And When I Get That Feeling, I Want Sexual Extortion

Outside of HBO dramas, professional prostitutes rarely find themselves at the centre of the action on scripted TV; when network standards preclude getting way into the nitty-gritty of what such ladies (and, more rarely, gentlemen) do to earn a living, the dramatic possibilities inherent in bringing their lives to light are obviously limited. But a couple of (basic) cable shows have recently introduced prostitution into their storylines in the same sneaky way.

You probably missed both of these events, because you are classy and these shows -- even before they threw sort-of hookers into the mix -- are not. First, there was Raquel (Valery Ortiz) on Hit The Floor. In the second-last episode, Raquel agreed to a request by her ex, smarmy sports agent Jesse (Bernard Curry), to sleep with him one last time; in exchange, Jesse volunteered to drop a previous threat to seek custody of their son, Miguel, and instead would leave both Miguel and Rachel alone forever. Then, last night on Devious Maids, Philippe (Stephen Collins) responded to a request for financial assistance from his ex-wife Genevieve (Susan Lucci) by offering her a Manet worth $1 million, if only she'll sleep with him one last time.

Okay, so first of all, let's address the obvious issue: how good are these bitches at sex that guys who've already Done It with them would offer items of significant value in exchange for one more go-round? Not only that, but both these rich bros are so hung up on their exes that all the other probably anonymous tail they're probably both getting can't compete with what they used to have? I mean, for God's sake, Philippe isn't just so wealthy that he can gamble a $1 million piece of art on a whim; he's so wealthy he can make his maid wear a uniform that comes with a little hat.

Of course, I am joking. I'm pretty sure, though the shows don't spell out the patriarchal implications of their storylines, the point in both Jesse's and Philippe's case isn't to get in one last hay-roll with their former flames; it's to exploit the leverage both men have over both women to humiliate them sexually. Raquel agrees to Jesse's offer because she doesn't have the means to keep him out of her life in any other way. And Genevieve refuses Philippe because, even though she's currently broke thanks to shenanigans on the part of her longtime money manager, she comes from privilege and has spent seventy-some-odd years believing that her dignity couldn't possibly be for sale.

EXCEPT! Raquel doesn't actually go through with the deal after all. Instead, she conspires with Jelena (Logan Browning) to enact a plan even more humiliating and, in its way, even more of an affirmation of the patriarchy: they get NBA star LJ (Cleo Anthony), who is gay, to dangle the possibility of signing with Jesse if only Jesse will agree to bottom for LJ, and yes, this is a storyline that really happened on a show that airs at 8 PM (5 on the west coast if you're on satellite!). Because the whole thing is a set-up, Raquel gets it on video, and gains the leverage advantage.

There's a switcheroo in Genevieve's storyline too, of course; when her maid Zoila (Judy Reyes) commends her for having the self-respect not to give in to Philippe's dirty request, she comforts her by promising to show Genevieve how to be self-sufficient by cooking her own meals and washing her own clothes and that's all it takes for Genevieve to undo a couple of buttons and head back in to give Philippe the business after all. Given her lifestyle, the $1 million Manet -- assuming she gets full price for it when she sells -- won't solve her financial problems for too long, but she has another plan: to find rich husband #7.

So what can we extrapolate from this trend? One thing is that, in These Economic Times, formerly respectable women may be offered more opportunities than they used to have to rent their junk out for financial gain -- at least on TV. Another is that even though much of TV revolves around presenting to the viewer an aspirational if unattainable model for an expensive, fancy lifestyle, those characters who enjoy it are still objects of derision and scorn, and underdogs triumph in the end -- at least on TV.