Sunday, August 30, 2009

YOU AGAIN?!!!

first the good news:

i got to work with katerina yesterday. i don't think i've written about her before. she's this super adorable polish girl, all curvy and foxy with long naturally blonde hair. like: really LIGHT blonde. naturally. she's really funny and sweet. she smokes a lot of pot and is super mellow. whenever gigi or jane say anything to her, she's pleasant to them and i used to think it was an act, but lately i've thought it's real: she just doesn't care enough to be offended or annoyed. she's in her happy (or at least neutral) place and won't be moved.

like once katerina was just sitting on the lumpy couch minding her own business, drinking a coca-cola and thumbing through an old playboy and gigi said to her, "KAT. you've REALLY put on weight. you weren't nearly this fat when i hired you." 

kat took another sip of her coke which was not diet and said, "yes. i've gotten chubby. it's that depo vera shot."

gigi glared at kat's coke can, personally insulted in its regular-not-diet status, and said, "well. i'm gonna need you to DO something about that. or at least get new pictures that show what you really look like because i can't have guys seeing pictures of a skinny blonde and then showing up and getting YOU."

"yeah totally," kat said, laughing good-naturedly. "i know. i do need to get new pictures. i'll do it next week."

i hated watching gigi insult kat, but it was AMAZING to watch kat refuse to be insulted.

another day kat put the kettle on for a cup of tea. she stood in the kitchen reading a vogue and waiting for the water to boil. the kettle started making a rumbling sound, not a BOILING sound, just that rumble that kettles make as they start to warm up. gigi said, "KAT. YOUR WATER." 

kat said, "it's not boiling yet." 

a minute later, "KAT! why are you wasting electricity. your water's done!" gigi's serious as a heart attack when it comes to wasting electricity. (in fact, that's what she said when she was training me. she found that someone had left their cell phone charger plugged into a wall, flew into a rage over it, and then when she composed herself she said, "we cannot waste electricity around here. i'm serious as a heart attack about this. i really mean it.")

"i'm just waiting for it to boil," kat said, not turning off the stove.

20 seconds later, gigi, clearly hugely distressed: "KAT! it's done! i can hear it!"

"kettles make a bit of noise, then when the water's done they whistle," kat said in an impressively non-defensive, neutral voice.

the kettle whistled right on cue. kat poured the water and blew on her tea. end scene.

anyway. when i found out i was working with kat yesterday, i was happy. i have a bit of a crush on her. not like i want to have sex with her, but just that she's really pretty to look at and sweet to be around. i like her voice, it's soft and breathy.

(okay maybe i would like to have sex with her. i just realized that. in fact, maybe i would very much like to.)

kat has a boyfriend of six years and he doesn't know she works at the whack shack, he thinks she works at a day spa. i think i mentioned that in an earlier entry. anyway: mind blowing. so whenever he calls she says, "no sex anybody," and everyone needs to be quiet for a minute.

i love listening to her on the phone with her boyfriend. she's so funny and patient with him, but also sometimes slightly bitchy. like yesterday he called and she said, "i can't talk right now baby, i'm at work.......of all the things you could tell me, that's what you have to say to me......i don't have time for this baby, i'm at work.......bye baby." but all this in the sweetest, breathiest voice so it sounded like, "i love you. i love you," and not "shut up and quit bothering me at work." she got off the phone and goes, "he wanted to know why i never bring home peroshkis anymore." and then made a gesture that seemed to mean, "what a sillyhead."

so. the good news was kat. and now the bad news:

jane was there again. ALL DAY "training" the new girl, milly.

[sidenote: milly and i are friends from a long time ago. she moved to my city (not MY CITY, but the city where i live) a few months ago and we keep trying to hang out but it keeps not happening. the day before yesterday i was texting her to see when she'd be free and she texted back that she was starting a new job and needed to see what her schedule would be. i had this thought like, "good for her, that sounds exciting. maybe i should get my shit together and look for an exciting new job." and then i got off the bus and went to the house, and who should walk in five minutes later with jane? milly! this was the exciting new job. haha.]

[p.s. my shit is together and i don't want to have some exciting new full time job that i have to go to every day, particularly not any of the ones that i could get, which are hardly any. i'm working on structuring my time better and getting my other business off the ground. the details of which i'm not gonna mention here, but let me tell you that it's all pretty fantastic and that it's going swimmingly considering that i've not been putting much energy into it until only very recently.]

so anyway yesterday jane was there all day again. she's such a nightmare. she just never ever stops talking and micro-managing everyone.  it's super exhausting to pretend not to intensely dislike her. it takes a lot of work to have someone talk at you all day long and to have to keep a neutral face on. between clients, i don't WANT to talk to her. at all. but she does not care. she just talks and talks and talks. she's so lonely and needy and i feel resentful that she's squeezing attention out of me when i'd just prefer to ignore her. go make some fucking friends! i'm not your friend!  

whenever we girls are talking she hijacks the conversation and makes it all about her and her tantric/fetish friends and she talks about them slowly, in detail. or if she's not interested in the way the conversation is going, she'll just take over with some random question. like yesterday kat and i were talking about how our moms are super young. hers had her when she was 19, mine was 18. kat was like, "isn't it nice to have such a young mom?"

i said, "well, mine isn't really that young because she has a lot of health problems."

then jane, apropros of nothing, says, "oh yeah? what did she say to you when you came out to her?"

her phone rang right then so i didn't have to decide whether to answer or ignore her.  

kat and i just looked at each other. i made a stabbing motion like norman bates in psycho, knife in hand, arm back and forth from the elbow hinge. "eee eee eee."

kat laughed. a moment passed and then she said, "so what did she say?" i told her how i got all set to tell my mom i was a lesbian, it was national coming out day--october 11-- and when i told her she said she'd known since i was two. to work up the nerve to tell someone something important only to have them say they already knew kinda takes all the drama and excitement out of it. but whatevs.

then i had two clients back to back. the first one was a cute young asian guy with glasses and good fashion who was small and muscly. he was a soccer player. he was super nice and easy to get off. the next guy looked a lot like the first one. small and asian, super muscly. this one was a yoga enthusiast. unlike the first guy, however, getting this one off was very labor intensive. my arm started hurting and i thought, "get me out of here!" but then he finally got off. sheesh.

usually i'd like to stay late and try to have more than two appointments, but with jane there it just wasn't worth it so i did all my cleaning and was dressed and ready to leave at the stroke of 6:30 (that's the earliest you're technically allowed to leave).

crossing my fingers that next time i work it's just girls.

