The Happy Hooker: My Own Story

EPILOGUE

I am a twenty-eight-year-old woman. I have traveled a lot and have seen men and women in their states of happiness and sadness, their ups and downs. In my own way, I feel, I have tried to help them – and myself – by adding a little pleasure to their lives. Somehow there is so much misery around us. People alone, lonely, miserable.

A good friend once told me: “Try to find your happiness in your solitude.” And I have tried, but… happy I was not in my solitude.

Okay, lately I have “sinned” by selling my body to men, by trading the bodies of my girls to more men. But it hasn’t been strictly commerce. I have tried to give some happiness to those men, even though they paid for it. I have been honest with them and filled a lost hour of loneliness by giving them a warm smile, a cold drink, soft music in the background, and then a warm and young body to hold, to press, to kiss, to make love to. Is that indeed a sin? The man was satisfied, and for the time he was in my house, at least, he was no longer lonely and miserable. He didn’t have to get drunk somewhere in the corner of a bar. His ego was flattered. So was his masculinity. Honestly, should you refuse this happiness to anybody?

Since I began writing this book, I have accepted the offer of several universities to give lectures on the subject “Myth and Reality of Prostitution.” I am now preparing my lectures and will do my utmost to explain to our young people how to make each other happy and avoid the problems most men have come to me with. I might not be a psychiatrist, but I am convinced that sex is not as important as we tend to make it. First there is that little feeling, that little red flame, called love. Blow on the flame and make it get bigger like a fire, don’t blow it out like a candle.

I have enjoyed controlling the round-the-clock ringing phones, and I’ve enjoyed the excitement of meeting new people, seeing different faces every day. How surprised I was when I realized after “working” several months that most of the men who patronized my house were amazingly young. Not as I had thought originally: old men who cannot find any partner anymore. The average age of my customers was around thirty-five, with many patrons in their early twenties.

But here we go into the psychology of men and why they patronize a house of prostitution; young or old, good-looking or ugly. For some bachelors my house was like a second family. They would come by with friends at any time during the day until the early-morning hours.

For the older man, visiting my house was like a rejuvenation program.

As for myself, I hate loneliness. I love people because I trust them, and in general this whole episode of my life involving running a house with lovely girls has been a pleasure. I hope prostitution will be legalized someday. And if possible, I would like to give some guidelines on becoming a successful madam to girls who have that specific “leadership” feeling.

Personality is what counts most. Looks count as well, and the myth that a madam is usually an old rundown lived-up prostitute who has no alternatives is hopefully now proven not to be true. I believe I have been one of the youngest, most active, and most successful madams in New York.

Maybe this is something I never should tell my children, if I ever will have them – and I hope to have them – but at this stage I would like to say that I am proud of the empire I have had. I am sorry the exciting moments of making people happy may be over, thanks to outmoded laws and dishonest maneuvers, but I guess there will always be new opportunities for an ambitious, active Dutch girl to be happy and give pleasure to others. If only this book has opened people’s eyes about the life of “working girls” and the madam supervising them, I will be grateful.