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Yeah, so my Internet is down. ~sad face~ I have a line up of blogs to post, but I can't. and I'm going away, so it's going to be a little while before the next post.

Slump

I think I’m in a slump. Ugh. Yup. Well, I also think that it’s cause I’m perpetually exhausted. I just woke up from a nap too. I’ve had 3 days of super late night calls, where I’ll get home between 3 or 4 in the morning, and I’m never able to go right to sleep afterward, so I’m up until 5. And folks, well that’s just unreasonable, because I’ve been getting calls in the morning as well. So… what’s that 4 or 5 hours sleep? Not so fun! I was supposed to have dinner with Jake tonight but I canceled because I was afraid of being cranky. He said, “Yes, hanging out with a bitch sucks” Awful thing to say. Hilarious cause it’s true. He meant it as a joke. I took it as a joke. We’re still hanging out. Which makes me happy. Cause he’s an awesome guy. And he thinks I’m awesome. So what else can you ask for? Sex? Yes, that’d be nice, but C'est la vie. You know what I realised the other day? Both him and Richard Gere have been the only guys who have held my hair. Like actually. Come on men, you’re dropping the ball here. I’m makin you feel all good and shit, you want me to stop so I go get a hair elastic? Be a gentlemen! Lol, maybe I should go back to bed and continue my nap now. But in reference to me being in a slump; pretty much for the last week, I’ve had to use lube with every client, regardless of who they are and what they look like. Nothing says “Oooo baby you turn me on!” like a handful of lube. Sorry guys, I feel bad. I bet if I get more sleep, regular proper sleep I’ll be able to turn it around. And drink more water, then I won’t be so dehydrated. Ha ha.

How 'bout No.

“Hey Alison, How’s it going?”

“It’s good. Whose this?”

“You know who it is, you never called me the other night” I then recognised the Jamaican accent that is no longer sexy. I hate that he has my cell number. I must not have blocked it when calling him in the early days.

“Hey Jerome. I did call you! When I said I was going to, at 5! You never called me back” I laughed, keeping my scolding playful.

“I did call you” he said in a husky tone.

“Jerome, I don’t answer 2am phone calls.”

“Oh well, come on now”

“I also wanted to tell you that I don’t appreciate you haggling with me all the time.”

“What do you mean?! But I call you direct, you don’t have to go through the agency.”

“That doesn’t matter, I told you my price, and that is what I’m worth.”

“Yeah, but I’m a nice guy-“

“And I’m a nice girl, and I do well enough that I don’t need to be haggling”

“But why should I have to pay that much when you don’t have to pay them? I should get a deal! I know you love it” Oh my god the arrogance of some men.

“Listen Jerome, I’ve told you. Take it or leave it”

“Alright then honey, I’ll be calling you next week”

Ugh, I hope not.

I’m starting to find that if you give them an inch, they take a mile, and the guys who I like the most, the ones that sneak under my skin a little, they’re the ones who do the most damage. I like the nobody clients. The ones you don’t hear about because they are non-events. Nice, clean, respectful, and they understand that they’re hiring me. Tonight my client paid me the full price for the first hour, and tried to convince me to stay for 4 more hours for $200. “Off the clock, no one has to know. You can book off. Just between you and me…” He says. This dude looks like John Malcovitch's ugly brother, and there is no chemistry. And he thinks I want to stay. I just keep telling him that the price for the first hour is the same as the second hour, it’s the third hour that there would be a little bit of a discount. As per the website! I don’t make this shit up. The whole time while ‘negotiating’ with him, I’m hoping that he doesn’t accept the deal. He keeps telling me it's up to me, but then pushes for a discount. Of course all the whilst rubbing my naughty bits. Sexy!

I think I’m cranky tonight. It’s 3:15 am now, and I actually had to wake up early this morning! Ugh!!! Perhaps I should just go to bed, rather than continue to winge. 

No Joke of the Post. 