Friday, August 28, 2009

back again.

today was my first day back to work after being on vacation for almost two weeks. i loved not working.

i woke up early and posted my ad. someone called for an 11am appointment so i got up to the house around 10:20. this girl yala was there. she's definitely the shadiest girl who works there. she is very rarely on the schedule, just does appointments under the cover of night or else super early in the morning. i don't care what she does, but today she fucked up my game. when you're actually ON the schedule, you're supposed to have priority when it comes to booking a room. but when i got up to the house angie had an 11am in the book, and yala had one at 10:50 that she hadn't bothered to write down. i was like, "oh shit. what are we gonna do?" she was extreme about not being willing to call her guy or reschedule or anything so i ASSUMED that she must be on the schedule.

i called my guy to tell him not to come, but he didn't answer so i left a message. he didn't get it and showed up anyway. he was annoyed.

well then i found out that yala wasn't even ON the schedule. i was fucking pissed. what a shady little fucker. and on top of it, she still didn't bother to write down her appointment.

so. then here comes jane. fuck. really?

she was there ALL DAY. what a day. the sound of her voice, as i think i've mentioned, is like nails on a chalkboard. and she Never. Stops. Talking.

fortunately, i had my computer with me and i put on headphones and listened to music and also watched news reports. i'm obsessed with the story about the girl who was recently found alive after being kidnapped 18 years ago. she has two kids! she had them when she was 14 and 16! she lived in a tent for 18 years and so did her daughters! the daughters were born at home and all they know of the whole world is their little tent compound. it's crazy! i can't even get my head around it.

yeah. so other than that it was a very very annoying day.

the only thing that wasn't annoying besides watching internet television, were my clients. i had two and they were both nice, well-groomed, polite. both were super in-shape and good looking, actually. it was a lucky day in that way.

now i'm home. listening to a cd a friend gave me of a band called, "lovers." it's so good but a little distracting to listen to when i'm trying to write.

it's so warm today. a warm NIGHT, actually, which almost never ever happens in this chilly little city where i live. usually even when it's warm during the day, a freezing cold blanket of fog will roll in around 5pm. this warm night makes me wish i had someone to hang out with, or something fun to do tonight. i'm hardly ever lonesome, i love spending time alone. but once in a while i feel it. like tonight. oh ho hum.

Sunday, August 23, 2009

we hate tyra banks.

last night i was at a bar in my hometown (where i'm on vacation) and this fag (i thought) started talking to me a lot. i was sitting on a bar stool and he was standing at the bar, and he kept leaning in too close but it was hard to scoot away from him since i was sitting on that tall stool.

the way i got stuck talking to him is that classic thing that happens where you are talking to someone you know, then one of their friends comes up and joins in and then the person you know sees someone else they want to talk to (or they're beckoned away, or whatever) and then you're stuck with this stranger to whom you've just been introduced but could give two shits about.

so i'm sitting on this stool and he's smothering me and wanting to tell me all about his charmed little life in my hometown. something about growing up rough and tumble somewhere and everything being hard all the time, yet still having this fiercely loyal hometown pride despite the fact of the town never having given you anything you didn't have to absolutely beg or bruise for, then having to listen to so many buddy holly bespectacled hipsters talk about how cool and quaint the town is makes me want to punch people in the face.

this kid works for a feminist magazine, and something about him being a "feminist man" and yet still feeling entitled to a job in publishing that should really and truly be being performed by a woman, and also feeling entitled to super invade my personal space, also made me want to punch him in the face.

i'm about to finish my cocktail and walk away when he starts telling me how he's obsessed with tyra banks and is writing a piece about her for the magazine. finally something semi-interesting in his lengthy monologue. he's getting excited about the topic, so he leans in even closer and i say, "could you step back a little, you're in my space a bit." and then i'm annoyed with myself. why do i soften things for people like him? why ad the "a little," and the "a bit," or even the "could you?" why not just say "step back please, you're in my space."

ANYWAY. he steps back a teeny tiny bit and i grab the stool with my legs and use the bar as leverage to hoist my stool over a teensy bit as well. between the two of us, we've made a few inches of progress.

i tell him how i don't really like his magazine that he works for, but that i will read it if there's a piece about tyra banks. i ask him what he's going to write about but he's not sure yet. it's just a subject he wants to tackle.

i tell him about the only episode of tyra i've been able to sit through, from beginning to end. it was a few weeks ago, where she had this super adorable little pregnant ho on the show. the girl was 20, she'd gotten pregnant and couldn't deal with having an abortion. likewise, the thought of giving her own flesh and blood up for adoption seemed tragic and un-doable to her. she didn't have a job and the baby daddy lived with his parents and wasn't willing to step up at all. she weighed her options, which were none. she had a lot of morning sickness and started showing almost immediately, yet still she toted her ass around town and applied for like 100 jobs, none of which wanted to hire a foxy little visably pregnant high school dropout.

long story even longer: she got a job at the bunny ranch in nevada, and she ended up being one of their most successful ho's. a lot of men, it turns out, fantasize about having sex with a gorgeous pregnant woman. (i can understand this as my own desire for sex with a lactating woman is so strong that i once made this little bra/holster thingy in order to hook up a juice-box of ricemilk to a girlfriend's tits.)

the whole hour was devoted to shaming this girl, telling her story after story about people who've made due with nothing, etc etc. she was like, "yeah, i know i could've had the baby and just been destitute and lived in a shelter. but i wanted to have a car and money for diapers."

i watched the show at work, of course, because that's the only place i ever watch daytime tv since i don't have a tv, and also because i hate it. the girls often just have it ON, though. and once in a while i get sucked in. plus when it's slow we like to have something to bitch about, and tyra is as good a topic as any.

