Dream of: 23 May 1998 "Hypocritical"

A group of 30-40 people, including myself, had arrived at a building to be interviewed for a job which had been advertised. We were all led into a room which somewhat resembled a small auditorium with theater-like seats and we sat down. Both men and women were in the group, of all different ages. A very attractive black-haired woman was sitting in the seat immediately on my right. When she and I struck up a conversation, she proved to be quite friendly. I relaxed in my seat and thought I must be making a good impression on her and that she must be attracted to me. She kept edging closer and closer to me, and finally laid her hand on my right leg. I was amazed that such an appealing woman would be so forward. Finally she leaned over toward me and wrapped her arms around me, allowing me to bury my face in her long black hair. I had only the slightest apprehension that we were going too far. But already I was beginning to sense something phony about the woman, and my attraction for her was starting to wane.

However, I didn't stop her as she reached down and extracted my erect penis from my pants. After some muffled negotiation, I agreed to pay her one hundred dollars, and she proceeded to bend her head down into my lap and pleasure me with her mouth. Although I enjoyed her performance, it seemed to end too quickly, and once again we were sitting back next to each other in our seats.

Only now did I start to realize what had happened. Now it was clear to me that this whole enterprise was a sham. There were not really any jobs to be had here. Instead, unsuspecting job seekers were lured into this room where they were hustled by prostitutes. Now that I looked around the room, I noticed a number of attractive women who were cozied up to men like myself. Obviously not all the job applicants were targets of the women. Some of the applicants were even women themselves. Those rather drab women were easily distinguished from the painted faces of the prostitutes. But it was clear that eight or nine of the men in the room were indeed targets of the prostitutes.

Incensed that so many people were being duped, I decided immediately to expose these charlatans. I stood up and boldly announced to everyone in the room that this entire set-up was a sham. I proceeded to explain how the ploy worked, how unsuspecting men were brought in here hoping for a job, and then seduced by the prostitutes. People began standing and leaving. Clearly the others realized I was correct. Together several of us walked into the next room where two or three men who were running this operation were seated at desks. Immediately I launched into a tirade about how I had discovered the true nature of this business. To myself I was thinking that the men who ran this show made their money from kickbacks from the prostitutes. I shouted out something about a "prostitution ring."

A young light-skinned Negro man sitting at one of the desks seemed particularly worried. He said something to one of his compadres about how much trouble they were going to be in. I chimed in that they certainly were in trouble, that we weren't simply talking about a civil case, but a federal criminal case. Everybody taking part in this charade could end up going to jail.

As I had been talking, another of the winsome prostitutes had sidled up next to me, as if she were thinking it might be possible that I would want to have another round with her. But she quickly saw that I was serious now and that I couldn't be dissuaded from exposing this operation. She quickly pulled away from me.

At the same time another woman walked up and began talking with me. She was obviously not a prostitute, but one of the unfortunate job-applicants. Physically she had little to recommend her. She was too tall, too ungainly, and too hard to look at. Yet as unattractive as she was, something pleasant in her personality made me feel comfortable talking with her. However, I felt slightly sheepish about going into much detail about how I had uncovered the true nature of this organization. After all, I had actually paid the prostitute to service me. It now seemed somewhat hypocritical to be playing the role of the avenging angel, when only a few minutes earlier I had been playing the role of the impassioned john.

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