After living in Los Angeles for fifteen years and in Las Vegas for three, from my own observations and listening to the experiences of others, I have concluded that a good majority of attractive women are not the ‘mojo rising’ that Jim Morrison wrote about back in the 60’s but they have become more like ‘mojo teasing’. The new generation has grown up with Beyoncé’s culture of “pay my bill, pay my bill” and any woman under the age of 35 expects her suitors to either be handsome, or to contribute to her living expenses. Failing this, a man’s presence in her life is obsolete. More often than not, the women prevail, because men outnumber women in Los Angeles by eight to two. In some cities in California like San Jose, the ratio is so high that the city’s nickname is ‘Man Jose’.
Websites that auction dates have their membership flying through the roof. Young women place photographs of themselves and men bid for their company for dinner only. Some girls get paid up to $700 just for a dinner. This is a new sharing culture, people turns their car into an instant cab by switch an app, and their apartment into a hotel room; why not sell your company for a dinner and get paid for it. We have reached the age where we prostitute our cars, our abodes and our companionship to perfect strangers, in exchange for money. Hence, there go the cab drivers, hotels, and brothels. Look around! They are now all over.
I have, on several first dates with girls that I have met in random places such as an art gallery, party, or at the gym, been asked to contribute anything from $3,000 to $8,000 a month to their expenses, including such items as hair, nails, car, rent, shopping, gym, etc, or else, they would have no interest for having a relationship. No money, no honey it’s a not a say, it’s the new rule and if you live in CA, you can totally get away with it. One night I took a girl out on a date, and she looked at my car (then) and told me,
“You are the first guy I’ve dated who drives a Boxster. Usually guys who drive a Porsche have a Carrera or a 911.”
I chuckled, got her door, and thought of how a $60,000 car could have such a low impact, just because the Boxster is the least expensive model in the Porsche sports car series, and thought to myself, “No wonder Caesar said ‘I’d rather to be first in the village than second in Rome.’” But then doesn’t the fact that I have a stylish, convertible sports car suffice?
That wasn’t an isolated incident. Two years earlier in 2006, another date in the same car asked me if my Porsche was a turbo. I knew the car wasn’t a turbo and to dodge her question, I replied, “I don’t know.” To my astonishment, she replied, “It’s simple! If your brakes are red, it’s turbo, if they’re gray it’s not. Are they red or gray?”
A week later I went see my salesman buddy at the dealership and told him the story. He laughed and said, “She asked you that because she knew the turbo car is worth $15K more.”
Two years after the ‘red brake’ date, by pure accident, for the first time in my life I met two girls from Stuttgart (the city where Porsche is made). I asked them,
“Do you guys think you know more about a Porsche than an LA girl?”
Both girls laughed and said,
“Of course we do, we were born and raised in Stuttgart!”
When I asked them the difference between the red versus gray brakes, they looked at each other in puzzlement and they were clearly clueless. In fact, they said they had never even paid attention to that. After I explained the turbo and the price difference to them, they were shocked, and said,
“What difference does it make? It’s a Porsche.” For us, when we see a guy driving a Porsche, it’s a sign of success and financial stability. We don’t get into the horsepower, synthetic versus leather and the stupid details of brake color or how much his car is worth. This may be a thing with American women, but not with German women.”
Those German girls were right. All that matters is to own a decent car, irrespective of whether it’s a turbo or not. When I met a Japanese girl while driving the same car, she was thrilled and said that was the first time in her life that she had sat in a convertible car and she had no idea what a Porsche is.
Often a date in California or Nevada, two states that I have first-hand experience of, is similar to a loan interview. The first question is not, ‘How do you do?’ but ‘What do you do?’ This, often before they even ask your name. ‘Do you own your own company? How many staff work for you? Do you own or rent? What year and model is your car?” They ask these questions because they can. They have the upper hand.
I once invited an English girl for dinner and she blew her cover when I asked her, “Why are you eating like a bird?” She replied, “I have to keep my appetite.” She stopped abruptly, but it was too late, she had admitted that she double-booked and that she had a second dinner date at 10 pm. She said, “I don’t know what’s happening in LA. There are so many men asking me out just about everywhere. In the UK I could barely a get date in months, and in LA I feel like I’m Miss World!” These highly sought-after ladies can double-book dates, and can impose a policy of ‘it’s my way or the highway’, because it’s a matter of supply and demand, and most of the time, the only way for a man to have female companionship in California is to accept unconditional surrender.