so we yelled at tyra from the beginning to the end of the show. where most of the audience jeered the little ho, we took to her immediately. hers was a plight we understood: needing a lot of money, fast, and having little else besides your good looks to go on.

i told the guy that he should write about tyra's annoying way of pretending to be a feminist but actually being a fucking bitch who's totally willing to shame and dog other women for the sensation of it.

he said he was more interested in writing about how she's not a feminist because she spearheads the objectification of women by posing in her bra and panties all the time. i told him i didn't know how that would make a good story at all. pointless. been done. weird. not great.

he kept on leaning in on me and i pushed him and said, "i told you already: you're crowding me."

he took my hand, then, and said, "i'm sorry," and i noticed how tiny his hands were. this combined with his lack of adam's apple made me wonder if he was trans. but i didn't really care one way or the other. i just wanted to be away from him. his breath was hot and i didn't want him holding my hand. i really don't see how "get away from me" suggests that i want you to hold my hand. try working on your game, buddy.

i told him goodbye and he pulled me into an awkward sloppy hug. this also made me want to punch him. but instead, i just went home and crawled into bed with my on-again off-again (ex)girlfriend. she smells so good! especially when she's sleeping.

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

you rang?

yesterday was SO SLOW all day. there were three of us girls working: me, lily, and a really cute new girl named celestial who's kind of a modern-primitive/burning man/punker which can be annoying but for her just sort of works. she brings these cute little hippie lunches of rye crisps, vegan cookies, and avocados. also she's from my hometown, which endears me to her.


lily has somehow worked her way off of probation. i don't know if i mentioned this, but she almost got fired a few weeks ago and since then whenever she works, either gigi or jane will hang out in the house all day to keep an eye on her. but yesterday she was allowed to work alone: thank goddess. i don't think i could have sat in the house all day with gigi. jane's bad enough, but she was still out of town doing her tantric sex campout thing.


we three girls all got there right around ten because gigi's been SUPER INTENSE lately about getting there "on time." ridiculous. i hate it. but until i figure out a new gig i have to do things her way. anyway, we sat around from ten till noon doing nothing. painting our nails, etc. and then i had an appointment, which turned out to be the only appointment anyone had ALL DAY.


the guy was a mid-thirties dorkball with a stinky ass and no sex appeal. polite, though, and easy to get off.


when i got out of my session, the girls were watching a show about grisly unsolved missing persons cases. it was freaking me out. celestial had many stories of her own to share. a friend whose traveling partner killed her with a machete in mexico. two friends being drug off their bikes and raped and killed in new orleans. scary. grisly. finally i was like, "can we see what else is on?"


we tuned into Lifetime: Television for Women. where we were delighted to find a "wife swap" marathon. we fucking watched FOUR EPISODES, back-to-back, without the phone ringing ONCE. that's FOUR HOURS. totally crazy.


so then it was around 5. i went out for sushi. i ordered a california roll with tuna on top of it, but when i got it there was mayonnaise oozing out all over the place. i forget that sometimes sushi places put mayo in their california rolls. i couldn't eat it. i ordered an avocado roll. when i left i was still pretty hungry. i remembered that the girls had requested chocolates. i stopped and got some.


back at the house, the girls were lying on the lumpy couches, awash in lethargy and the glow of the tv. "geez, really?" i said. "no appointments still? this sucks and it's SO WEIRD. well here are your chocolates." their glazed-over eyes lit up. it's the little things, sometimes. 


another episode of wife swap began. our 6th, i think. molly polished off her bottle of wine. celestia finished her avocado. it was 6:15. i prepared to leave. i got a call, then, for an out-call. i don't usually do outcalls, but i am going on vacation today to my hometown for a week. i gotta get my mom's phone turned back on and take my little brother school shopping while i'm up there. plus, i'd like to have some extra money to play with.


anyway. the guy sounded nice and the call was for the hilton. lily was quick to point out that nice hotel doesn't automatically equal nice guy, but she also said: "do it, girl, it's slow!"


i agreed to do the out-call, making sure the guy knew i wasn't going to do full service. he said he wasn't looking for full-service and that i should come on over. so it did. but on my way i felt nervous. i'd be up on the 26th floor of some huge hotel, it kind of felt like ANYTHING could happen. my mind flashed to all the episodes of crime shows where some dangerous psycho calls for a hooker and that's the last anyone sees of her. kind of crazy to think that someone called for a hooker and that was ME.  


(you just can't think about movies or tv when you're about to do something potentially dangerous unless you want to scare yourself out of doing it. you can't think of law and order: SVU, or that scene in Leaving Las Vegas where the hooker gets gang-ass-raped. when i was working for the bachelor party company and they'd send me out, and i'd end up doing a two-girl sex show, sometimes i had to really focus on not thinking of that movie with jennifer connolly, what's it called--the one where everyone's addicted to speed and she goes to do the sex party?)


as i rode my bike over there, the cool night air refreshed and reassured me. it blew against my face in a way that said, "things are going to be okay!" plus, celestia left the house the same time as me and her boyfriend lives 4 blocks from the hilton. she's a black-belt in karate. i gave her the room number and she said if i didn't call her at precisely 8:45 she was going over there to kick the door in.


i got to the hotel. rode the elevator. knocked on the door. the door opened and i  breathed a huge sigh of relief when this adorable big-cheeked japanese businessman was on the other side. he was really cute and his eyes were not the eyes of a psycho. he was a little nervous, which added to his charm. i undressed him and got to work. it went fine. he wasn't gross at all. he came all over my tits, though, and it was really thick and messy. i didn't like that at all. but overall, he was great and gave me a tip, too.


so. my first out-call. and now: VACATION.

Monday, August 17, 2009

Friday, August 14, 2009

gigi is such a bitch.

yesterday was HELL. i almost got fired.

i think i've mentioned how we're supposed to be at work at the house at 10am, but that's fucking ridiculous and i usually shoot for 11, which STILL feels ridiculous because my appointments usually start around noon AT THE EARLIEST. and it's been really sunny so people haven't been starting to call until the late afternoon.

anyway, yesterday i was putzing around my apartment and i knew i should get up to the house, but i thought i might be able to slip through the cracks because gigi's been sick and jane was leaving that morning for this tantric love festival thingy out in the woods. so i thought i'd just turn my phone on and go about my business here at home till i had a REASON to go up to the house, i.e. an appointment.

so round about noon i got a couple of calls and i started to get my bag together and get ready to leave. i was about to step out the door when gigi called.

