Record Breaking Day

8:30 - Start my day with the same conversation I have every day
    "Hi, It's Realme, I'm booking on"
    "Good morning, Ok, talk to you soon"
    Hang up. Go back to sleep

8:48 - Phone rings, jolts me back awake.
   "I have a call for you here, but feel them out. They're haggling a lot over the price. It's someones birthday, and they all want to celebrate with you."
    "Ok, I'll call them, and explain the rules, see how it goes."

8:50 - Phone the birthday boy.
    "Is this Jason?"
    "Yeah, can you come over?"
    "Where are you?"
    "I'm in the south"
     "Are you in a house or a hotel room? Are you with your friends?"
    "I'm in a house, my buddy is here, but he's sleeping."
    "Ok, I just want to make it clear that the rate you were given is just for you for half an hour. I don't want to see anyone else there, I don't like being out numbered."
     "Don't worry, you'll be safe, we can go in the basement."
     "Ok, what's your address." He sounded drunk, but nothing out of the ordinary. I consider getting Andrew out of bed to drive me, but it would take him too long to get down to my end of town. Also I wouldn't want to ask that big of a favour so I would pay him, cutting further into my profit. I'd be making almost nothing on the call.

8:52 I call work and confirm I'm taking the call.

10:00 Arrive at Dudes house. He's definitely drunk. Most likely high on coke as well. He suggests we fuck in the living room, but I decline. I don't want anyone walking in on us. So we go into the basement, unfinished with these little couch like chairs pushed together. Awesome. I start to wonder if he's too drunk to fuck, but he starts make the moves, so apparently not. He tries to start out bending me over, but he's having a hard time with balance, and won't go low enough. I try to kindly tell him that it's not going to work, but he's persistent. Finally I straighten up and look at him square.
    "It's not going to work," I say flatly. I lay back into the couch and he lowers down on to me with the same finesse of a helicopter then he start jackhammering into me. He's so rough, I'm worried the chair is coming apart. This is not enjoyable for me. Not at all. It was weird. He was so rough, but I felt nothing at all. It didn't feel good, it didn't hurt, just the breath being knocked out of me with each thrust. I feel like I'm being raped, I thought. Then I felt really bad for thinking that. This is not rape. Clearly. It just felt so violent and forceful. I just checked out in my brain and waited for the remainder 15 minutes to be up. It was one of the worst calls I've been on.

10:26 - Phone rings
    "This is your time call."
    "Thanks."
     Hang up.

He hadn't finished when it was time for me to go, and tried to talk me into staying for another couple minutes.
   "That's not how it works," I tell him. I really wanted to use the washroom, but I decided it would be best to get out of there.

10:32 - Call Work
    "Hey, it's Realme, I'm out," They're waiting for that call, and I won't make it until I'm in my car with the doors locked. I will always use my real name too. I figure if I say my name is Alison it will be a red flag for them indicating that I'm still with the client.  I see this as a good thing.
    "Ok we have another call for you." They give me the info.

10:33 - I call client, but he wants me to call him back in 10 minutes. He says he's trying to get out of going for breakfast with his buddies so I can come over. He's probably just calling a bunch of agencies looking for a girl he likes the most.

10:34 - I phone the agency back and let agency know.

10:45 - I call Dude back. He thinks that we've seen each other before. I'm honest with him, and tell him that I'm better with faces than I am with names, so I'm not sure. He has a million questions for me. Usually these conversations only last a couple minutes, but he has a million questions. He wants to know all about my services, but I don't like talking about that stuff on the phone.
    I told him that I don't do Greek, and he's like, "Ugh, of course not! That's inhuman!" His repulsion to it makes me think it's his fetish, and a bit of a red flag.
    After all that he says he'll call me back later that afternoon. That means I'll never hear from him again.

10:53 - I call the agency and let them know, and head into Starbucks to do some long over due bookkeeping

11:30 - Agency calls, with another call for me so I leave Starbucks. I haven't even touched my coffee. I don't want it. I figure for $2.50, I can rent their table space. Doesn't mean I have to consume things my body doesn't need.

11:35 - I call the client and book.

11:38 - Report back to Agency and head downtown.