Da Blog

So blogging eh? About that. Growing up (ok in my early 20’s) my friends were all about the blogs, and fights would break out allllll the time. They seemed to think that blogs were no-mans land. The safe zone. Where they were not responsible for what they said. And I would laugh at them. “I’ll never get a blog” I kept my journals in journals. On paper. In a box. But alas, here I am. Blogger. I still journal, but about my life. Sometimes I will write about work incidences, but I blog mostly because I think these stories are great, and often hilarious. I like sharing and I love making people laugh. I also think there aren't many bloggers out there on this topic. This is one girls honest perspective of the industry. And it's not pornographic!  In my defense I do choose carefully which of my friends I tell about this blog to maintain anonymity and reduce backlash.

In taking this job, and creating the blog, I know I have closed doors for myself though. I know now I can never be a teacher, a politician (ha ha) or probably hold any government job, be an executive, or any other position where this ‘dirt’ can come back and stain me. I’m mostly ok with that. As I approach 30, I know a lot of doors are closing anyway. Having said that though, this, if anything should be a testament to the uncertainty of life.

Emily McCombs wrote an article in Feb/Mar issue of Bust about the backlash of women who are writing honestly about their sex lives. There isn’t a link that takes you directly to the article, but if you click http://issuu.com/celinahex/docs/issue_67_smaller, it will take you to the magazine, and it’s on page 64. It’s a very interesting article and definitely worth reading

“Among the five women interviewed for this article, there are five lost jobs (six if you count a voluntary position with the Girl Scouts), two lawsuits, one child-custody battle, three book deals, one Playboy spread, and thousands of condemning words directed at them both on line and off. They’ve had their Identities outted by snooping media outlets and personal attacks splashed across the pages of tabloids. They’ve been ambushed by photographers hiding in neighbours’ hedges and outside their places of employment and they’ve had nude photographs of themselves leaked and disseminated across the internet. And what have they done that so captivated the world? They’ve simply written honestly about their sex lives.” ¹

I don’t want to discredit their experiences or their struggles, but they all feel that their persecutions were un-just. “I just wrote a blog! … How was I supposed to know anyone was going to read it.” Others feel that they should not be made to feel shame. That it’s chauvinistic, hypocritical and simply unreasonable. I agree with this, but it simply isn’t the world that we live in. Don’t get me wrong, don’t think I’m throwing my hands up in the air and saying “Oh well”. I think just by having this blog out there, it creates an awareness. But I know that it is not a matter of if, but when, I get outted. And that sucks. The last thing I want in the world is for my parents to find out. The rest of the world I can handle, but my parents, they’d be crushed.

The straight facts are that at this point in time people aren’t ready to be open minded about sex trade workers. My friend continuously compares my job to being gay. Why should I be closeted about it? “If you’re ashamed about what you do, you should look at that” She says. Yes, absolutely there are a lot of similarities between the two. There are also a lot of differences. Primarily there has been a huge amount of work done in the Gay Rights Movement. ~Nod to Dan Savages ‘It Gets Better’ Campaign~ Whereas my job is still illegal in most places. Being gay is not a choice. I chose my job. And I am not ashamed of it. Clearly! Haha. But I am also very aware that others don’t have the same views as many of the people I associate with. Many people are threatened by even discussing open sexuality, whether it be gay/swinging/kink/professional/abuse. I am aware of the risks I’m taking in this job. I’m not stupid. I could list them (but I don’t want to). But I can’t honestly say I understand the risks. I don’t understand what it’s like to be raped, or to be fired and publicly humiliated for things done in your past. I can only hope that I stay safe and that I make the right choices.

I applaud these women for their bravery, putting themselves out there, and standing up despite the attacks. They are paving the way. 

Joke of the Post: So I googled 'myself' to see how easy this blog is to find, and I came across another escort, Alison Carey Scott. She charges $250 for "subjective fellowship and erogenous body strokes” See! This is what happens when this stuff is illegal. Body Strokes! Jeeze.


 ¹ McCombs, Emily. "The Naked Truth." Bust Feb/Mar 2011: Pg 64.