"WHERE ARE YOU?" she yelled.

"i'm on my way up to the house," i said.

"WHY AREN'T YOU THERE YET?"

"i was feeling kind of sick so i thought i'd head up there a little late. i've had my phone on, though, and my ad's up," i said.

"NO NO NO," she said. "this is NOT HOW IT WORKS. you didn't think to CLEAR IT with me or jane?! just thought you'd mosey up there whenever you FELT like it?"

as if that's just the most outlandish thing she's ever heard. 

anyway, then she went on a looooong tirade about how i'm not making them enough money and how it's this kind of careless attention to detail that is why i'm not a very good earner lately. i told her i never book appointments before noon and that it ruins my whole day to sit up there for hours and hours doing nothing. she got pissed about that, said there was A LOT i could be doing.

this led into a lengthy complaint about how gross the house has gotten, how we girls are a bunch of lazy slobs, how that's why she can't get any CLASSY girls to work there!!! "they take one look at the place and are out the door," she said. it reminded me of how my mom would get dumped by a boyfriend and she'd blame it on us kids and our poor housekeeping. "he took one look at this dump and i never saw him again," i remember her saying.  (she'd also use this excuse whenever we'd say "we miss you, can't you stay home with us once in a while," she'd say if we weren't such slobs she could bring guys home instead of staying away with them for days on end. it was so fucked up, because we were KIDS--like younger than 10--and we were responsible for all the housework and for raising each other.)

anyway thank goddess gigi's not my fucking mom. when she says that the house is gross, though, i just feel like: WHAT THE FUCK ARE WE PAYING YOU FOR? hire a fucking cleaner once a week or whatever. it's not my job to deep clean the fucking shithole apartment.

it was so super annoying to listen to her bitch and bitch because i still had a couple things to do before i could leave and it was hard with her on the phone, so she was only making me later and later. she went of on MANY different tangents. among them: you need new photos (and then, several ideas for possible photo shoots),  and you don't have any reviews (which she says must be because i'm not BAD enough to warrant a bad review, but am not good enough for a good review. "you must be pretty forgettable," she said. then she offered me lots of ideas for stepping up my game. "haven't you ever had a hairdresser that made you feel really pretty? you gotta be like that--just make each client feel very special." the thing about gigi is that she acts like you are retarded and so instead of just telling you something, she provides an example. and usually one example isn't enough to drive the point home, so she'll offer several. in this case, there was the hairdresser example, and then there was the bartender example, and also the salesgirl example. ENOUGH ALREADY YOU FUCKING CRAZY BITCH. SHUT UP SO I CAN BRUSH MY TEETH AND GET TO WORK. P.S. I HATE YOU).

the other tangent was that "the art of the hand job has been lost." oh blah blah blah. fuck you gigi.

anyway i FINALLY got to work. i called her from the house phone to tell her i was there, got yelled at some more. then had two clients. the first one was just some random guy who was really good looking but boring and entitled. the second one, though, was RAD. he was smelly and fat, but super charming. i didn't like massaging him, but i did really enjoy talking to him. AND he brought me flowers. weird ones, though. he wanted to impress me by not giving me typical flowers because he's more thoughtful than that. i would have preferred pretty, regular flowers. but it was the thought that counted. AND after the massage, he gave me a gift--some GORGEOUS earrings that he had made! he makes jewelry. these earrings are super cute! i put them on right away. usually when someone gives me anything to wear (which is hardly ever, actually), it's terrible and i have to pretend to like it. but these are really great.

yeah. so. nothing else happened that was interesting. lily got halfway-fired for always being so drunk at work and for missing a shift without calling. also this bitchy co-worker of ours said she feels "unsafe" with her at work. now she can only work when gigi or jane is there to supervise her. but yesterday it was just me and angie working so she came in. she didn't have any calls, though, just ended up drinking a bottle of wine and passing out on the couch for several hours with her pants down. strange pose! but it was good to see her, i'd missed her.

Tuesday, August 11, 2009

lost blog entries #4

10. WEDNESDAY, JULY 15, 2009 "vacation."

so. i'm in new york right now catsitting for a friend who lives in chelsea. her apartment is really nice and her cat's cute, but i'm feeling pretty homesick. it's hot and my only good NY friend is in bolivia and i just feel over it.

the other night i met a girl at a party who seemed really hot but turned out not to be. she looked really cute at the party and smiled at me a lot from across the room before coming up to me and introducing herself. when i told her my name, said she'd met me before and asked whether i still had that boyfriend. i told her she was thinking of someone else and that if she wanted to know whether i had a boyfriend she could just ask. so she blushed and said, "do you have a boyfriend?" i said, "no." 

that part was cute. and then we danced a bit and after a while she wanted to go get a cocktail at the standard. it's pretty there and you can sit outside. on our way there we met some cute girls who were visiting from mexico city. one of them, in particular, was pretty hot. they came with us to the standard. we had a drink there and then the mexican girls wanted to go dancing so we all went to this other club and when we got there it was a huge sausage party and i didn't want to stay but the mexican girls did so we left them there and went to a fag bar in the west village to sing karaoke.

i put a song in and they KJ refused my tip. he acted super appalled, like i had insulted his sense of moral decency. i wasn't like i was trying to grease his palm to get a spot in the only remaining lifeboat off a sinking ship--i just wanted my song to come up before i was too drunk to sing it. and the truth is that where i live you HAVE to tip the KJ's or else they'll never play your song and you'll be stuck listening to frat boys' caveman renditions of "funky cold medina" all night long. people: THAT insults MY sense of moral decency.

i went and sat at the bar with the girl. she talked a lot and was somewhat interesting, although not terribly. mostly i was watching her mouth move. she had a good-looking mouth. she looked a little like a more polished rachel maddow. hotter than her, but at the same time not as hot either. anyway, she also had amazing cleavage. she was butch with these nice big tits. her shirt had come unbuttoned a little and i just wanted to rip if off her and smoosh my face in between her tits.

