Hobby Whores: Bed Rotting with Lana Hart

Sex work is famously work, but sex workers are more than just what we do for a living. Because we have to stand up for our jobs so often, being a sex worker becomes a big part of our identities. I am proud to be a sex worker, but it’s not all there is to me. Just like anyone else, sex workers contain multitudes and enjoy activities that have nothing to do with our work when we’re off the clock. What is my passion during my down time, you may ask? Rotting in bed.

Allow me to paint a disgusting picture for you. It’s 2pm EST on a Tuesday afternoon and I just woke up. The laundry I left on my bed – because I was running late for work – is now on the floor instead of folded and in my drawers as I had promised myself after I got home at 5am. My vibrator is next to me in bed – possibly still in my hand, if I’m being honest. In fact, I’ll probably kick off this holy day of rot by taking my vibrator for another go. 

I’ll think about some things that I could do but it will all sound bad and laborious because my body, mind and soul are tired from dealing with men. I submit to my bed, the darkness, the rot. 

I’ll think about some things that I could do but it will all sound bad and laborious because my body, mind and soul are tired from dealing with men.

Bed rotting is not just a hobby of mine, it’s an essential part of my cycle as a human woman in society. The time I spend wrapped up in my blankets like a cocooned caterpillar with the shades drawn is not time wasted at all. I am recharging. Think of me as a beautiful iPhone plugged into a socket, regaining sweet, sweet, battery juice. Speaking of phones, you best believe that mine will be in my hand for the majority of the rot. I will be scrolling TikTok, Instagram, and Twitter, and ignoring my text and emails. If I’m ever not answering your text but you’ve received 25 TikToks from me, please know that I am rotting. I’m having the time of my life and will get back to you within the next business day.

My fellow sex worker and bed rotter, Eve Astor, once pointed out something extremely beautiful to me: that old paintings of whores always depict them in bed because they are TIRED (of tricks). Sex work is hard work and the hustle requires rest. I love Eve’s observation and feel a kinship to the whores of history who went through the same routine as me, just without the phone. Sex work is the oldest profession, and bed rotting is perhaps the oldest hobby.

While rotting in bed is an essential part of the hustle – because we all need to recharge and it does feel good as hell – it can also be challenging to do without a sense of guilt. We are hustlers after all, and it can be difficult to fully let go of that mindset and give in to relaxation. It can feel like we’re always on the clock in a sense, because technically there is always money to be made. We aren’t required to clock in to a 9 to 5, but the other side of the coin is that we aren’t required to clock out either. It’s hard to not feel lazy, or like a successful hustler if you aren’t constantly going. As much as I love the rot, it does sometimes give me anxiety. In fact, part of writing this essay was for me to be able to reflect on the beauty of the rot and convince myself that it is essential and valuable.

My goal is to be able to truly embrace my time rotting in bed without a twinge of guilt. As a sex worker, I work hard and I deserve to rot hard. One of the benefits of sex work is being able to make my own schedule and enjoy my freedom, so I may as well do that. Bed rotting is an act of revolution, a middle finger to capitalism. And with that, I am going to reward myself for making a bag last night and writing this essay today with a proper, guilt free bed rot.

Listen to the tie-in episode of the 'When We're Not Hustling Podcast' with Lana!

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