12:18 - Arrive at Chris' apartment and check in with the girls. He's watching What About Bob, and we reminisce over what a classic the movie it was. I watched it so many times as a kid. I suggest watching the movie from bed, but he declines.
   "This is ok," He tells me.
   Half an hour goes by, and we're chatting lots, and laughing lots.
   "So, if you have any expectations..." I say to him, and look over to his bed.
   "No, can we just do this? I just like to talk."
    "Yeah, for sure, it's your time, we can do what ever you'd like. I just didn't want the time to sneak by with out you realising it." I fine getting paid to watch TV! He cuddles into me more.

1:06 - The hour passes and he asks if I stay longer would he get the next hour for a lower price. I put on my sad face, and say no. It is way too busy to be giving out discounts today!
    "Ok, well then I have to go to the bank."
    "Well, how about you do that, and I just run and grab us some lunch." I was STARVING! All I'd eaten so far was a banana. He agreed, but declined on food for himself.

1:47 - Return to Chris. I phone the agency back, to check in again, and they let me know I have to pay another fee for this call. I was a little taken aback. I thought it would just be considered one two hour call. Nope. Because I left, two one hour calls, two fee's. But the second call is considered a call back, which is good for my records. I don't argue it, because A. I'm sitting beside my client, and B. I'm not the agency's favorite any more. My availability has sucked lately. I'm booked off way more than I'm booked on. So. Just leave it.
    Chris was watching Dinner for Schmucks when I got back, and we laugh about it and other things.
   Inspired by the movie, he asks me, "Have you ever had a stalker?"
    I laugh, "No!"
    "Really!?" He's surprised.
    "Hey, listen! I'm a nice girl. I'm a nice girl who just likes to do naughty things! But I don't associate with people like that. All of my friends are very normal people."
    "Yeah, but you've won in fights though."
    "Ha! Welcome to the Gun Show, my friend." I laugh as I flex my pipes. And by pipes, I mean minuscule little girly muscles. "I've never been in a fight! Well not since grade 2, anyway. I'm a lover, not a fighter!"
    He was nice. I enjoyed spending time with him. He said he was 25, although he looked younger. He is a roofer, so quite well built. We laughed about his tanned arms compared to my total whiteness, and he's like I bet my legs are whiter than yours! I think he's going to take off his pants to show me, but nope. He pulls them up from the cuff. It's not that I wanted to have sex with him, it was just weird not having sex with a client, that's all. And surprisingly, his legs were whiter than mine.  He was a sweet heart.

2:49 - Agency calls with their time call. I was a little sad to leave him alone. He just wanted company.

2:52 - Called to confirm I'm out.
    "So I know you can't say for sure, but is it busy enough for me to stay down town, or should I return to Narnia?" I ask her
    "Ha ha ha, I can't answer that for you!"
    Damnit. I decided to stay. I drive around a trendy neighbourhood near downtown hoping to find a coffee shop with couches. I find some thing close. I'm there for all of half an hour.

3:36 - Agency calls with a new client. He's about eight blocks from where I was. Perfect.

3:56 His place was nicer than I expected. He had his bed in the living room, and he was sprawled out watching the football game. He looked like John Cleese. We laugh and joke a bit, then get down to business. Afterwards he asked that I give him a massage. I was kind of hoping to be outta there right away, but no dice. As I rub him down, he asks what my fantasy was. I usually make something typical up, but instead I laugh, and tell him what's been on my mind lately. His fantasy is a virgin. He's never had one. I think about it, how he would manage that.
    "That's a tough one," I say, "I can't think of any way you'd do that with out taking advantage or being predatorial..." May as well be honest.
    "Yeah. Do you have anyone at the agency who is innocent?"
    Innocent? What does he mean by that? We only have whores at the agency. As a rule. "We might have an 18 year old" I say grasping at straws. "I can find out for you."
    The massage went on for ever, then finally I just declared myself done. He was very happy though, and gave me a nice tip. He asked for my number, so I gave him my card.
    "No, I want your number."
    "I can't do that," I tell him. I'm glad we're having this discussion after he gave me the tip, rather than before.
    "No one has to know, I won't be calling all the time." They always feel like they can talk me into shit. But I suppose some girls cave, so you can't blame a guy for trying...? I do. I'm not giving out my number.

4:45 - Leave Johns house and  drive home.

5:54 - I don't want to book off, but at the same time, I need to eat, and do laundry, and shower. I NEED this time. So I call them and let them know I'll be booking back on in an hour.

