Pagan Moss' Peep Show Stories

Saturday, May 31, 2003





Taxi Driver

Last Thursday night, I had an interesting experience with a cab driver. I always take a cab home when I work in the evenings. I get off work at around 2:00 a.m. in the morning and even though my apartment is within walking distance, I don't feel like walking home looking like a hooker. I normally don't wear that much makeup during my off days, but I do it up pretty good when I'm there. I also where a long blonde wig . . definitely not my style. I prefer darker women myself. Unfortunately, there is a real stereotype in the sex industry and women who are blonde do better. I hate it . . . I tried to deny it . . . but it's true. I'm not sure if blondes have more fun, but they make more money in the sex industry.

I used to have black hair, which I really loved. I didn't do as good as the other girls though. The customers always went to the blonde working. I decided to get a blonde wig to see what would happen. I was hoping to prove my blonde theory was wrong and that guys didn't care. Unfortunately, the first day I tried it out, I did great. There were guys getting shows with me that didn't give me a second look before. I really noticed this with Asian men. They never gave me a second look with my black hair, but as soon as I was blonde, they were paying attention to me all right. I was so mad . . . I wanted to throw away the wig. I felt like I was selling out. Maybe I am, but I need the extra money to go on to bigger and better things . . so guess I will just suck it up a little.

Anyways . . . I got off track a little. Sorry about that.

It was somewhere between 1:00 - 2:00 a.m. and I called for a cab. The cab pulled up to the curb and I jumped in.

I always enjoy talking to the cab drivers. Most of the cab drivers that I have come into contact with are from either South Africa or are from the Middle East. I often talk to them about politics, which must surprise them a little (me being a stripper and all). Many of the cab drivers are also Muslim. I can tell they are a little uncomfortable with my profession, but they are always polite and do not give me a bad time about it.

However, this cab driver was different. He seemed nice enough at the beginning, but then the questions started. He wanted to know what kind of place I worked at. It seemed like an innocent question. Some cab drivers are sincere in their questions and I thought this was the case so I gave him the run down on how things worked there.

He then asked me how much money I made. I told him a number that was close to what I made, but not the real amount. He seemed surprised and told me that he only made $75.00 for working 14 hours. I told him that was horrible . . . that he should be making more money for how hard he works.

He then went on to tell me that at least the money he made was clean. He told me that he wasn't trying to hurt my feelings when he said that, but that I seemed like a smart girl and should find other work. I told him that I was a smart girl and that I tried the 9 - 5 corporate gig, but it just didn't work for me. I'm not going to be a corporate whore, working 40+ hours a week and have nothing left in me when I get home. Making someone else rich, while I put my dreams aside, just doesn't make sense to me. I explained that I was a creative person and wanted to go back to school to study film, and this job allowed me to make a good living and to have the time to go back to school. He didn't understand and I didn't care. It wasn't my job to make him.

He went on to tell me that he was from Jerusalem and was Muslim. He told me that if I was in his country and was doing what I am now . . . I would be dead. He said women in America are crazy.

We finally arrived at my apartment and I was ready to jump out the door. He pulled the car over and turned to look at me. He started talking about God and how I needed to find him. I told him I didn't believe in God . . . I mean the Christian or Muslim God, et al. I handed him the cab fare and started to open the door. He told me he thought I was really nice and a good person and that he hoped I wasn't mad at him. He said he would pray for me. I told him that was o.k.. I would be just fine and closed the door behind me .





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A Seattle peep-show girl shares stories of her customers and adventures stemming from her bare-it-all behavior.

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