we made out. she was a really good kisser, but then she started telling me i was trouble. "what do you mean i'm trouble?" i asked. she told me she had a girlfriend and that i was trouble. i was like, "if you have a girlfriend and you're making out with me, then it's YOU who's trouble. duh." then she said she was totally allowed to make out with people, just not to fuck them, but that she wanted to fuck me and therein the trouble lied (did i say that right? arg). (...and therein lay the trouble?) (anyway. you get it.)

right around that time, my song came up! i went up to sing and the host said, "here bitch," while handing me the microphone. i said, "i'm not a bitch. how dare you call me that?" sometimes fags think their misogyny is cancelled out because of the fact that they're fags. or that their misogyny is totally justified in a fag bar, because what the fuck are girls doing there anyway? anyway, the host said, "okay. you're not a bitch. now sing." but my song had already begun and his insult had delayed my singing, so i demanded to have it started over. i said, "why should his rudeness ruin my song? i've waited for over an hour?" so the KJ started it again. luckily, my song was good so even though everyone hated me at the beginning, they loved me by then end.

i went back to the girl at the bar. she said my fit had embarassed her. i told her she could fuck off. she apologized. so. we made out some more, even though it was against my better judgement. but i was very very extremely drunk and she was a good kisser, if a bit rude, so it was fun until she started putting her hand up my skirt. i moved it. we made out some more. she put it up again and started rubbing my clit through my panties. i was like, "hey. i don't want you to do that. first of all, we're in a bar. second of all you said you're not allowed to do that. if you wanted to get it on, you shouldn't have told me that because now it's not an option." i.e. if you're gonna cheat on your girlfriend with me, don't TELL ME. talk about a turn-off.

anyway she persisted in putting her hand up my skirt. she felt like a customer all of a sudden and i told her i was going home. she insisted on walking me. i think she thought i'd invite her in. but i didn't. i felt bummed out and annoyed.

what is it with people putting their hand up my skirt lately, anyway??? the other day i was on my way home from the airport. i had gotten off the train a few blocks from my house and was walking home when this random gross guy came ambling toward me. he didn't appear to be homeless, but was shirt-less and shoe-less, like he had taken a bunch of drugs recently and just ended up that way. i was wearing this big fake-fur coat and a really short skirt. i guess looking back now, i can see that i looked like a "hooker" who wandered off the set of law and order: SVU. anyway, the guy comes ambling over to me and says "what do you do for a living?" i was surprised, caught off-guard by this man who was suddenly directly in my face. "I SAID: WHAT DO YOU DO FOR A LIVING?!" i told him to back up, get out of my face. "ARE YOU A WHORE?" he damanded. "I'M LOOKING FOR A WHORE." i backed up from him and he grabbed my arm. i screamed, "let go of me! I DON'T KNOW YOU!!!" i
wriggled free from him and took off down the street. did i mention that it was broad daylight?

so then i was around the corner, on a busier street. there were TONS of passersby. i felt like i could slow down for a second. i stopped for a second to catch my breath and calm down. it didn't occur to me at all that the man would've followed me, but suddenly there he was again, right in my face screaming you whore! you whore! i yelled, "STOP FOLLOWING ME!!! this man is stranger!" nobody stopped. people just walked right on by. the guy shoved me up against the walgreens and stuck his grimy hand up my skirt. i pushed him as hard as i could and as he staggered backward i tore off running down the street with my heavy suitcase.

i felt really bummed that nobody tried to help me. fellow humans can be quite disappointing sometimes.

11. (the date got cut off for this one) "back at the table."

hi there. today was my first day back after over a week off. it was a long but lucrative day.

when i first got to work there was some drama involving the house-key, which we keep in a little secret lockbox.  i don't think i've written about one of my favorite co-workers, the ultra-tanned athlete we'll call angie. she's pretty great, if a bit gruff sometimes. she's the one who introduced me to the concept of "taking one on the house," which basically means to take an appointment without writing it down in the book (and then keeping the house's cut). this thought had been knocking around in my head for a bit, but i wasn't sure how loyal or tattle-tailey the other girls were so i waited for one of them to mention it. and then one day i was working with angie and she said, "listen: today we're each gonna take one on the house, you cool?" to which i replied, "as a cucumber."

anyway this morning angie came to work and opened the box with the secret code and there was no key. so she called our boss, jane, who of course flew into a panic. i don't know what kind of story jane made up to get the superintendent let angie in, i'm sure it was involved. she's the kind of person who includes too many details in a normal true story so i can only imagine what an earful her lie would be.

so. angie got in. when i arrived she was doing laundry and didn't hear me knocking. so i looked in the box and there was the key! when she came out from the laundry closet and saw me tweezing my pubic hair (i just got waxed, but they did a shoddy job) she practically had a heart attack. "how did you get in?!" she said. "with the key," i said. so then we realized that whoever had had the key had put it back in a rush without anyone noticing, and that the person was probably in the house all night and morning, presumably taking many an appointment on the house. annoying that whoever it was would let angie knock and knock on the door and then stealthily sneak out and replace the key. weird. just the kind of thing that adds to gigi and jane's crazy paranoia and will probably make them hang around more at the house. THANKS A LOT, CO-WORKER.

there were three of us girls working today. me, angie, and the most adorable little french au pair who doesn't make very much nannying and has found a nice little hustle on the side.

i had four clients. the first one was a regular. nothing too interesting about him: polite, horny.

the next one was a new guy. a big italian guy who was recovering from a nasty sunburn. i realized this when i was massaging him. his skin felt gross, totally peely and bizarre. i looked at my hands and realized they were covered in little bits of his peeled skin. i tried to ignore it, but it was too gross. i considered giving him back his money, but then i remembered there were some gloves in the drawer. i put them on and told him his peeling sunburn was just too much for me. he was okay with the gloves. he wanted to tell me a lot about his fantasies, all of which grossed me out to the XXXtreme. one of them is that he has three women, stacked up like a sandwich, and he fucks them all randomly. they never know which of them is getting fucked next because they're blindfolded. i thought it was a stupid fantasy and totally lacking in practicality. if you were on the bottom, you'd be miserable. it would be super uncomfortable to have two other people piled up
on top of you. and it would also be uncomfortable to be in the middle. on top, you'd keep having to try not to fall off the heap. the LAST thing any of these girls would want was a hairy dick coming at them, at random.  all that discomfort for this one grody guy's fantasy. blech.

