn a few tricks."
I'm sure my eyes lit up at this blatant admission.
"Didn't work out that way. We lost our ass. If one of those old codgers had ever had a bone, some dog had carried it off and buried it.”
“Yeah,” said a pouting Barbie, “We could've gotten more action with a bowl of wet noodles.”
I laughed.
"So, we already have our room rented for the night, and we decided to drop by to see if maybe we could perform some public service. Unless the cops over here are all relics, too. Prices slashed. . . and maybe. . . if you show us a good time. . ."
Being a rookie, I was stunned. Having served a hitch in the Marines, I was conversant with the concept of prostitution. And I knew that in big cities the cops had special arrangements with hookers. Maybe Miami was like that and that's why the girls were so open about their proposition. But it was supposed to be illegal and I probably should be doing something about it.
I said “Excuse me a minute," and went to the back room to consult with the Sergeant who was in the office preparing for shift change at eleven. I told him about what was going on and that I wasn't sure how to proceed. He peeked around the door frame, to check out the two ladies, and said. "These vice things are tricky. Better let me handle it. Send 'em back."
After a few minutes I could hear the girls high pitched laughter. Then the room was filled with cops going off duty and cops coming on. Really loud laughter, now, male and female. Soon the Sergeant and two off-duty cops in civies came strolling by the duty desk. The girls smiled and Barbie blew me a kiss. The sergeant turned, and winked as they left the building.
The next evening, before his shift started, the Sergeant came up to me. "Appreciate that deal last night," he said. "You done good, real good."
"I'm just glad you were able to get those girls straightened out," I said.,"didn't have to put 'em in jail."
The Sergeant looked at me a few seconds, then roared with laughter. "You've got a helluva sense of humor, kid," he said.
After a few months, when I'd seen how the real world worked, I realized just what he'd thought was so damn funny.
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