I think about becoming a prostitute often. Probably more often than most. It seems like such a small step away from what I'm already doing. What exactly am I selling now? A sexual experience? A unrequited hard-on? A waste of money... When I think about it logically, it makes sense. I could make in one hour what I make in a night, or more. And it's all about the money, right?

I just can't do it. Not yet. I'm not good enough at sex. Clients would complain, I wouldn't have regulars, I'd be the laughing stock of the whore neighborhood. We'll see how I feel in a few months.

On another note, work was not the money saturated wonderland I was hoping it to be on Thanksgiving. I mean, you'd think Thanksgiving would be great. Few girls, lots of lonely or annoyed-by-the-family men...money all over the place. Nope. There weren't many girls, maybe 20 by the end of the night. There weren't many customers either. Mostly couples, who while generous, aren't really great for VIPs. Needless to say, I did manage to break the $500 mark without VIPs so I wasn't too bummed.

I'm getting better about money. There was a point a few months ago where I'd cop an attitude if I made less than $500. Walked out with $400 in a bad mood. I guess I've mysteriously gained some perspective because I'm feeling a lot more thankful for the money I do make these days, even if it's only $400. Maybe it's the Thanksgiving spirit in me.