6:35 - It' hasn't been an hour, but I call and book back on. Chances are I won't be getting a call right away anyway. I'm fresh out of the shower, and that's about all I've accomplished.
   "Ok, great," The receptionist says, "We have a call for you." Are you kidding me?

6:38 - I call the client, and tell him I'm going to be a little more than an hour.
    "So you'll be here in an hour?" he asks.
    "No, I'm really far away from you, and I just got out of the shower, so I'll need about an hour and 15."
     "I want you here in an hour."
     "Ok, well, I'll be there in an hour then, but I might be 15 minutes late." Fuck. Buddy, what do you want me to say?
    "So you'll be here before 8?"
    "Yes, I can do that. Listen, I'm just being honest with you, I don't want you waiting around thinking I'm not going to show up."
    Hang up the phone, and start racing around the house. I convince my room mate to make me some soup, which I throw in a to-go mug and bolt out the door.

7:41 - The biggest highway is a parking lot. We are all stopped and there are cars for as far as I can see. Uggggh!!! I've missed the last turn off. I'm committed. I turn on the radio, and they've got it down to one lane. There is no way I'm going to make my appointment.
    "Screw it," I say. I'm already in the outside lane, so I take my little hatchback off-roading. I jump the curb, determine whether it's smarter to go in to the ditch head on, or at an angle, and get the fuck out of there. It's not long before I'm on another highway, racing across the city.

8:00 EXACTLY! - Arrive at the clients. He's nice. He kind of smells though.
    "Why don't I wait here, while you hop through the shower," I sweetly suggest.
    "I showered before, but I guess I sweat." I didn't want to be insulting, but I didn't want to smell like him after.
     He comes out and we get right to it. When I looked at his penis, the words, "Oh it's just a little guy," almost came out of my mouth. Gawd! I'm getting better at this thinking before you talk thing. We're done in five minutes, and I start getting dressed.
    "Did you want to stay and chat for a bit?" He asks. Of course I do. No.
    We start talking about his job. He's a pharmaceutical researcher.
    "So does that mean you make drugs?"
    "Well, I research them, and test them."
   I'm suddenly really interested. "So what does your average day look like?" I ask. And he starts to tell me about the different stages of drug testing. Right now he's working on neurological damage.
    "Hold on," I say, "I have so many questions. So do you test on mice, or rats?"
    "Yeah, we test on mouses." That's right, mouses, not mice. This guy was funny. He had a thick accent, and a lisp, so I only understood about 50% of what he was saying, but I was fascinated.
    "So how do you know when the mouse is in pain? Do you test their heart rates?"
    I forget exactly what his answer was, but he's telling me that they use diabetic mouses, then he goes in to all this detailed stuff about diabetes.
    "Wait... How do you get diabetic mice? Do you just order them from a factory?"
    "Well, I wouldn't call it a factory, but yeah."
    "There's a company that just makes sick little mice? Poor little guys. And this is in town?"
    "Yeah."
    "That's so weird. I know this goes on, and I know, obviously there has to be animal testing, but I just assumed it was in some far off place. It's just something that I've never ever thought of before" We talked about it for a while, and I was just ENTHRALLED. Then he switched the conversation to my job, and asked questions with the same level of curiosity and fascination. It was really a fun conversation. I couldn't stop thinking about the plight of the mouses though.

8:57 - Call, let the agency know I'm out. Get new call. A call back. Same name as 6 Fingers. Haven't seen him since May... could it be? On the phone this guy doesn't have an accent, so it's not him. I don't know who this guys is. I'm on my way though.

