Big Pimpin’
Don’t let me be misunderstood
It was almost six years ago that I stood in a large and almost empty courtroom in front of the Honorable Judge when he declared “I take a dim view of pimping.” I looked around to find the pimp for just a microsecond before realizing I was the “pimp” he was referring to.
For all his Harvard degrees, Hizzoner had no clue as to what a pimp really was — and clearly, hadn’t done his homework if he thought I was actually a pimp. Just for a second, I wanted to chide him on his indiscriminate use of the term. But I’m not Donald Trump, and I don’t fuck with judges like that. So I ate it.
The truth was that while I certainly wasn’t a pimp, I did run advertising for guys who were the real deal. The real deal being predators who took all the money the girls earned to house, feed, and provide drugs and beauty treatments for the women in their organizations. In fact, two of my clients did boast Pimp of the Year trophies they won at the infamous Players Ball, where pimps and their ho’s convened yearly to bestow the honor on that exalted figure.
My association with street pimps began in the early 2000’s while I was employed at Action Magazine, a sex tabloid run by a disgraced Philadelphia PD detective. Exactly what Joe had done to get terminated without a pension I never discovered. But I assume it was some…