Gaygaygaygaygay

No folks, I’m not talking about me, I’m talking about this evenings client. Seriously. Seriously. I get the  call, it’s for two girls, so I have that arranged, and I talk to the gentleman to see what his plans are. His buddy is there so it will be two dudes, two chicks. No problems. The other girl had time constraints so we were a little later getting there than usual, and when I called to let him know we were on our way, he said, “Ok, we’re still awake, and still normal!” I laughed; normal? “Fantastic!" I say, "That’s what I like to hear” I think since getting this job, I’ve learned what to say to retarded comments like that. Hailey and I go in together and he meets us at the door. The second he gets off the elevator my gaydar goes off, and I just about say, “Are you kidding?” But I don’t. They were just at the tail end of Forgetting Sarah Marshall. Once it was over we talked about the incredibly long cock shot in the movie, as well as other comedies for a while. When the friend and Hailey go out for a smoke, I take that opportunity to move things along. This guy is slightly older than I am, reasonably attractive, well built, and despite this, never ever has there been a complete lack of chemistry between a client and myself. I had to go back for lube twice. I told him I was dehydrated. Hahaha. But we get the job done and have a little pillow talk afterward. He was going over my face and critiquing all of my features (Men seem to like doing this, it’s so weird) Anyway, I have good eyebrows, “I would know, I have mine done… and you should see my closet, Princess!” This is what he tells me! And he sings the word ‘Princess’. And I’m laughing. He thinks I’m laughing at his joke, but I’m laughing at the warm summer breeze of pure gay that just gusted through the room. UNBELIEVABLE. Anyway. This poor guy. Almost 30 and still closeted (such a pretty well decorated closet though… I saw it)

Gold Star

Everyone wants to be good at their job. Everyone wants their boss to tell them that they’re happy with their work. My job is no different. And really, why should it be? Some time around the holidays the agency put on a photo shoot at a super swanky hotel for the girls to get their pictures taken for the website. Well, it’s April, and the agency is finally just getting the prints back, still unedited. My boss calls me the other day so I can approve them and pick my top three. It might be the fourth time I’ve met her in as many months. She tells me that she’s super happy with my work. They judge by my availability (every day I set my alarm for 8:30 and call in letting them know I can work, on days that I take off, they often call my just to make sure), my rejected calls (the number of times they offer me work, and I decline, most often cause it’s super late at night) and number of call backs (clients who want to see me again). I was really happy about this. I also keep a close eye on the big white board in the office which keeps a calendar of all this information for all the girls on a monthly basis. Averaging maybe one or two calls a day, I’m in the top 5 rankings out of over 20 for our agency. Pretty happy about that. I got my car paid off in 3 months.

With respect to the photos. All I can say is wow! They are stunning. Just incredibly amazing. I have never looked so good in my life. And they’re un-touched. I had my hair and make-up done professionally, by someone Ange found on Craig’s List. It’s so funny. Like I say, I am pretty, but I’m no knock out. Everyone has hang-ups about their looks, and I am no different. However. These photos, slap a bottle of perfume on the picture, and you can put it in a magazine. I almost had a little baby crush on me, just from looking at them. Ha ha ha. Possibly the most arrogant thing I’ve ever said? Maybe. Oh well. My boss said with these photos she is going to up my rates too. I wanted a copy of them! She wouldn’t give me one though. And I respect that. She paid for the room, she paid the photographer. Yes, it’s me in the picture, but I had no rights to the image. She was also protecting herself against me using these pictures for my own personal gain. (which I have no interest in doing, I don’t want to work solo) But I was hoping she would at least let me take a picture of the images with my iphone. Noppers. Well, they should be up on the internet by the summer, I figure. I’ll steal them then and post them here for you to see. 

Joke of the Post: I feel dirtier having sold out by putting ads on my blogs, then what I do for a living (actually, I was thinking about it, and I put up with WAY more abuse working in previous jobs, than I do in this one). 