also he wanted me to sit on the table with him in a tantric pose called yab yum (where you face each other and have your legs crossed indian-style around the other person). he wanted to rock together in yab yum and exchange energy. i told him that sounded too intense for me.  i hated him and won't take his call again. i've saved him under "NO tony."

the next one was another regular. a big guy i like a lot. he's HUGE. i wrote about him before, the one upon whose back i feel like a cellphone charm.

and then there was a tall, toothy older gentleman. he was nice. couldn't get off, but had a nice time. blamed his penile disfunction on his advanced age instead of on me, which i appreciated.

and then i went to the gym but didn't have it in me for a big workout. i did a quickie then ate a giant meal with sky and we shared a beer and read a true-crime story to each other about a genius identity thief who scammed her way into harvard and columbia. she was really really smart, though, and pretty likeable. anyway after we were done reading sky wanted a hug and we ended up sitting sort of "yab yum." i was glad i hadn't forever ruined that pose by sitting that way with my client's dick on my leg and his gross fantasies in my face. i liked having a nice long hug with sky instead. i guess we did exchange a little energy, too.

12. TUESDAY, JULY 21, 2009 "nobody knows."

have i mentioned that i've been going on dates with a trainer from my gym? she's really hot and fun, but sort of extremely... i don't know... um, normal? maybe i mean mainstream? i'm not sure but what i do know is that i don't want her to know about my job, because i have a feeling she'd trip. i like the thing that's going on with us, which is good food and fun sex, and i don't want to ruin it.  i feel like if she knew, she wouldn't like me anymore, and wouldn't want to date me. so that's one scenario. here are a few more:
-she'd pretend to be fine with it, but would be tripping. 
or,
-she'd be judgemental and tell me how much better i am than that, etc. 
or,
-she'd fetishize it and things wouldn't be hot and fun anymore. 
or,
-she'd be okay with it at first but would eventually become weird.

plus, she'd probably tell her friends. and i don't want people except for my close friends to know. i feel like it's something i'm doing for a while till i get out of debt and get something better going. i have other things i'm really good at and well-known for, and i'd rather this be something private.

so. that said, it's been a little tricky never to talk about work with her, especially since i've been working a lot and thoughts of work have seeped into my private life. 

she does know i have a job because one day she wanted to hang out but i told her i had to work. as soon as i said it i wished i had made something up. but i really don't like to lie, i feel like it always comes back to you and also it ruins things that could be nice. a couple days later she was talking about her job and then she wanted to know where i worked. i said, "oh up in xxx (neighborhood)." but what was my job? she wanted to know. i said something like, "oh, it's boring. not worth talking about." i said it in an offhand tone of voice, but with a tiny firm edge that suggested i was done talking about it. she looked kind of confused for a minute but was willing to drop it.

we hung out again after that, we had a nice dinner date and super fun sex. i was at work the next day and she texted me something like, "last night was nice." i smiled when i got the text and went to do laundry, replaying key scenes in my mind as i folded towels. her tits smooshing my face, her hard nipples between my teeth, her pussy giving my hand a hug when she came. 

a bit later i realized i hadn't gotten a call in hours. i decided to run a TGIF special, $160 instead of the usual $180. it's only $20 less, but it does get the phone ringing sometimes. so i texted jane to see if it was ok. the text said, "it's so slow! not even one customer yet today. can i run a special?" as soon as i hit "send," i knew i had made a terrible mistake. my phone had been sitting on the table, open, from when i'd read the text from ...we'll call her nisa... and i guess i had hit reply and then NOT replied, but gone off and done laundry. my head was all sex and money and when i went to text jane, i texted nisa instead. i had a tailspin panic. FUCK. FUCK. FUCK. i said. i texted nisa again, but this time, "haha, that wasn't for you. i had a nice time last night, too. xo."

it was a dumb mistake, the kind of thing that seems like your subconscious set you up for it on purpose. like when you are stressed out trying to plan a surprise party so you accidentally say something to give it away so you won't have the stress of having to make sure it's really a surprise. i think maybe my subconscious hates keeping secrets and does its best to out me at every turn. 

anyway, after that i went on vacation and didn't see nisa for a bit, but we had a date on sunday night. it was nice, we had sushi and then went to her house and had sex. she tried to get me to stay the night, but i'm just not so much into sleepovers. i feel extremely sexy toward her, but not lovey, and snuggling all night would feel too intimate. i'm sure to some people this might sound strange, like how is sleeping next to someone any more intimate that having your hand up their cooch? i don't know, i just feel that it is. 

so she took me home and in her car she said, "you workin tomorrow?"

"yep," i said. "are you?"

she didn't say whether she was working. she knew i was trying to deflect, and wasn't gonna let me. "so where do you work? you still haven't said."

i guess i could've just made something up. but even though i didn't feel close enough to her to stay the night at her house, she has this way about her that's sweet and open, and i would just feel shitty. so i said, "my job's kind of weird and i don't like talking about it too much."

"hmm... okay. well, let's see if i can piece it together. i know it's somewhere that you can run a special," she narrowed her eyes and tapped her finger against her mouth, pretending to think hard. "so you're selling something. or doing something. or... or... help me out here..."

"i'm sorry, nisa. i don't really want to talk about it. it's not interesting and i'm just a bit private. okay?"

"oh," she said, seeming a little bummed that her guessing game had ended without finding out what the answer was. "okay."

i know people reading this will probably think, "just tell her, she won't care." but as normal as i think this job is, the truth is that MOST people think that sex work is wrong and gross and that girls who do it are trashy, and my gut is telling me that nisa is one of these people. my gut's slso telling me "you're getting laid with a hot girl who likes you, don't wreck it." so.

when i was in new york i hung out with my best friend from high school, lark, who has been working on and off as a call girl for several years now. she asked if i was dating anyone and i told her about my crushes, and about nisa from the gym. i told her that i didn't want her to know about my job and she advised me to absolutely not tell her. i told her about the stupid panicky text and she laughed and told me about accidentally sending jon an email from "sexylulu21@yahoo." 

i thought she was talking about her stepfather, jon, and i was like, "omigod! what did you do?"

