Do You Trust Me?

I think, bottom line, any time I trust a client, I’m the one getting fucked. But I am learning. For instance, if I have a regular client who I see several times, and then one time, he’s a little short, and he’ll pay me next time; I’ll never see him again. If I have a client who I get along with really well, and we have great conversations, he’ll push for as much as he can get, but he’ll do it with all the charm in the world. If I have a client who claims/appears to have a lot of money, he will make promises of repeat business if he can have a little extra. I can’t help but get a little bitter about this. I think people in other professions don’t have to deal with this. Then I realised, yes they do. I’ve never been a bar tender, but I bet some hot chick behind the bar has guys charming her all the time in attempts for free drinks, and when I worked at the hotel, sooo many times people would put on their sweet face in hopes for an up-grade. Some times it worked, some times it didn’t. Point being: I’m not that special. I feel less bitter now.

Yesterday I fucked the Vice President of one of the biggest oil and gas companies in the world. And, you know, people tell me stuff, and I totally take it with a grain of salt. Especially this guy. Vice President? Wouldn’t he be Vice CEO or something. He gave me his business card and it said “Vice President”, but still I googled him when I got home. Sure enough. There he is picture and everything. He wants to take me to South America. Ha ha. I can just imagine. Talk about trust. Have you seen the movie Taken? I have. What I find most amusing about this guy is he tells me he’s Mr. Business at work, he never mingles with his co-workers, never hangs out with him on a social level. He doesn’t mix business and pleasure. Then he wants my personal number. Hilarious. They just don’t get it. So instead of shutting him down, I praise him for his smart business tactics, and say I do the same thing. When he asks for my number again, I then shut him down. Very nicely of course, with a coy look on my face.

I have this other client. I mentioned him around the end of February. I think I shall name him Beastly. Because he is. He’s actually a really nice guy. He’s in med school because he wants to be a pediatrician. (And I think that he wouldn’t be appropriate one, because he sees me. Even though I feel totally comfortable with what I do, the hypocritical judgment is still there) But the reason why I think he’d be such a good pediatrician is because he has such a big easy smile, and a hair cut that in a few years is going to look just like Side Show Bobs. I saw him today and I was thinking that he is one of my favourite clients. He is my only regular who doesn’t push for more. He’s funny, and nice, and respects the rules. I was kinda distracted by thinking of this when he went in for a passionate kiss (which was not paid for) It was so unexpected, it ended in disaster, and I now have a bit of a fat lip. I also left his place with a bit of a hickey, aaaannd bite slight bite marks on my inner thigh. He is no longer my favourite client. He did tip me well for ~ahem~ damages done (it really wasn’t that bad) and said that there really isn’t an amount that he could pay me because the time spent with me is priceless. I laugh, and tell him he could make a MasterCard ad: Pre Med, a gazillion dollars, On Campus Apartment: Thousands, Time With Alison: Priceless. He is a really good guy, I’m just going to have a little chat with him next time about his biting. Ha ha.