Tell me if this has happened to you: You’re having sex with a prostitute and it occurs to you that she doesn’t love you.

Maybe it was the way she was moaning, or the fact that she wasn’t – maybe it was the disinterested look on her face as she filed her nails during your lovemaking . . . It doesn’t matter.  Now you feel cheap and used.  Vacant.  Alone.  Now you’ve paid her and she didn’t even enjoy having sex with you.

Well, fear not – I’m going to give you a little tip that will help you get the most for your Entertainment Dollar.  It’s called “The Girlfriend Experience“.

So you’re cruising Craigslist, looking for employment and maybe a microwave, and (somehow) you stumble upon an ad promising a full GFE for only 200 Roses.  This happens to me all the time.

You think, “Wow, what a spectacular deal!  I don’t even know what a GFE is, but I want one!”  and you run down to the Florist, cash in hand.

No.

First things first, GFE is “hooker-code” for “Girlfriend Experience”.  There are others as well: PSE – Porn Star Experience, CBJ – Covered Blow Job, BBBJ – BareBack Blow Job and so on.

These are default Craigslist/Want-Ad/Escort Hooker protocols that allow the girls (or guys) to identify the services they offer.  Like any a la carte service, most of these mean you’re about to pay more.  Chances are, you’re about to pay a lot more, and since you’re dealing with prostitutes you have to wonder just what kind of value-added services you get for your money.

Money can’t buy love, but apprently it can rent a reasonable approximation.

A “Girlfriend Experience” sounds intriguing at first.  It sounds . . . nice.  So you climb into your Dodge Colt and head on over to the local Motor Lodge with stars in your eyes.  You’re thinking this will be a lunch break night to remember.  This girl will sweep you off your feet, gently caressing you and telling you all the things she loves about you.

Reality sets in when the door opens.  She’s 20 lbs heavier than the grainy photo she e-mailed you, which was probably taken when strip clubs would still hire her.  She says she’s 23, she’s probably 31 and she looks like 47.  A decade or so of chain-smoking Pall Malls and cock have left her voice sounding like Tom Waits at a Drive-Through.

Of course, you were hammering malt liquor in the car on the way there.  Alcohol induced disinhibition kicks in and your assessment of her “street value” is interrupted by the nipples protruding through a tattered . . . something . . . and the blue-balls you worked up thinking about your “special moment”.

“Fuck it,” you think.

She coos at you and beckons you into the room.  The negotiation is handled quickly when you tell her you want the “Full Girlfriend Experience” and she smiles.  You fork over your rent-money and she moves a carton of cigarettes off a chair before pushing you down into it.

You are turgid with anticipation as she unfastens the knot on your windpants and . . . produces a condom.

You stop her, saying that you were hoping for a little oral before the main show.  She knows that – that’s why she’s putting a rubber on you.

“But . . . it’s a blowjob,” you say.  ”With a condom.”

“Bareback is extra, honey . . . ”

Of course, they taught Absintence in your high-school so you’re not thinking about the sore on the inside of her lip (that you can’t see) when you fork over your grocery money.  She stubs out her cigarette and gives you the first case of Herpes you’ve ever had.

And it’s only down hill from there.

Her moans are faked.  It’s no less obvious that she isn’t into fucking you than if she weren’t moaning at all.  The only difference, you realize, is the extra you paid for that moaning.  Maybe it’s not even the moaning . . . maybe it’s because you can’t “un-think” the fact that she is a prostitute!

It’s called “multiple realizability” and it has nothing to do with orgasms.

Multiple realizability means that you can build a car a million different ways and it will still perform the same basic function as any other car.  The same thing goes for calculators, computers and most of the other shit you use every day.

Unfortunately, when it comes to “The Girlfriend Experience”, there are some things you can’t pay a hooker to fake.

(Go to Part II . . . )