The Flavor of Love
By: William, Dollar Bill
Tags: Culture, Humor, Life, Prostitution, Flava Flav

Flava Flav! Yeah, boyeee! Almost every music fan is familiar with Public Enemy and its comical clock-wearing member (Flava Flav). He was so popular in fact, that VH1 featured a reality presentation titled “The Flavor of Love,” which was one of my guiltiest pleasures when it ran from 2006–2009.

At the time, I owned an adult advertising agency and escort website in New York City — and was more than familiar with hoochie mama culture via my association with American-born escorts. And when I say “hoochie mama,” I mean women (of any color) who worship rappers and/or drug dealers, wanna shake their asses in a rap video, twerk their way through life, and fuck a lot of guys with multiple tattoos.

And that’s exactly who signed on with VH1 to court the favor of one Flava Flav, while they made union scale seeking fortune, fame and notoriety.

It wasn’t long after watching the first episode that I said to myself “I know I’m gonna run into one of these girls on the trail sooner or later.”

That was based on how similar they looked and acted to the American girls who were buying ads from me.

Of course, I was right. It wasn’t but a year or two later that a big New York madam who was running ads on my blog called to say “guess what, Billy! I just hired one of the Flava Flav girls.” Figuring to monetize this aha moment, I blogged about so-and-sos’s new employee. Fifteen minutes later, the madam called back to exclaim “my phones are exploding! And the girl doesn’t want to be outed. You have to take that down!”

It turns out that the Flav star wasn’t happy about her 15 minutes of fame and didn’t want the world to recognize her. Often (Ron Jeremy for another), reality show stars don’t like the editing — nor the resulting light in which they didn’t necessarily shine on the show. And they’d rather bury the memory. This girl was one of them. Oh well! So much for making the organization a fortune with my blog post. Discretion was the order of the day.

Fast forward maybe a year and the madam and I have a new program. Now being prosecuted by the federal government for my role in the escort world, I stopped advertising for the community and became house photographer and webmaster for this big madam. And rather than take my pay in cash, I took it in sessions.

The program was that I’d call the phone girl to find out who was available — and who’d been sitting for a while and was relatively fresh. In whorehouse reality, you really don’t want a girl who’s just done 4 straight guys. It’s gonna be hard to get her engaged. Not only that, the boss really wanted me to see either a) new girls so I could report back…or b) a girl who’d been sitting and needed an ego boost.

As such, the Flava Flav girl was rarely available or “fresh.” Until one night, she was. In truth, this particular woman wasn’t my number one choice. But hey! She was ready and lying fallow. So here we go.

On the show, the reality starlet was something of an intimidator. In one scene, she and a few other girls were sitting in a hot tub when the girl bragged that she had no gag reflex…and went on to reveal she likes girls as well as guys.

The looks on the other girls’ faces was precious. They were like… “No way I wanna compete with this freak!”

The madam was infamous for having ravenous GFE girls in her employ. Thus, freaks were more or less a dime a dozen within her organization. To find an actual porn star or girl who was dating a New York Knick was not out of the ordinary at this factory.

Still the Flava Flav girl was extra special in the room. Yeah, she talked the talk on the show. But when it came to the room, she really walked the walk! Top ten material. My eyes are spinning as I recall our rendezvous.

I saw the Flava Flav girl once more after that. And it was even better than the first time — if that’s possible. But then she got in a hassle with the boss and quit. And then she got pregnant, went on sabbatical, and disappeared.

Oh well! I wasn’t going to marry her. It was just a kick to be a fan of the show — and then get to have sex with one of the contestants. That’s all I’m sayin’.