Tuesday, May 24, 2005

When a client has a particular interest, and especially if that interest will be central to our date I try to learn something about it. That is why I’ve been boning up on Formula One motor racing. Of course as is my wont, I was distracted and began reading about women in motor racing. Not just contemporary drives like Danica Patrick, who is disappointed to qualify only fourth at Indianapolis, but drivers from early in the sports history such as Eliska Junkova and Kay Petrie or Hellé Nice who left the Paris demimonde (a future career for me?) to drive for Bugatti and Alfa Romeo. Anyway I got to Monaco knowing almost nothing about Formula One.

This was my first trip to Monaco and I’ll go back. My impressions”

OH MY GOD the cars are loud!

Race drivers are normal size. My image of male athletes are tall/and or bulky, but the drivers are almost small. I bet their average height is 170cm and weight is 70Kg.

I'm convinced that there are no unattractive women in Monaco, from the grid girls, to the girl friends to the arm candy and other hangers on, lovely.

My client’s company is a minor sponsor so much of our time at the track involved that. It got us real close to everything, though we saw most of the race on TV. My client is kind of obsessive and he had his assistant send me an event schedule that included suggested dress. If I had followed the suggestions I would have changed 3 times of Friday evening alone, so I settled on little black dress (thank you Coco for having that inspiration) for the evening.

Early Friday evening I was dressed and ready to leave for a reception, I returned some email as I waited for him to finish a conference call. While doing so I looked up and caught my image in a mirror. I realized that I felt pretty and then felt a bit disappointed that I was wasting my prettiness on a client.

Friday night ended at a party on a yacht. I’m not sure how large the boat was but I’m guessing there were one hundred people at the party. On the dock next to the gangplank was a pile of women’s shoes, as I added mine to the pile I hoped that my small feet would mean no one else would go home wearing my Jimmy’s. The party was interesting.

At events like these I have an opportunity to observe a lot. My client is usually otherwise occupied and not in need of my attentions so I can wander around, people watch and engage others in conversations. I spotted the prettiest young girl; barely eighteen, speaking to a fellow who I’m guessing was early thirties. She was dressed nicely, but definitely HM or similar, it’s funny how I can pick that out now.


I found her alone for a moment and struck up a conversation. Up close I was convinced she couldn’t be sixteen, so I asked how she got to this party. She spoke a little English and she told me she was from the Ukraine and that her cousin worked at one of the hotels. She was staying with the cousin and was looking for work. Though she hoped to be a model. She was pretty enough for that to be a legitimate consideration. She had come to have lunch with her cousin during the cousin’s break and a woman struck up a conversation with her and suggested that the girl come to this party. I asked if her cousin was invited, she wasn’t.

She kept glancing away and so I let my eyes follow hers, which led to the fellow I saw her with. “Did you meet him here?” I inquired. She nodded and said that he told her he could help her find work. “Or he just wants to fuck you.” I answered. The look on her face told me that she knew that was true.

I didn’t say it but my thought was that his job was one of the ‘young model’ websites, a doubtful route to a fashion-modeling career and then? Hopefully not one of the brothels or escort services run by organized crime. The thought makes me cringe.

Maybe it was because she reminded me of Elyse and I thought of E’s tales of how difficult it was to navigate the bull shit and come out only a little used, so I suggested that she ignore that guy and anyone else who offered to help her find work. A short while later I noticed her leave alone. Maybe she is smart and has good instincts, at least then she’ll have a chance.

My date was to go into Monday, but on Sunday morning he told me that he would need to leave after the race and that I was welcome to stay over as the suite was paid for. I did and on Sunday afternoon I walked around watching as the teams and vendors packed up and left. I found a bistro for dinner and turned in early. Monday morning I read the paper by the pool while having breakfast. I waited until the last possible checkout as I was enjoying my luxurious solitude.

Kim

9 Comments:

Blogger NCTRNL said...

I don't know why I find it so odd that something as prestigious as the Monaco Grand Prix would have illegal underage girls brought in for sex. I guess I am just naive...

4:35 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Kim nice to see you guiding the youngers!!!

7:24 PM  
Blogger Garrison Steelle said...

Sounds quite typical of the whole racing environment, regardless of the style. The clothes and the accents may change, but the intentions too often stay the same.

Hope you were able to have a good time.

-G

10:24 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

It's a huge problem, and anyone's guess just how lucurative too. But surprisingly, human trafficking is said to out distance drugs for profitability for the gangs & thugs.
They've got many 'gleaners' too.

VJ

8:38 AM  
Blogger Kim said...

NCTNL, this was a private party and the race was the excuse for the party. I doubt the host was aware of what I suspect may have been happening.

I may be too suspicious, perhaps the original invite was only to make sure that there was another lovely to look at. Maybe the guy was just looking to get laid and the job help was a line. Who knows? VJ points out the very real problem of trafficking in women if you need more info on that see the Int'l Justice Mission link on the side bar

Kim

1:20 PM  
Blogger NCTRNL said...

Just so you know Kim, the link on the side to the International Justice Mission is wrong. You have it set as IMJ.com and it is IJM.com.

3:54 PM  
Blogger Kim said...

Thanks, it's fixed now.
K

4:00 PM  
Blogger Pete from Cal said...

Thanks for sharing your Monaco experience! You didn't waste your prettieness on a client because you shared it with us. :) Glad you saved the young girl from that vulture. I'm sure he would say anything to get her in bed. Wish her luck on her journey to become a model.

8:48 PM  
Blogger Thaϊs said...

She probably wouldn't mind ending up as an escort, as long as she gets to keep her freedom of choice.
Upscale escorting for Western clientele is very much glamorized in the former Soviet Union.
I statistically doubt her chances of becoming a model: there are too many young, beautiful and desperate women from Eastern Europe, but then she just may be an exception. However, I dare say that she would be prepared to share many beds to get her way, so there is little room for saving here. I just hope she is smart enough to distinguish between men who are worth her time and those who aren't. Such a mindset is a frequent result of growing up in a very sexualized and patriarchal country.

Every time I hear another story about a girl who wishes to be a model, or marries abroad, I cannot believe how lucky I am to have my independence and university education...

12:15 PM  

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