Thursday, May 15, 2014

The Cannes Film Festival opened yesterday. There is an often repeated bromide that Cannes is for French prostitutes what Christmas is for retailers. Maybe.

My last trip to Cannes during the festival, was with a gentleman who had several days of meetings prior to the start of the event. My days were mostly free, allowing me time to shop and lay in the sun, my evening was as arm candy, meant to be seen and not heard with my nights…use your imagination.

Our last evening together coincided with the opening of the festival and that evening we attended one of the many parties that are held. During the evening I made the acquaintance of a woman who told me she was the hostess for one of the yachts. This piqued my curiosity, I was familiar with the reputation of the yachts as dens of iniquity and in the world of bottle bars in NY and London, the "hostess" finds attractive women to populate the tables of the high rollers. A hint or two elicited an invitation for the next day.

After bidding my gentleman goodbye, I found a hotel room off the beaten path to stash my stuff and give me a place to crash. I'd been instructed to be at the boat by noon and boarded nearly to the minute carrying a small overnight bag. Shortly thereafter the boat was underway and I was arrayed on the deck with my bikini in a ball next to me. Two guys engaged me and another girl… During the day and evening the deck shuffled and a new partner appeared and in the morning I left with a thick envelope.



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