Those men, who are unattractive, or cannot afford or won’t pay the requirement, are destined to remain single for years and maybe even decades. Some even travel overseas or use the internet to find a foreign girl, and offer her citizenship in exchange for company. Since the US immigration laws require three years of continuous marriage with the possibility of a random audit and bedroom raids at dawn to make sure the marriage is consummated, those men are sure that they have a warm bed for at least three solid years.
After what I learned from the LA and Vegas situation, the cities have two points in common; lots of rich men and illegal prostitution. This has become like prohibition in the 1920’s and 30’s. The loser was the government, missing out on the liquor tax, and the winner was Al Capone and the bootleggers who had the monopoly, tax-free.
This monopoly is however, a door that swings both ways. The negative impact for the women is what I saw when I lived in a high-rise condo in Beverly Hills. On each floor there were two to five single women in their mid 40s to late 60s, growing old alone. They had been extremely picky and demanding. They thought that they got what they wanted, as they all owned their half-million dollar condos, paid for by a former lover, but they were single for life and it had become their turn to find a toy boy and pay for it.
Of course we cannot assume that legal prostitution will change the culture, but it certainly makes the men feel less desperate and cornered. One can argue that women are not just about sex, its also relationships, but how can a relationship start when these materialistic demands are put on the table as preconditions? They downgrade themselves from future wife material to a sugar baby, by price-tagging themselves. Any well-brought-up man knows that he must take care of his woman and be a gentleman, but when these conditions become mandatory and the old American saying of “no money no honey” becomes their motto, it is as repulsive to a man as it is for a woman to see a man who acts like a horny dog.
In a healthy society, legal prostitution is indispensible to promote organic relationships, as prostitutes act like bees that pollinate the flowers. They help couples’ relationships develop by detoxing the men and boosting their confidence, so that when they go on a date they wont be lustful, desperate and ready to submit to any conditions. As for the women, they will live a safer life.
Prostitutes play a pivotal role in reducing crimes caused by sexual frustration, like domestic abuse and rape. A study conducted in Queensland Australia, showed a 149% increase in rape when legal brothels were closed in 1959. In Mexico, where prostitution has been regulated since 1885, the incidence of rape is 13.2 per 100 000 population, placing it 18th in the world. The US is ranked at number 9 in the world, with 27.3 rapes per 100 000 population, more than double that of Mexico. The US has more than double the police per capita and harsher sentences against sexual assault, but prostitution is illegal. During my research for my book Social Laws, I consulted police officers who told me that legalizing prostitution would help reduce rape and would not increase crime if it is properly regulated. Maybe this is one of the reasons why Pope Gregory VII fabricated the story that Mary Magdalene was a prostitute, to gain sympathy for them. Of course Mary Magdalene was not a prostitute. The key to legalizing prostitution is to regulate it, to prevent an uncontrolled sex market, and to make prostitution safe for both sides. To this end I drafted the bill to legalize prostitution.
The moral of this essay is that any self-respecting woman, who values her independence, must not make herself dependent on any man financially. Often men who are excessively possessive hide their true nature and at an early stage of the relationship may suggest to their girlfriend or fiancé that she quit her job. He will motivate this by telling her that he is financially comfortable and able to handle all expenses and that he will take care of her. Often she will take the bait, not knowing that she is entering a tower that’s door is gradually closing. Only later will she realize that she has walked into a tower, locked herself in and thrown the key out of the window. That’s when her man turns into a dragon, and shows his real self; a control freak, adulterer, possessive, and abusive with a nasty personality. Too late she will realize that she has become the tower’s girl, guarded by a dragon.
There are many towers in Los Angeles where LA women are imprisoned. They may have their collections of haute couture purses and shoes and drive fancy white European cars, but there is not a day that goes by that they don’t beat themselves up, and ask themselves the same question again and again,
“What the devil am I doing with this asshole?”
Often it will be too late and the woman will find herself at a crossroad. Either she learn to like the tower and grow old in that agonizing relationship, or she jumps ship, gets a job and regains her self-respect, independence and liberty and above all, laughs again.
Sadly, most of those L.A. women become slaves to vanity and learn to get used to the tower.