Posted on by Amanda Brooks

after the fact (stripping)

People often want to know how stripping and escorting affected me. I think I have enough distance from both to be able to begin to answer the question. Since stripping came first, this post is first.

The immediate effects of stripping were obvious: crippling knee problems, back aches, secondhand smoke, plenty of firsthand smoking, too much drinking, constant colds and coughs. And because I was never a good hustler, the constant rejection ruined my self-confidence. I was just too real in the clubs, too much myself. I never built the armor some other girls seemed to have. Of course, I also met plenty of girls who had the same problems I had. Stripping is not a job for everyone. (In escort work, my realness was an asset, not a liability.)

On the plus side, I was in great shape without having to work out and my skin was perfect all the time because of my constant care. I was the master of small talk, could out-dance anyone in a regular nightclub and learned a lot about music and rhythm. I loved having my daytime free.

I went right from stripping into escort work. Still, some things from stripping stay with me.

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Posted on by Amanda Brooks

clueless sex question #1

Playboy* magazine has its monthly Advisor column and every month some clueless dolt writes in. The Advisor’s advice is usually good, but sometimes there are things I’d like to add, or the question is so confounding that I want to say something.

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Posted on by Amanda Brooks

misused terminology (those two words)

A client once told me about his son’s frustration with his senior prom date. Apparently, the boy spent a lot of money on renting a nice tux, a limo, flowers and dinner. The lucky young lady didn’t even have the courtesy to give the boy a blowjob for all this effort, much less sex (presumably in the back of the limo or a cheap hotel). Both the boy and his father were flabbergasted by the lack of sexual remuneration from the girl – especially after all that money had been spent on her!

You can probably guess what I was thinking, even though I didn’t say it. That’s right — if the boy wanted to pay for sex, why the hell did he ask a high school classmate on a romantic date? Why didn’t he just hire someone? There are women who do that sort of thing, you know. (Although I don’t know how many would want to attend prom with an 18-year-old.)

What would have happened to the girl if she had given in and had sex with her prom date? A boy with this kind of mentality probably wouldn’t have been discreet about it. He would think of her as a slut, as easy. If he’d connected his spending of money with her sexual availability, he’d call her a whore. Since he was pissed about spending money and not getting any, I’m sure this would be an easy connection for him to have made. And, I’m betting, if she’d enjoyed their sex and actively participated, he probably would call her a whore anyway. All teenage boys know that a woman’s level of whoreishness is linked in direct proportion to her sexual pleasure.

Many men never lose this perspective.

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Posted on by Amanda Brooks

the mystery book

Warning: This is a wandering, pointless post.

I received a book sample from a printing company (aka book manufacturer) that I’d queried. This is standard practice. Printing companies will often send out an example of their work that closely resembles the specs of book you’re planning on printing. I have a few copies of sample books. They’re actual books, printed by actual people/companies who have used the printers’ services and who have apparently agreed to have their books sent out as sample products. The subject matter is rarely compelling, but that is not the purpose behind the sample.

My sample was big (over 400 pages). The specifications of the book were what I was looking for, except that the trim size was a half-inch smaller than what I had specified in my quote request. I flipped through the book, noticing that it was not well laid out, which is a fault of the publisher, not the printing company. Obviously a self-published book, I looked up the website of the publishing company, curious to see if they’d done anything else.

I also wanted a little more info about the story. At first glance, it’s impossible to tell if the story is fiction or not. It’s written in the style of a tell-all from a woman who was the long-time booty-call of a famous comedian. She eventually figures out that he isn’t serious about her when he tosses her on her ear (long after he was married and raising a family). The comedian’s name and description was thinly disguised, so I was very curious if this was a real story.

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