9:23 - Pull up into the neighbourhood, and I think, could it be? Is it he? It is!!! Yay! It's my client that looks like James Franco from September 25th.  I love this guy. He invites me in, in his bashful sort of way, and offers me some water. His house is beautiful.
    "Are you moving?" I ask, referring to the for sale sign on his front lawn.
    "No, I'm taking it off the market. I've decided to stay."
    "Good," I say, grabbing him by the waist and pulling him against me. "I'm glad you called me."
    "I requested you," He said, feeling a little silly. I kissed him, hoping to convey that he didn't need to feel silly.
    We go to the bedroom, and just enjoy each other, kissing, and removing each others clothes, one item at a time. He flips me on to the bed, and presses his chest against mine, kissing me everywhere. His hand is between my legs.
     "Did you miss me?"
     "Yes," I gasp.
    "Did you miss this?" He takes my hand and wraps my fingers around his cock.
     "Yes!" I gasp again.
    His fingers are moving so quickly over my clit, I can't talk, I can't breath. Then I make the connection. He's a guitar player. Good with his fingers... This makes sense.
    "Does that feel good?" All I can do is nod, "Good." He says, "I want you to feel good."
    When we're done we lie there, tangled up, our faces inches apart trying to catch our breath.
    "Roll over, I want to give you a massage," He instructs. He's so blunt. How can I argue?
     "Will you marry me?" I ask. Usually the question goes the other way, but oh my goodness. I should be paying him! He chuckles.   
    "You realise you get GFE?" I ask him.
    "Uh...?"
    "Yup, that's girlfriend experience. It costs extra." I've got my serious face on. He looks at me, nervous. Am I going to want more money out of him?
    "I expect to be paid in song," I tease, pointing at his guitar, he laughs and pulls it off the hook. He is soo good at playing, I just love it.
    He plays me this song that he's in the middle of writing, then stops mid-cord, and laughs shyly. "That's it so far..."
     "Don't be shy!"
    "How do you know I'm shy?"
     "You are, aren't you?" Oh man, I've just walked into a land field, and am trying to walk backwards, retracing my steps.
     "Yeah, but how do you know? What do I do to make you say that?" Ka-Boom. He wants me to pick apart his personality. Frack!
     "Well, just the way you laughed there..." I could easily tell you what he does to make me think he's shy, I could list all the subtle little things, but I'm worried he'll take offense to some thing I say.
     "You're an introvert, aren't you?" I ask, treading carefully.
     "What is that?"
    "Well, I'm an extrovert, I'm always out with people, doing social things. I'm always on the go. I bet you're an introvert. I bet you enjoy your own company more than you enjoy others." Wrong thing to say, he looks at me like I'm implying he doesn't have friends.
     "When you're tired and stressed you, you'll stay in to recharge, you'll hide out for a bit. When I'm tired or stressed, I'll go out and spend time with my friends. That's the difference. It's where you find your energy."
    Lightbulb moment. "Oh, yeah, I'm an introvert." He says. "I wonder if I'll learn more about that in the book I ordered."
     "What book did you get?"
     "Fatal Flaws of Your Personality" {or something like that}
    "Being an introvert is not a personality flaw," I tell him. Poor guy. It'd suck to be shy. There's nothing wrong with him. I don't like that he thinks that there is. But it must have held him back at some point.
    "Did you want to go again?" I ask, changing the subject. I can't get enough of him. He gets this devilish look on his face, and tosses me on to my back. I grab for another condom.

10:15 - The call comes, and it's time for me to go.

10:22 - I actually leave. I call the agency to tell them that I'm out and it's a new girl working.
     "Well aren't you a little prostitute!" She exclaims, referring to my six calls of the day.
    "Fuck!" I say. I tell her about the client I just saw, and how great this client was.
    "Oh my god! No!" She yells, "I just want to sew mine up! Coteries it! Close that whole for ever! No more penises!" I hope I never become this girl.
   I laugh, "You see, but I love my job!"
   "You must be young." By young, of course she means new.
    We joke and laugh for another 10 or 15 minutes and another call comes in so she has to go. I'm driving back down towards my home. I'm not really that tired, I could keep working, I think about it, but then I'm starting to feel the bruising. Taking a guy that size is amazing, but oh, I'm feeling it. I call her back and book off.

    Before I head home, I stop at a pub, and sit at the bar. I need a drink, and I need some food, and I just need to relax. It's kind of busy there, so I keep my eyes on my ipad, and the TV. I have no desire to talk to anyone. In my periphery I can see the old guy next to me lookin my way, but I refuse to look acknowledge him. I know it's the only thing he'd need to take as an invitation for a chat. I'm there for about a while, writing in my journal, and just generally spacing out, and these two guys come up to me. They wanna check out my ipad. I flip to an app where they can use their fingers to draw something. Buddy takes this opportunity to draw a cock jizzing all over tits.
   "You're fucking classy." I tell him. I get up, pay my bill and walk out.
    Even the douche from this morning had better manners than this guy. Why can't I just sit and have a drink?