Red Light Signal on Hilcroft

Did you hear what Russel Crow said on Letterman last night? Sounding very apologetic he explain he had to call his wife. At first I thought this was sweet After all, I have fantasies of Bobby beating up a bellhop just because he misses my voice. Isn’t that the act of true love? Then I thought about it, Crow went on to say it was his duty to call his wife every single night to tell her he was sober and alone, I’m guessing this is opposed to drunken and with someone? Now there’s a marriage.

This got me thinking. Bobby, from now on I need you to call me at 6:37 in the mornings so I’ll know you’re alone and weren’t seduced by the Hilcroft Hookers.

I offend myself by laughing but this is true! Not Bobby being tempted but yes Virginia, there are hookers hanging out at my husband’s work exit in the mornings. The truly scary part is for some bizarre reason I’m thoroughly fascinated by this. Is this really the root of Houston’s traffic problem. Should wives worry when husbands say “No thanks honey, I’ll pick up breakfast on the way to work.”

Bobby raised an eyebrow as I interrogated him. Not because I was checking his collar or any other body parts for lipstick, but because I seemed a bit too curious asking hundreds of questions. How many are there? Do a lot of cars pull over? Wonder what they’re getting? Do you know? Bobby screamed no and looked at me like I had finally gone mad. He wasn’t worried I was accusing him, just the opposite. Ya know after nine years of being unemployed… Just a passing thought, gee put the chastity belt away…

In my mind prostitutes are hot. Like the surreal experience in Amsterdam. Like everyone, I’ve seen films of hot babes in windows winking to possible johns, and even a few Jills. Yet nothing prepares you for the real thing. Being in Amsterdam, being 20 feet from sex windows… Very strange. Yes I was in Amsterdam. Does that shock you? I was once young, cool, and hip…

My friend would say yes, you were once young, cool, and hip… You just didn’t take those qualities on our trip to Europe… I figure in another 5 years, we’ll be able to laugh about it. I still get eye twitches when we pass a grey hound bus.

But anyways… This is the romantic “beautiful window very sensual” image I had when Bobby first told me about the new scenery on his daily drive to work. He seemed to be afraid to tell me these women of the mornings weren’t “all that.” “They’re sorta… ugly.” He admitted… I smiled, relieved. Now that I think about it, Bobby likes ugly… hmm…

Doesn’t it make you kinda wonder? Bobby says they are out there every morning so they must be “popular”. Prostitution is legal in several countries, I think even in Nevada, as Bobby must point out every time we are in Vegas.


About once a month the police chase away the Hilcroft Hookers and for about a week Bobby has no scenery to amuse himself on the drive to work. Poor guy. But like weeds, they return. Do I like prostitution. Not really. But it’s not one of my hot buttons. To each his own and I’m more worried about Bobby forgetting to buy milk on the way home then anything else.

It would seem to me that if prostitution was legalized, and ran like a business maybe it would put a dent in the aids epidemic. It would give the police more time to focus on missing children and unsolved murders. Let the Lorraine Bobbit’s of the world take care of wandering spouses.

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