The road less taken

This is story about that same road I crossed where I got a jaywalking ticket. This is a road downtown. The city where I come from is up on a mountain kissing the mediterrenean. I'm an uptown girl, with all that it means. Snob, sheltered, etc.

The city is divided into three - uptown, midtown and downtown. Midtown is half way through the mountain and is where the retail shops are and movies. At night you will find all the people coming out of movies, on their way to the cars to head back home (uptown). Downtown was a mystery for me for many years of my life. My dad would often go downtown on Friday mornings for some business. I later learned that this is where all the banks are located. There are also shops downtown but not the type of shops you find in midtown.

Midtown shops would sell - clothes, perfumes, kitchen ware, toys, shoes, school supplies.
Downtown shops would sell - car parts, video cassettes, music cassettes, photography equipment, audio equipment, etc.

So basically midtown caters to women shopping and downtown caters to men shopping.

That's as much as I knew by the age of 19. I also knew, or thought I knew, that downtown is ghost town after 5pm. There's no business open after that time and no reason to be there.

Well, during the late 80's and early 90's I volunteered at the USO. This is where I'd welcome American sailors who came to our port and give them directions of where to go. (Did I mention I led a sheltered life?)

So I knew how to explain things by looking at a map and saying, "OK, this is a good bar. This is a great bar. Be careful from this one, too much trouble. Police station right at the corner of this one." etc. But I didn't really go to all these places. Well actually, to be honest, I did go to a lot of them - but they were all uptown - in my own territory where I knew everyone and everyone knew me.

Let me stress one more time, I led a sheltered life. I had no boyfriends by that age and spent my high school years at home doing homework.

Well one late night (my volunteer work required staying 'til 10pm at the office), my friends from the office invited me to take a ride with them. Three girls, five years older than me, from uptown as well, but not as sheltered as I was. So me being rather adventerous I said, "sure, where are we going?" They said, "You'll see. Just get in the Jeep."

At this point they're all laughing and are definitely up to something, but I trusted them because we had been working together for several months. I got into the Jeep, which was our boss's Jeep, when they asked the driver "You sure you know how to drive this thing down hill? Because the breaks don't work." Some panic alarms went in my head and I decided to voice them out loud, "What do you mean down the hill? Where are you taking me???" My questions were responded with more laughs, but no real answers.

Well, the Jeep did fine and sure enough the surroundings looked familiar. "Isn't this the place where I got a ticket for jaywalking???" But I don't dare voice this out loud for fear of being ridiculed by three girls older than me. Then they stopped the Jeep, mid street. I look around in some minor amazement as I realise the shops are closed, but now there are tables in front and the place is quite bustling for a dead district.

Now starts the quiz: "Do you know where we're at?" And I am damn proud to show I'm not completely naiive and stupid and say, "Yes, we're downtown!" They all nod in approval and continue with the quiz, "You know what these people are doing here?" I look over and say, "Seems like they're eating at the restuarants." A few giggles later, they ask me with a curious tone, "You see those women, standing nearby, do you know what they are doing?" Well now I get quite annoyed at these stupid questions and answer out loud, "YES! They're working here, as waitresses at these restaurants!!!" Now, all three girls burst out laughing and cannot contain themselves anymore. I got really annoyed and asked them what the fuck was so funny?!

They break the news for me, "No, you don't understand. These women - yes, they indeed work here. They're working at the oldest profession in the world."

Moments of silence follows. The girls are quietly measuring my reaction, slightly worried at this point that this may have been too much information and I'm in shock.

I finally managed to process the thoughts in my head and ask the question, "You mean to tell me that 'zona' [the Hebrew biblical word for the woman engaging in the oldest profession] is NOT a term from the bible that is long gone? This profession is STILL going on thousands of years later right here in my city???"

I think the laughter I caused will never be forgotten by these three girls. While they sort of suspected I was naiive and sheltered, they had no idea it was to this extent!

I was in shock for a week later. I kept asking my friends questions about these 'zonot' [plural for hookers], because I honestly had no idea that this profession was alive and kicking in Israel let alone in my city. They had explained to me that they were being shipped from Tel Aviv because our city couldn't stand the demand when the American sailors came to town. This shocked me even further, because in my mind all Americans were angels!

With time they taught me almost everything I really needed to know to carry on with my sheltered life. They also told me to be careful from those "working women" and not engage in any confrontation with them. We had rules in our office that prohibited any "working women" within a certain radius.

One evening I was asked to go look for my boss, but since no one else from the volunteers could escort me I had asked one of the Shore Patrol officers to join me in the search. Within a 100 yards of the USO office, as I was walking, I heard this woman's voice shouting out loud to the pleasure of other sailors, "Hey look! There's the USO hooker walking up the street." Looking at her I recognized a well-known hooker whom I've seen many times before at the bars. The Shore Patrol officer with me asked me if I was okay. I laughed and told him, "I'd be the first hooker to go down in history as a 19 year old virgin!" But of course I wouldn't let this be the end of it. I did an about-turn back to the office. Picked up the phone and called the police.

You mess with me, you go to jail, Lady!

I may be naiive, but I'm not stupid.

Now before some of you get on my case - let me clarify - I have nothing against hookers nor their profession. I'm really glad they're doing such a blessed job for those ultra-orthodox men who need some outlet from their miserable lives.

I just despise liars.