From yesterday's Pravda, sorry, GDN:
"NINETEEN people have been arrested in connection with the running of an alleged prostitution den in a Manama hotel.
It is the fifth establishment to have been shut down since the beginning of the year because of vice-related activities, Chief Public Prosecutor Ahmed Bucheeri said yesterday.
Sources tipped off the police that the hotel's Asian investor was running the den and hiring prostitutes to work for him.
After investigating the case, an arrest warrant was issued and police detained the 19 men and women during a raid, said Mr Bucheeri.
"The prostitutes confessed during questioning by the prosecution and claimed that they were charging BD5 to BD10 from their clients, who were directed to them by the hotel investor," he said."
What I want to know is: where the hell can you find girls for BD5 to BD10? Answers on a postcard....
This entire situation is politically quite interesting, because it's essentially the elected parliament on one side, and the actual owners of the hotels, many of whom are, ahem, "VIPs", on the other. It appears to go deeper than just religious busybodies sticking their noses into other people's business (not literally, hoho, although judging by the hypocrisy of some of these guys you never know - remember the MPs detour to Bangkok a couple of years ago? I think they were engaging in ping-pong diplomacy!) - I think it's also about the parliament trying to muscle in on the territory of the traditional establishment elite. Wonder how it'll turn out.
On an unrelated note, had another shocker with an Ethiopian a few weeks back. I spotted the buxom hottentot walking alone in Hoora one night, and like the chivalrous Lancelot that I am, offered her a lift to the hotel where she worked. She asked me to come in but I declined, exchanged numbers, and she called me the following day from work, asking me to come see her. I asked what time she finished (2am) and offered to meet her outside, so as not to have to spend several hours buying overpriced drinks for half of the Addis Ababa diaspora.
I expected her to insist that I came inside (to buy said drinks), but surprisingly she accepted; when the hour approached, I was dismayed to see she had three friends with her (all of them fat and ugly to boot), and, judging by previous African experience, reckoned I was to be used as a free taxi service, after which she would be "staying with her friend". But no, all three of them were dropped at their hovels, leaving only the two of us in the car. Flirtacious banter and leg-rubbing followed, after which she accepted an invitation up to my flat. Esconsed cosily together on my sofa, I started making a move to unwrap those four delightful orbs of bouncing black booty- and titty-flesh........when suddenly, she hit me with the sob story.
Apparently, she had lost her job, or never had one, or some such horse manure (I switched off after the first splurges of verbal diarrhoea), and would be thrown out of her flat and rendered homeless THE VERY NEXT MORNING unless she could come up with BD150 for her rapacious scrooge of a landlord. The fact that she had been living there for over a year and had never previously been late, and that she now had another job (I gently reminded her that I had, in fact, driven her to it the previous night, hence her protestations of unemployment rang somewhat hollow) made no difference - I was all that stood between her and life in a wheely bin. Sad to say, it was Wurzel Gummidge time, as, upon learning of my cruel refusal to furnish her with requested pecuniary assets, I noticed a marked shift in her attitude, which was swiftly followed by a marked shift in her position, from sitting on my sofa to standing in the street. As ever, there is a silver lining to the story: I happened to pass by her apartment block a while later, and noticed her entering, with a key. So she wasn't homeless after all - how that sight warmed the cockles of my heart!
Seriously, stay away from those lying bitches. Given the well-documented difficulties and dangers with pros at the moment, you can find freebies with cute Filipinas with a bit of work. I don't know if it's a deliberate policy of Lulu Hypermarket in Dana Mall to hire good-looking ones, but the ratio there isn't half bad. On a quiet day I got talking to my pretty little check-out girl, managed to get her digits, and good times followed. You can also check out (ahem) the 24 hour stores in Hoora around 2.30am, when the girls are coming home from their shifts in hotels. On two separate occasions, some flirty banter followed by an offer to pay for the ladies' purchases won me phone numbers, invitations chez Chris, and carnal knowledge. Only trouble is, you have to cut them loose after about ten sessions because they want to marry you!
