Once upon a time, like fifteen years ago, give or take, there was a very hot bartender working at one of the many bars in Gringo Gulch in San Jose. When I first arrived on the ‘scene,’ I admit to being rather smitten with her, for no other reason than how she looked. I was not the only one, by a long shot. I give myself credit for realizing that this sexy lady paid me no special attention, and despite my early attempts to flirt, gave no sign that she was interested in anything more than how much I would tip her. That was fair enough. That was her job.
Time passed, as it always does, and I learned that she was available for ‘company’ at the right price, assuming it was done discreetly. By then, my initial lust for her was mostly gone, and as mongers love to kiss and tell, I heard various evaluations of her performance. Mediocre was about the best she rated, among her clients. Great body, great face, uninspiring in the sack. I saw her not too long ago, and she had lost a bit of her looks to age. She is lucky not to lost her figure over the years. Other girls are not so lucky. She can still earn a decent amount, though less than before, but the direction of her ‘career’ is obvious.
One rather famous ‘massage girl’ was my neighbor for a while, and the person I ran into in the hallways definitely resembled the hotty that used to be famous for her great service, but unfortunately for her, time had revealed her tendency to gain weight. By Tico standards she was still sexy, but not a lot of gringos would rate her above a six at this point in her career. She had found a boyfriend when I last saw her, which is a move that aging courtesans often make when they see the writing on the wall. Others, for better or worse, don’t see the writing, or don’t want to see it.
As they age and lose appeal, many are lucky enough to have caring offspring who will take care of the, or at least give them a place to live. Some aren’t so lucky. But somehow they manage to survive into old age. I say bless them.