Here’s a little story I’ve wanted to tell for the last two or three years, since it happened.
There are things I won’t do for money.
Here’s a little story I’ve wanted to tell for the last two or three years, since it happened.
There are things I won’t do for money.
A few of the finer points of being a [good] client. These aren’t deal-breakers or anything blacklist-worthy, not by any stretch. It’s about those special little things, those bits where a man misses the mark. Not really something he can prepare for; though if he actually took care of himself head to toe like his companion does it would cease to be an issue. Since the specific men who inspired these examples probably aren’t going to see me again (I don’t hide annoyance well), I hope that their next companions have an easier time of it.
A very nice and seemingly sincere gentleman offered me nine pygmy goats as a trade. I consider it a career-milestone to be offered actual livestock.
It got me thinking…what sort of animal would I be willing to trade for? A really nice saddle horse? A few quality milking goats? Pygmy marmosets? Of course there is the expense of keeping the animals, along with the expense of a place to keep them because I live in a large city. (The marmosets are delicate and don’t make good pets.) A “trade” that keeps digging a hole into my bank account isn’t worth it.
What would I trade for? Right now, I trade my time for cash. It’s always worked out for me. With cash, I can get anything I want if I have enough of it, and do stuff with it, like pay rent or set aside in savings. Dallas is not a barter-town so I doubt I’d get very far trying to trade pygmy goats at Neiman Marcus for a new handbag.
In a roundabout way, I found out that this post over at Tits and Sass had mortally offended a client. No need to be offended, one can’t spend large amounts of close, personal time with another person without indulging in some (or all) of these activities. These things are what normal people normally do in relationships — only they aren’t compressed into a day or weekend or whatever.
It did get me thinking of more time-wasting activities for escorts who need a little mental/emotional alone-time during extended bookings (men: think of it as care and feeding for her soul, not as time away from you). So here are my suggestions.
After years of receiving my own pile of emails and phone calls, years of listening to other girls, and my own friends who work Backpage, here is how the world would be if it functioned like these men apparently believe it does.
I assume these men are clients of some poor soul. They aren’t real clients and aren’t civilians. They live in their own special realm.
— Makes a dental appointment: “Here is a picture of my great teeth. They’re so amazing you need to pay me to clean them. What? You’re going to charge me anyway? You money-grubbing whore.”
— Speaks with a general contractor: “You’re going to bill me for this? I thought you liked working on my house so much you’d do it for free. You’re such a money-grubbing whore.”
— Calls a bank after 5pm: “Oh, so you just closed once you made all your money for the day. I see how you are, you money-grubbing whore.”
— Walks into a Mercedes dealership: “I want the newest S model. In black. Turbo. Fully-loaded. Full warranty. Free oil changes for life. And I only have $100. What? You won’t do this amazing deal? You money-grubbing whore.”
— Calls the home number of the manager of a local steakhouse at 4am: “Wake up. I want a steak with all the trimmings right now. The steakhouse is closed? You advertised steak and I want steak. Wake up and cook my steak. I’ll be there in 5 minutes and I only have $20. You can’t tell me no! I’m a customer! You sleep-grubbing whore.”
— Sends long love letter to therapist: “I love you unconditionally forever. You listen to me and make me feel good. You’re the most wonderful person in the world. What? You don’t want to date me? Why not? Fine. I hate you. All you care about is material things and your stupid boundaries. You money-grubbing whore.”
— Argues with bill collector: “All you care about is getting paid. I am living a spiritual life and money is not important to me, you money-grubbing whore.”
— Calls local mechanic at 4:54pm. At 4:55pm. At 4:57pm. At 5:01pm. At 5:03pm. At 5:05pm. At 5:10pm. At 5:11pm. At 5:12pm. Finally leaves message: “I hope you’re better at fixing cars than you are at answering your phone. I wanted my car fixed but my car is too good for you. You disease-ridden, money-grubbing whore.”
— Sees doctor. Goes to pay: “Why am I being charged? Not only was the doc so nice to me and took care of me, that’s what the doctor likes doing. Why should I have to pay since they like being a doctor so much? Money-grubbing whore.”
— Writes the CEO of Gulfstream: “I really like your jets but can’t afford one. However, I’m 49yrs old, 5’10”, 190lbs, drug/disease-free and like classic movies and read a lot. Could we meet for lunch so I can go ride on one of your jets anyway? NO? How dare you say that to me! I offer so much as a passenger. You money-grubbing whore.”
— Calls his local Chinese delivery restaurant: “I’m 2500 miles away but could I get delivery in the next half hour? No? Why not? I really want Chinese food and think your food is great. I’m willing to pay, and have a coupon. I don’t understand.”
— Argues with wife: “I didn’t marry you because I loved you! I married you so that I could pay your bills so you would have sex with me! And now you won’t have sex with me?! Marriage is paying for sex! You’re not living up to your end of the agreement! You money-grubbing whore.” Goes off, contacts escort off Backpage: “Here’s a picture of my penis. It’s really big and I’m really hot. Free sex — just for you! You want paid? You money-grubbing whore.”