Last night we got together with some friends of ours we hadn't seen in years even though we live in the same city. Our lives don't intersect ever. So weird. Another good friend who is visiting Rio with her sister was there last night and told us all about her adventures in Copacabana. This is the one story from last night I thought was worth recounting - in my own words, of course.
It's seems that late one night she was walking along the beach with some friends when they saw a happening little place. They sat down at a table and ordered some drinks when they realized that they were in a popular pick up joint for class C prostitutes. A regular buffet of what's what and the who's who in the Copacabana hooker scene.
The boys were showing some interest, but most of all curiosity. Being boys they were too shy to engage in conversation so my friend, let's call her Tess, went up to a woman she thought was beautiful and represented the best the place had to offer. After talking to her for a bit she decided to get some of the nitty gritty details of what a transaction entails. The pro Tess was talking to was one of the more expensive ones and charged a fixed price per night, with everything included for a spectacular night of unbridled, paid for, possibly safe, but definitely fun, passion. Others there charged by the hour and their basic package didn't include the special items/positions/requests - you get the picture.
In order to break the language barrier (their business is all about catering to tourists) some of the more enterprising young women had portfolios with color photographs of the pleasures they offered and how much each one cost. So you could literally flip through a catalog of unique and kinky (also pretty dirty), and choose what you were in the mood for.
After conducting a thorough investigation of the carnal workings of the Brazilian women of the night they decided it was time to leave before they'd be asked to pay something for taking up so much of their time and not closing the deal.
What a sensational bit of dinner party conversation. Makes you want to go out and do things you wouldn't normally do just so you can have a juicy story to impress your friends - or shock your parents and relatives with at family gatherings where old people are present. BTW Tess, I'm stealing your story and from now on I'm telling it in the first person.
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