God Bless These Hookers

I saw a hooker on the train.

She entered the cab with her tiddies out and quickly tucked them back in. That's how I noticed her. I'm sure it was a business tactic and it seemed to work--for a time. It worked right up until she began to nod off into what looked like a drug induced trance.

Between moments of consciousness, she counted her crinkled one dollar bills and rolled deordorant on her pits and tummy. She flipped her hair and refreshed whatever little makeup she had and smiled at the men.

At first I judged her. I thought, "where's her parents?" then asked myself, where's mine?

See, there's not much difference between us. She was working as hard as she could, i'm sure. Just like I was. I thought I was better because I sold my tiddies online, but i'm also just a hooker.

Where has my hard work gotten me? I'm a college graduate with an OnlyFans.

I'm sure i'm not the first and I know I won't be the last.

Surprise, my reader! Yes, I do sex work but I also have a Bachelor's degree. Yes, I am Black and educated however, I came from a poor upbringing. I had always believed that working hard would get me somewhere, but now I know, in this society, you are just working hard for someone else.

At my busiest, I worked three jobs. This was after University; one full time and two part time jobs. All this while I ran a blog where I published my writings and a Youtube channel where I wrote, and audio produced audio horror every week.

I know what hard work is. It's getting the report done even though the office lights give you a migraine. It's sitting at your desk for 8 hours in a chair that destroys your back. It's helping all your customers before you start editing your next piece for your own project, hoping that it takes off.

None of this is bad, but none of it truly supported me. I learned something when COVID hit. I know, it seems almost comical that people would turn to OnlyFans as they lost their jobs from a pandemic. I laughed too until it became my reality.

For honesty's sake, I'll let you know that I started off hating it and originally did not want to get into sex work but I didn't have much choice; I was at my rope's end. Plenty of people have had to make hard decisions--it was time for me to make mine.

So, I sucked it up and did it. "Spicy" work has helped me survive and has also taught me humility and humanity.

Sex work gives me control. It's my money. Direct profits to me. Fuck what they say.

You do what it takes to make it, just like that hooker on the train. I am no better. She was drugged out, sure, but once back home, I would hit my bong during the warm evenings--privileged to be high from the safety of my home.

The difference between us may be very thin. She holds her one-dollar bills, I check my venmo. Maybe we're the same. We're both looking for the next opportunity.

And trust me, I don't care about anyone's "disappointment" in me. My pride comes from knowing I did that. Yes, honey, I WORKED it and I survived.

Many might think that working lady was the train wreck, but I think she was just trying. Instead of giving judgment, i've learned understanding. You get yours, girl and I pray for your safety. Yes, God bless these hookers--Jesus would have.