Contemplations

    Jake came over to watch a little Breaking Bad the other night, and early into the episode, I got called into work. I didn’t have to travel to far, so in the interest of the show, I told the client I’d be there in an hour. Jake talks a lot while we watch shows. I had seen the first half of show so I didn’t mind. The call came right at the scene that I’d stopped watching so I quit participating in the conversation and focused on the show. He knew that it was work that called, and noticed that I got all quiet. 

    “So do you get all psyched out before you go to work?” He asked. 

    I didn’t really know what to say. Generally when I get the call it’s a race to get ready, but in this case, I just had to do a quick make-up touch 

    “What? No, why?”

    “You got all quiet.”

    “Oh, it’s just cause I haven’t seen this part of the show yet.” I told him. Half truth. The other half of that truth is it’s kind of like Pavlov’s Dog. Ring a bell and I’ll salivate. My body knows, and it starts to get ready. Sometimes, most of the time, I get super turned on before a call. 

    I didn’t feel the need to share this with Jake, because part of the understanding of our friendship is no more hooking up, which is fine. We’ve both changed, and that part of our relationship is behind us. 

    Having said that, I want to stress again that Alison having sex and Realme having sex are completely different things. Unless it’s extraordinary sex, ie like with the guy who called me Ally, I check out mentally. I really do. Yes, my body responds, and sure I have orgasims, but I really don’t get any gratification from it. Like right now, yes, I have sex every day, but I would love to just get laid. I haven’t had good, intimate, kiss you all over sex since I went on my little trip at the end of September. (Ugh... long mental lag there... the reader doesn’t know about time lapses.) Alison’s sex doesn’t even hit the radar of Realme. Maybe they are on to something when they say that women need that emotional connection in order to really enjoy sex. I’m finding that to be true lately. I have no interest in a hook up or a one night stand. I want cuddles! Actually, right now, I think I’d take cuddles over sex, but spooning inevitably leads to forking...

Anyway

     It got me to thinking what exactly goes through my psyche before I go out on a job. I would honestly say I do get a little nervous. About a 3 out of 10. But mostly it depends on how the call went. I always hope for the best, which is a cliché, but it’s true. To me ‘best’ means that the guy is a dude. He’s chill, and clean, and funny and easy to talk to. Hopefully he’s not living in a basement suite, and he’s not an SPD (ugh). I love meeting new people, so there’s a little excitement there. I’m not super particular about age or physicality's. I think a guy can be attractive and overweight, just as long as he does take care of himself. I like kindred spirits. 

     At the same time there’s a little dread. The not knowing. Sometimes I can tell on the phone if I am just going to be something that facilitates their orgasim. What if he’s stinky, or he has cat hair all over his bed (Allergies. Yes, I have left calls for that. Wash your sheets, dude). 

     There’s one or two cultures out there that pretty consistently treat me as a commodity. They don’t care who I am, what my name is. They have no interest in what I look like, or how I feel. They  don’t even want to fuck. They just want to cum. I feel racist about it, but it’s so consistent with them. Having said that, some girls will flat out refuse to see these guys. These guys treat me like a whore. I am not a whore, I’m an escort. Sure, raise your eyebrow, but you go into a restaurant where you’re paying upwards of $40 a plate, and tell your server to just bring you your food. You won’t do it because it’s rude. 

    Then there’s other tell tale signs as to where they’re from, or what generation they’re from. Names like Cecil or Bert are often indicators that they’re from a small town out in the prairies. 

    So that affects what I think about before I go into work. I often wonder how quickly I can get in and out. Sometimes, (most often with the afore mentioned culture) I literally can be done and back in my car with in 10 minutes, and have the whole hour paid for. I’ll give them credit for that. Although they’re often stingy bastards, and only pay for the half hour, or try to bargain. Side note: Watching the movie Easy A, from the perspective of someone who gets paid for actually having the sex, was hilarious. Especially the scene where the guy tries to give her a coupon. I died laughing! 

    Back in the day, when I was new, I used to worry when the door was about to open that it would be someone I knew. I’ve actually gotten really lucky, in that I’ve never run into anyone I know, or a client outside of work. There have been a few instances where there’s that guy in the check out line, and he looks familiar. Now I don’t know if I wouldn’t recognise the face of a client. In my contact book I keep a note of something about him, to remind myself who he is if he calls back (ie: ginger, likes when I ...) But that doesn’t always bring a face to mind. Generally how I play it, is if I think I see someone who is a client, I just pretend I don’t know him, and he doesn’t know me, which is probably more often than not, true. Ange ran into one of her clients at the strippers one time. (yup, her and I went down there collecting posters) It was plenty awkward. 

    One of the things that almost always goes through my mind is making sure that I look good enough. Often when I start putting make-up on, I look in the mirror, and think, seriously? This is what I have to work with? Ugh, good luck! But as the paint goes on, things look better. It reminds me of the National Enquirer when they show movie stars without their make-up. I clean up good though. Ha ha. I’ve never ever had a complaint, but sometimes I worry that guys are disappointed with what they see when they open the door. I have always been chosen first when working with other girls, but I’m no bomb shell. I don’t look like the girls you see in porn. I don’t know why I’m comparing myself to them. They’re not hot. There’s one woman that I’ve met on a few occasions, and only worked with for the first time recently. She’s the full package. Fake boobs, fake nails, fake tan, probably fake hair, and she’s beautiful. Ha ha. I don’t want to look like her, but I feel like I should for the job. 

    The extreme level of weird that my job is, is not lost on me either. Often on the drive over, I think to my self; in 20 minutes, I’m going to be naked. With someone I’ve never seen before fucking me. That’s weird. That’s really fucking weird. 

    My biggest concern is how sober they are, or are not. I would say about 70% of my clients are not sober. Most of the time, it’s simply that they’ve had a few beers because they’re nervous. Most of the time they’re tipsy. Very tipsy. A lot of the time, they’re just fucked though. Come to think of it, I’d have to say drug usage has gone down considerably over the winter. Odd. Crack is something that I will just not participate with. If I see the pipe, I’m out. and if I think a guy has been ‘partying’ when we talk on the phone, I will ask him what kind of drugs he’s been doing, and I will make it clear to him where I stand on that. I will also call the agency, and let them know the situation, as he will most likely get passed on to another girl. My friend is a nurse, and she worries the most about blow. She says it causes people to be super unpredictable. With my experience with the drug, and what I’ve seen, frankly highest on my list of concerns is alcohol. Guy’s motor skills tank when they’ve had too much to drink. Whether they can’t get it up, or they can’t get their thoughts straight, they often get frustrated. Sometimes I worry that I may do something that would direct their frustration in my direction. If I’m ever scared though, I leave. Right away. I’ve done it several times, and the agency backs me. What I hate the most though is the time right before I decide to leave, and getting to the door safely. 

    I always knock. I never ring the door bell. I suppose it doesn’t make much sense, buy the way I see it, is they’re expecting me. They should be waiting. There’s no sense letting the whole house know I’m there. Then there’s the three seconds prior to them open the door. I know they’re standing there. I heard them approach, I can often see the light change through the peep hole. I know they’re eyeing me up before they open the door. I try not to look bored, or impatient, or aware of what they’re doing. I’m just waiting for them to open the door, anxious to see what I’ve signed up for. And some times I think, this could be the call where everything goes south. 

    So, in a nutshell, that’s what goes through my brain prior to walking onto the job. No big deal.