Thursday, February 23, 2012
Rugs Is No Life For A Woman
As the new guy in charge of the Organization's "massage parlors," "modeling agencies," and "escort services" (prostitution), one of my ongoing interests will be procuring new girls. Just stepping in, I'm thankful to learn of one time-tested method we're using all the time.
Coincidentally, it ties in with the fly-by-night carpet store business I was just recently part of. So I have experience in that too! They've found that one very effective way to lure, entice, or convince a woman into prostitution is to appeal to her domestic side. Then we make a quick shift in that presentation that calls into question the emptiness and vanity of that life. Here's the way it goes, as I understand it:
For the ruse, we have a storefront, which appears to be an actual store, where is set up all kinds of household wares. It's quite a display, everything the lady of the house might want, a real paradise to behold. There's couches, TV trays, lamps, curtains, and so forth. Somehow we get the candidate into the store, and maybe she's given some spending money -- I'm not sure how that works.
Then -- and here's where the switch comes in -- there's the greatest inducement toward domesticity followed by a quick shift away from it. She's looking at flooring, linoleum, hardwood, and more importantly, carpeting and rugs. Let's just jump to the carpet and rugs. She's immediately seduced by the gorgeous patterns -- symmetrical lines, ornate blossoms of flowers, etc. -- and it is indeed amazing the many patterns carpet makers have come up with. Just like they were on LSD... So she's driven toward domesticity.
Now, in this whole ruse, think of the vast experience the underworld has in the carpet trade. It's one of our biggest moneymakers, selling sub-par, shoddy carpet in fly-by-night stores. Carpet is that one consumer product that might be good and it might be bad. Just looking at it doesn't tell you much. It's not like a tire that you can kick and immediately know if it will keep your family safe. The only way to judge carpet is to run your hand across it and see if the tufts come off with the touch. And that's not as easy as it sounds. A good carpet dealer, that is, a good underworld carpet dealer, distracts the buyer with lifetime warranties and the benefits of various cleaning products, so much so that they never actually touch the carpet.
Be that as it may, then, let's say we've got the woman, now a domestic princess, in our fake store. There's a few hardened, deceitful prostitutes walking around in normal clothing, pretend shopping, to lure her into a sense of security. Then we start putting the psychological screws to her. It turns out this or that item doesn't bring satisfaction. It costs money, big money to keep up the house. There's always something else you need, something else that costs big money. Finally, you throw up your hands and say, What's the use?
We've passed through the kitchen area, the appliance area, the bathroom area, etc., and we come to the carpet and rug department. Oh, this is sly! We show the incredible variety of rugs and carpets, how perfect they are. All that just before we bring out a piece of shoddy carpet. "Just run your hand over this masterpiece!" And as she does so, it comes apart in her hand! The "salesman" goes ballistic. "This is my job, to offer only the finest carpet, and someone has fallen down on the job!" The woman is disappointed, and the salesman's disappointment increases both her disappointment and anxiety exponentially.
He's sobbing, she consoles him, they embrace, they make mad love on a roll of fraying, falling apart, flaking away carpet. She suddenly sees the ultimate vanity of trying to be a domestic goddess, that the whole thing is a sham you can never trust. But the sex act, which she just experienced, that's something that endures! He leads her on. This perfection, this beautiful joining together of man and woman -- with all his fetishes -- can be hers. He knows a guy, a friend of a friend, who can set her up, etc., to experience it ... forever!
The other women shoppers -- the disguised prostitutes in on the ruse -- come over and appear to be falling in line with her decision. "You have shown us the way!" is their attitude. They all fall into a giant orgy, and next thing you know, she's set up with a room at the hotel, and an endless parade of visitors. She's well away from the disappointing world of housekeeping, the men of town are out of the house and away from their nagging wives, and we, the Organization, have a brand new source of income.