Charlie Productions : How To Be A Gigolo

"You are, if not God's Gift to Woman then at least Woman's Reasonably Expensive Gift To Herself "

If you've spent any serious amount of time in the company of men and the subject of sleeping with women for money comes into the conversation, the usual reaction is that this, like being the star of a blue movie, is one hell of a plum job. Sleeping with women is the fundamental goal of most men's days and the idea of getting paid for doing so seems almost rude.

It's like being a critic and getting paid for doing the stuff you'd be doing anyway, like watching films. In fact if there is a better job than being a gigolo, I would presume it would be that of "Woman critic" for some magazine. Not only do you get paid but you get to be a little bit famous and probably have your photograph at the top of your column (no pun intended). Also, if there's one thing that a man enjoys more than sex it's drawing up a list and preferably a ranked list or better still a full blown chart with scores and percentages.

Better still, if you could secure this position (again no pun) in a top magazine then the doors would soon open for a wider public role. Starting with brief guest appearances as "woman critic and sexual expert" on a television phone-in with Richard and Judy which would then doubtlessly turn into a regular feature until the onset of STD's and impotence forced you to look to pastures new like becoming the host of "Ready, Steady, Cock" a fun afternoon game show where celebrity whores have to bring a member of the public to a state of orgasm within thirty minutes using a variety of unknown random objects that the said ordinary person brought with them in a bag, whilst dishing out witticisms and helpful hints on how to overcome sexual problems.

Of course occasionally the truth, on the tips of its terrible toes creeps into such conversations. The majority of gigolos are, of course, men who get paid for sleeping with other men and at this point the guffaws of envy and the raised eyebrows of "well-I-know-I'd-glady-have-a-piece-of-that-and-I-could-and-all" soon turn to the embarrassed silence of "yeah-I-hadn't-thought-of-that".

This seems rather strange to me. Apart from the apparent lack of opportunity for a career in day time television that this rather more mundane vocation offers (though to be fair the world of light entertainment would be a sorrier place without it), I would have thought that being paid to fuck and be fucked by men all day long would really be much more up the street (really no pun) of your average guy. Afterall the numbers of men who are attractive and yet still get turned on by paying for random acts of sexual intercourse with complete strangers must be higher than the numbers of attractive women in the same boat. Furthermore it is a tired and hoary old truism that the male appetite and approach to sex is quite different to that of the average woman. To further propagate the stereotype, if you want to get the most out of your casual and inconsequential physical encounters with others (paid or unpaid) you are probably best off sticking to the same gender. This at least was the theory in Classical Greece and they invented the Oylmpic Games, Philosophy, Theatre and doubtlessly a whole bag load of other things which are, basically, gay - like Rugby and Running About.

However what these happy-go-fucky fools blithely ignore about the realities of being a gigolo is the fundamental truth about the line that should be drawn between your hobbies and your work. It might seem a good idea to get a job doing the thing you love, but think this through. What do you do when you come home from a really bad day at work? Something to relax yourself, may be you listen to some music, may be you walk the dog, may be you drink gold top milk from between the thighs of the woman you love - either way it is not work. Now imagine yourself in a different job. May be you are a music critic for Q magazine. May be you get paid for walking the dogs of the elderly and infirm. May be you are a man whore endlessly encouraging erections from your tired member in order to satisify the demands the hordes of cynical female executives with burnt out eyes and falling busts. You've had a bad day, you come home - what do you do? You see, it's not such a good job after all. There you are thinking that you are, if not God's Gift to Woman then at least Woman's Reasonably Expensive Gift To Herself and the next thing you know you cannot bear the thought of another pair of bosoms welling greedily over the top of a tight black corset like two vast grey whales trying to escape from captivity. Soon there you are in the pub enviously glancing across the bar at that weedy guy Phil - he walks dogs - AND HE GETS PAID TO DO IT!

"Basically, gay".

Charlie Productions believe passionately in doing things and always trying to stop in time for tea.

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