"i just told him it was from my old account from when i worked the phones at the escort agency."

"he KNOWS you worked there?!!!" i couldn't believe my ears.

"well, YEAH," she said. "of course."

"wow, i can't believe jon knows about that," i said, still trying to wrap my head around it.

"JON doesn't know--oh hell no. i'm talking about JAN!"

ohhhhh. okay. makes more sense now. JAN is her boyfriend. but wait a minute, her live-in  BOYFRIEND doesn't know she's a hooker?

"no way. and i don't want him to find out. ever." she said.

i kind of couldn't believe that. wow. dude. that seems like such a hard secret to keep from the person you love, who you live with. it just seems like they would have to figure it out at some point. on the other hand, though, if it was the farthest thing from their mind, why would they even suspect it?

the girls at my work were talking last week about how nobody knows about their job at the house. they all have boyfriends, and NONE of their boyfriends know, except for lily's, who acts sort of pimpy, calling and calling all day long and checking her progress. but the other girls all keep it a secret. one of the girls has been with her boyfriend for 6 years, since they were 19, and he doesn't know. we all have to be super quiet when she calls to check in with him and see what's for dinner. he thinks she's a receptionist in a doctor's office.

that day the girls all agreed that if any of us ever got arrested, we would pool money and all chip in for bail. (KNOCK WOOD). good to know, though. i often forget that you can be charged with prostitution for doing massage, and that actually people DO get arrested sometimes. entire houses have been busted, it totally happens. and if no one in your life knows you're a ho, your whole LIFE could be busted if you had to call your family or boyfriend to bail you out. so. now we've got our asses covered in that department.

okay. well, i'm going to bed now. gotta work tomorrow.

13. THURSDAY, JULY 23, 2009 "shiny legs and narrow escapes."

hi. yesterday was exceedingly slow. i only had one client. i've seen him before and he's clean and polite. he's married and doesn't bother to remove his wedding band. something about that tiny act of honesty and shamelessness endears me to him.

he booked an hour and a half appointment, something i don't usually offer because my little arms just get too tired. when he asked for the hour and a half, i initially told him no and that i just get too pooped. he told me he wanted to spend the extra time massaging ME, so then of course i said yes.

i gave him his massage and release and then we took a shower and i put a fresh sheet on the table. he gave me a little massage that wasn't deep or amazing, but was pleasant. then he mentioned that my legs seemed dry so he rubbed a lot of coconut oil into them. it felt great. so relaxing and unexpectedly sensual. this guy has a nice way about him that isn't gross or lecherous at all. it's easy to like him.

nothing else too interesting happened yesterday. angie and i got talking about some of our wild and scary experiences in the sex industry. she told me a story about going out on a call for an escort agency and when she got there the guy was super creepy. i forget what they said to each other but when she got scared and tried to leave, he chased her down the hotel hallway. the elevator was ten floors up or something and she didn't have time to wait for it. so in true horror movie fashion, she scrambled down the stairwell. he caught up to her, of course, and began strangling her. i should mention that this whole time she was actually on the phone with her dispatcher, who right then said, "did you give him the money back? give him his money back!" she had tucked it into her bra and was able to reach it and then--this is genius--distract him by throwing it up into the air. he let go of her throat and pawed through the air to catch the fluttering bills.
GENIUS. 

angie was still a little bit new to the ho biz, so when she got outside she said, "i have to hang up  now, i'm gonna call the police!" her dispatcher was like, "no honey. don't do that. we'll take care of it." the next day they called to say that they had her money and a note of apology from the john. i guess that would be the obvious advantage to working for an agency--that they would send someone to "take care" of things for you.

i told her i wished i had someone to "take care" of this grody little man i used to see, years ago, who stiffed me once when he couldn't get it up. it was the very first time i hadn't collected up front, and it was also the last time. he followed me out of the hot tubs until i yelled at him on the crowded sidewalk: "cross the fucking street and stop following me! bring me my money and then we'll talk!" sure enough, he did show up to the strip club where i worked with my money. he wouldn't give it to me right away, though, insisting that i meet him after work for dinner and to "talk things out." this is the point at which i would've had someone take care of it.  instead, needing the money, i did meet him. and i ordered a huge expensive meal and several cocktails.

i didn't really have any good stories compared to angie's. hers were full of drama and action. like the time she and another girl had to escape from the cops at a rowdy bachelor party by crawling out the bathroom window. oh, there were lots more stories but they're angie's and not so much mine to tell you.

other than that, it was a quiet day. except that gigi kept calling all day long to yell at angie. gigi had been hounding angie for a few months to get new pictures. so she finally got them, even thought the person gigi insisted that angie go to charged $300, which was out of angie's pocket. anyway they turned out really great and she gave them to gigi to blur the face out so she could put them in her ad. well, gigi didn't blur the face out, but put them up on the internet anyway. angie wanted her to take them down, but gigi wouldn't.  she kept insisting that angie would make a lot more money if the face was in the pictures. angie was like, "i don't care--i don't WANT my face on the internet!" so then angie just took them down herself. and then gigi was PISSED. she kept calling and saying things like, "are you saying that my 20 years of experience in this industry means nothing?!" and "you have to start doing better! i didn't hire you to sit around my
apartment doing nothing!" such an intensely crazy person.

then she said she was going to drop by and bring us flowers. which we dreaded all day and then she didn't even show up. she does this all the time--says she's going to show up and then doesn't. we think she does it on purpose so that if we're fucking up we'll clean up our act in case she actually does show up. which happens--she does show up sometimes. and whenever we think there's a chance she'll show up, we DO clean up our acts. boring.

working tomorrow. i'd like to have three or four clients. i wanna make some CASH. every time i get close to having enough for that much-needed new tooth, something else comes up. like rent. or my phone bill. or. or. or.