I think this song is incredibly sexy

Click and close your eyes

Drawing Curtains -- Buck 65

He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not

I had a client take me out for dinner last night to a mutually favourite restaurant last night. It was awful! Because he's from out of town and he eats there for most of his meals, the management is quite friendly with him. When they came over to chat with us, I couldn't hear my introduction, but I did hear him say that I sure know how to mix my business and pleasure. I was so embarrassed I wanted to die. I later found out that he had introduced me as his business partner. I don't think we were fooling anyone though. We sat in the lounge and it seemed to be filled with young men in my age bracket. I was getting looks from many of them, I'm sure wondering why this old guy was pawing at me. It sucked. I used to think it would be nice being taken out for dinner with a client, now... Not so much. I think I'd much prefer the privacy of a room. At least this restaurant has two locations, and I can still enjoy their delicious baja tacos down town, cause I sure as hell won't be going back to this location. 

Jake has been a little stand-offish these past few days. So I invited him over for dinner this weekend. He said Sunday maybe? I said perfect (and it was, I lose too much $$ with my weekend activities) I texted him today around 2 to confirm before I went grocery shopping. 430 I hadn't heard from him so I sent him a text that said "mmmm, ok then. Nevermind". He calls around 8 and plays it cool. He asks about dinner, and I tell him that I wasn't sure, that he's been super ambivalent lately. He's sorry about that, he's just having second thoughts about how comfortable he is with my job. He started to explain himself, but I cut him off saying an explanation was not necessary. I am curious if it was  because he didn't want to get romantic with an escort, or if he was concerned about potential health issues. I mostly don't want to know though. He still wants to come for dinner though. He says I'm the shit. Lucky me. 

This week I've had 3 confessions of love, 2 marriage proposals (well... Suggestions) 2 offered trips to Mexico and 4 guys offer to support me. I need to learn how to take advantage of this shit!!

Ok! Joke of the Post: I saw gum dude the other day. He cut his hair. He no longer looks like he stars in No Country For Old Men. He also made a big production of spitting out his gum before I even took my coat off. ... Oh yeah, and also! I saw the growley guy again. I forgot about the growls until he started doing it again then I almost burst out laughing. Bad form. 

Realme

I’ve gone back to the bar that I’d mentioned a few times and flirted with Pierce Brosnen the Bar Tender but I’ve decided it’s just for sport. I have no intentions of following through. Cowboy Joe (actual name, ask him, he’ll tell you that he signs cheques with that name) the old guy who often sits beside me has informed me that he has a girlfriend. I told him there ain’t nothing wrong with window shopping.

I have met someone though. He’s a friend of a friend. Met him at a party. The first time we met, he tried to go home with me. I laughed at him (kindly, lol) and we struck up a texty-texty relationship after that. Following a few more chance encounters I decided that I did want to sleep with him, and accepted his birthday invitation with the intentions of giving him birthday sex. At the party things were very flirty between the two of us, and of course it wasn’t long before ‘one thing lead to another.’ I was having some serious second thoughts about this, as I often do when my libido gets ahead of my good judgment. I wanted to stop and I didn’t want to stop. I wanted to know how it was going to be different before I wandered down that yellow brick road. I told him the truth about me. I don’t know why. Maybe I wanted full disclosure, maybe I wanted him to be turned off. He wasn’t, and we proceed to have incredible sex. It was very different than work sex. I had previously discussed it with my therapist (yes, of course I see a therapist!) and she suggested that maybe I wanted to do it because I wanted to have the choice. I had chosen this person, rather than me just showing up at their door. Jake (the guy, not the therapist) and I discussed it later, and as it turned out he just thought I was lying. I have no idea why he thought I would make something like that up. But he’d asked me if I was a “Safe Escort”. I’d never heard of that term, and was confused. He was convinced that I was lying  because I didn’t know what it meant. “Hey! I didn’t get a handbook when I signed up for this!” I told him the next day. (I had to find out what ‘Greek’ meant the hard way, and no I don’t!) My job doesn’t seem to phase Jake, and we have been seeing each other casually since. One of the things that I like about him, is he does give me the things I don’t get from work. Sleep-overs, cuddles, play time, he’ll rub my back and smell my hair. He even gave me a mixed tape (but it doesn’t count cause it was pre-mixed) We were lying in bed the other night (early morning?) all tangled up and sweaty-like and I had the over whelming urge to tell him that I liked him. Then I laughed at myself and thought “Don’t be ridiculous. Don’t fuck this up” Don’t share to much. Don’t feel too much. I know if he gives me enough leash I will hang myself. This is the retarded part, and reason #16 why I hate dating; I have guys falling in love with me every day, and they want to take care of me, but I can not tell this boy that I like him for fear of rejection.

