News Round-Up: Ashley Dupre

You’ve probably heard that Spitzer’s femme fatale, Ashley Dupre, found a new job in the sex industry.

When you’re looking for advice, it makes sense to turn to a professional. You’d think that someone who makes a living doling out blowjobs would have something insightful to say about sex. But after reading her column, we’re not so sure her services are worth $4,300.

We’ve posted a few of her words of advice below, along with how we would have answered the question.

How do I know if my daughter may be getting into trouble? -- Meredith, 40, Queens

What she said: It's all a matter of having the right perspective and approach. Most teenagers will do stupid things. What were you doing when you were a teenager? For a long time I was actually an honor-roll student and a great kid. I respected my parents and my elders.

Things really changed for me when my brother ran away when he was 15 and my parents were terrified that the same thing would happen to me, so they were incredibly strict with me . . . and that caused me to rebel and go the opposite way.

If your daughter is getting good grades, shows you respect and has a good head on her shoulders, give her room to go out, grow and make mistakes. And be there when she falls. I would definitely educate her on what is out there in the world to be wary of.
Sometimes instilling a little (but not too much) fear into her is not a bad thing. It validates your concerns so she won't think you're just being an overbearing, overprotective parent who isn't ready for her to grow up.

She is growing up, whether you like it or not. I suggest you be able to talk to her about boys, sex, alcohol and drugs, because they're around and kids do experiment. Would you rather educate her or have her getting alcohol-poisoning at a party? I'm not saying that you should condone that behavior, but you need to help her manage peer pressure and you do that not by saying "don't do any of it, it's all bad." We all know that sometimes we're attracted to the forbidden fruit.

What we would have said: This is a sex column, not an episode of Maury.

Are there telltale signs a man isn't happy in his marriage? -- J. Marshall, 37, East Village

What she said: Guys are primal. They're proud and need to be treated like they're proud and special.

Girlfriends do that for the most part. But I think that wives with children have so much pressure on them, the natural thing is for the kids to take priority. The husband feels secondary and in one form or another may seek out that required special attention outside the marriage.

Guys are so easy to please and I don't just mean sexually. We all need to feel loved and appreciated. Ask yourself, when was the last time you did something to make your husband feel loved, special and appreciated . . . and if you can't remember, then that's your sign right there.
The children are a product of your love for each other. Your relationship should always be priority. Always. Remember, happy parents usually means happy children.

What we would have said: You know, when I’m looking for advice on a marriage, I generally turn to a woman who’s destroyed one.

My boyfriend wants to know how many men I've slept with. Do I give an honest answer? --Anonymous, NYC

What she said: You don't give him an answer at all. It's really none of his business (and vice versa).

It's like you asking him how many lap dances he's gotten in his life. You know you've each slept with people in the past. It's part of being an adult and has nothing to do with your relationship now and your possible future together.

Some things are better left unsaid.

What we would have said: For once, we actually completely agree.

Best of the District: The Best Place to Pick Up Prostitution: The Four Seasons

In the mood to mingle with Z-list celebrities and congressmen you’ve never heard?

Neither were we when we found ourselves sipping champagne at the bar at the Four Seasons Tuesday night.

To our surprise, it was packed, and while we have to hand it to them for making a weeknight feel like Friday, the scene was so sleazy that we thought we’d walked onto the set of an 80s DC thriller.

The bar itself had the whole dim lighting, minimal décor, and low couches that practically scream, “We don’t sell beer for less than ten dollars.” (Although our date was happy to learn that an Amstel was only 6 bucks.)

The crowd was decidedly older: a mix of thirty-somethings and really old men who looked like they’d snuck out of their nursing homes for the night. Men (who far outnumbered women) clumped around the bar in sharp suits and watches you don’t wear when you’re in it to help people.

The women all looked like aspiring actresses. They’d lost their natural youthful beauty, and they all seemed to have independently decided that the best way to get it back would be to flat-iron their hair and then go back in and curl a few random clumps. (We seriously didn’t know people wore their hair like that outside of TV.) Their skin-tight dresses all stopped two centimeters below their vaginas. We were a little worried no one would be able to tell any of them apart.

We watched a New England Senator hit on a very pleasantly plump lush who was having trouble mixing gravity with a barstool. Every so often, we’d see one of the women help one of the octogenarians shuffle upstairs. And then we started wondering: are these women prostitutes?

While they probably weren’t charging by the hour, they definitely weren’t working pro bono.

We needed a break from the busboys in tuxes (who, by the way, were all black), so we headed out to forest of Christmas trees lining the lobby. Our momentary nostalgia for New England holiday traditions was quickly shattered by the plastic placards next to each tree.

Each one had a picture of the tree’s decorator (who coincidently owned some over-priced boutique in Bethesda) hugging a young child. Underneath the picture, there was a brief blurb promoting the store and then a longer section with stats on the child’s horrible illness. This included details like how the illness was progressing. We’re not really sure that little Tommy would want all the guests at the Four Seasons to know that he only has five months to live, but someone apparently decided that this was relevant information.

This was when we knew it was time to pay our bill and leave. And when the check came, we finally realized why those women were blowing grandpas for kick-backs. They were probably just trying to pay their tabs.