Can that be the joke of the post?

Lowest Price is the Law?

Joke of the Post: There are times when a client tries to haggle on the price/service with me. I try not to judge. Still… I find it pretty fucking tacky. My most common line is “Do you not think I’m worth it?” And I look all sad and innocent. I would also like to add that the lovely girls who took their calls have already confirmed the prices with them so that there aren’t any surprises when I show up, but from time to time.... I once had this client who just wouldn’t let up. Finally I said to him, “Listen friend, I’m not Wal-Mart!” He got the picture.

Who Cares

Ok, lets just get this out of the way… he never called. Lesson learned.

I have a new favourite client anyway. For completely different reasons. Even when I tell my most supportive friends, they furrow their eyebrows, and the corner of a lip goes up… more than a little. So go ahead and judge, but hear me out first. We will call him Frank. I have seen Frank three times in the last ten days. When he first opened the door my eyebrow went up, and my lip furrowed. Ok, no it didn’t, but on the inside it did. Frank is old. Not like older. Frank is straight up old. His granddaughter is only a little younger than I. As I’ve mentioned  before though, it’s all about respect, and there was no reason why I shouldn’t be respectful to him. I treated him like all my other clients ~ actually I really can’t say that, I really treat all my clients uniquely. So Frank and I go up to his room and spend some time on his bed, he asks me to get undressed and I do. He just can’t get over it. He can’t get over how comfortable I am with myself, and innocent our time was together and how different it was to women of his generation. If I had to guess, I would say he is at least 75 years old, and as a result, fucking is generally out of the question. He spends a lot of time looking at me, and petting, and I’ll play with myself for him. And we talk. He tells me about his wife. She passed away two years ago. They were married for 48. I find that to be just a marvel. And honestly, I’ve never really been in a position where I could have a candid conversation about it with someone who has this much experience, but we talked openly about the good times and the bad times. He said, “Absolutely there were hard times, there were a few times when we fought, and I just wanted to throw my hands up and say forget it! But what do you do? I couldn’t bring shame like that to my family.” He told me about how if a girl got knocked up, she would be sent away. A buddy of his got a girl pregnant and he felt afraid of what would happen he committed suicide. I can’t even conceive of that. I told him a bit about my past relationships, one of which was open and he laughed and rolled his eyes. He can’t even conceive of that.  He admitted to “stepping out” on his wife a couple times. I don’t know if he got caught or what the circumstances were around it. I’m curious though. He’s so grateful to have me there. He looks at me and says he’s in heaven. He said that he had never seen labia before. Mine was the first. 48 years of marriage and the lights were always off. I know it was different back then, but it baffles me. I just can’t wrap my brain around it. Sex is so wonderful, so much fun, such a carnal instinct. Why hide it so even in your most intimate times.

So why do I like him so much? Aside from the conversations we have, I’m just so glad that I can bring this joy into his life. His wife passed away 2 years ago, and now he has no-one. He put in his time. He loved her, honoured her, and was (mostly) faithful to her for half a century. Half a century. And now he has nothing. I couldn’t imagine the loneliness. It’s not like your sex drive goes away when you’re old. It’s cruel. I even told him how glad I was that he saw calling me as an option. Most people wouldn’t. I should be covered by health insurance!!! Ha ha ha. Wouldn’t that be fantastic. Right next to medicinal marijuana. Yes!

He told me he’s going in for surgery in June. He’s having his hip replaced. My first thought was if something happened to him. If he didn’t make it out that I would never find out. No one would tell me. I just wouldn’t get his calls anymore. That kinda made me sad. Then I told myself I shouldn’t care so much.

p.s. I also think that I should have a joke of the post. I’m coming up empty now, but I will work on this for the next blog.