14. FRIDAY, JULY 24, 2009 "TGIF."

today was slow till i ran a TGIF special, then the phone rang a bunch. my first client was... hmm... who was it. i don't really remember now, isn't that strange? i mean, i don't remember anything about him. how totally bizarre. well. i do remember that he tipped. also he had dark hair.

the next one was a double with lily. it was a really good looking guy from burma. he must've been about 30 and he had a round little bubble butt with two deep dimples above it, like a cartoon baby. i like doing doubles with lily because she's so extremely sexual that i can give the massage while she rubs her body on the guy, and then we flip him over and he comes in like two seconds. there's still usually a good 20 minutes left but the guy doesn't feel ripped off at all because he came so thoroughly. anyway the guy today was hot. lily ended up making out with him and then he grabbed me and tried pulling me toward his face but i turned my face away. i am 100% not into making out with my clients. i don't care how cute they are, it's just not my jam. at all.

the next guy was also really good looking. a british guy with surprisingly pretty teeth. he sort of looked like hugh grant and had the same charming accent. and the same penchant for ladies of the night, it would seem! haha. he was in town on business. he seemed stressed out. i said, "how nice that you get to travel for your work." he said, "hmm. well, that's ONE way to look at it." i liked this guy. he was super easy, said nice things, and was a big tipper.

and then, as a punishment for having two hot guys in a row, my last client was rather yucky. a tubby man with extreme body odor and TONS of body hair, though hardly any hair on his actual head. i strongly offered him a shower, which he declined. he had an agenda. he wanted a lap dance first, and then to come in his pants, and then to take a shower and have his massage. so i gave him a massage and jerked him off through his pants. "i want to come in my pants," he said. "i brought an extra pair." he wanted a lot of dirty talk which can become exhausting after a while, but since he tipped upfront i didn't mind. the annoying thing about him was that after he came in his pants and took a shower and got a massage, he wanted to be jerked off again. but he had shot his gun and now it was out of bullets, so to speak. (would it be more descriptive to say that he'd spilled the milk and now his bottle was empty?) anyway he could BARELY get it up for round two but
was moaning and carrying on and saying things like, "yeah baby. beat it." he was fucking sickening. anyway my arms were about to FALL OFF by the end. i wanted to kill him. what a greedy little pig.

so then i was done. and i cleaned up around the house. did some laundry. took out the trash. i had to leave lily passed out on the couch again. i tried to wake her up as i was leaving, but she said "noooo." i was like, "honey, i'm taking off. you gonna be okay?" she goes, "please call stanley. i mean... henry. please call robert? um...zzzzzzz" i said, "LILY. i'm leaving now. you're on the couch. at work. not at home. wake up, honey." she opened one eye and said, "oh. hi mandy. i'm just going to sober up now. for a little bit. kay. g'nite hunnnny." so at least she knew where she was. i gave her a little kiss and covered her with a blanket. put a glass of water on the table for her. i didn't like leaving her there, but what could i do? she's reminds me of my mom sometimes, the way she loves to sleep on the couch with the tv blaring.

wow i'm SO TIRED now. just yawning and yawning. gonna go to sleep. i don't know HOW people have jobs AND social lives. i can't go anywhere or do anything after work. i just want to eat and pass out. anyway: g'nite hunnnny.

lost blog entries #3

7. TUESDAY, JULY 7, 2009 "my first tuesday shift."

today was a good day at work. the crazy pimps weren't there, which was a really good thing because we watched the michael jackson memorial on tv and all three of us girls who were working were touched. we all cried when paris cried and said what a good daddy MJ was and how sad she was that he had died. 

i would've hated to have to listen to gigi repeat any of the shit she was saying the day we all found out about MJ's death. how he was a waste of a human life and all that. how he deserved anything bad that he got. when she was talking like that i just had to take a breath and leave the room. it was too much for me. i thought back to hours earlier, when i had been at the gym with sky. she was watching the news on the gym tv and when she found out that michael had died, she fell off the treadmill in shock and came directly over to me with the news. "michael jackson died," she said, her eyes wide and a-twinkle with the sad non-comprehension particular to such tragedies as this one. "what?!" i said. "michael jackson died," she repeated. i was in shock, too, and i was uncouth: "was it a heart attack," i wondered, "or was he shot by one of the dads of the kids who used to sleep over at neverland?" sky looked at me in disgusted disbelief. "it was a heart
attack," he said, and went back to his treadmill.

anyway, i was glad not to have to deal with gigi today when we were all feeling mournful. i mean, i NEVER really like having to deal with her. but today would've been Too Much.

it was a pretty good day today. my first appointment showed up and when i asked that we take care of the business before the pleasure (i.e. fork over the cash, please), he got this panicked look on his face and began patting his body all over, as people do sometimes when they realize they've lost their wallets. he turned his pockets inside out very cartoonishly, and then tore through his bag. "i've lost it!" he proclaimed. "i've lost my wallet!" and then he gave me a hopeful little look, like maybe i was gonna say, "oh, well--you're already here, you may as well stay." instead, i held the door for him, "perhaps another time, " i said.

i was polite, but super annoyed because another guy had called wanting that particular time, but i was already booked. so. annoying.

so then i sat around a bit. read one page of my book. drank my diet coke (it's poison, i know--but also stripper nectar--refreshing, caffeine, no calories). and then a guy called who i'd seen before, john.  he's a really good looking guy, tall and dark with a lean, muscly physique and good skin. he's a surfer. he tells me i have great energy. today i gave him a good massage but he couldn't come. it was so strange. toward the end, he said, "i'm not going to be able to come. i think i came a little bit before and have been riding a long plateau that's not ever gonna be a volcano." what a poet. "are you bummed?" i asked.  he said, "no. it was great."

next was a super nerdy guy named simon. kinda bossy and particular, but nice. and entertaining in his geekery. he had a lot of blackheads on his back, not my favorite. but other than that he wasn't gross at all. he wanted to squeeze my ass a lot, not unpleasant as my ass has been a bit tight and could use a massage. i had to remind him a few times to be gentle. he was sort of an excited puppy. he really talked a lot, too, but i liked him. he reminded me of a super nerdy girl i once dated who was similarly bossy and particular. simon preferred to come whilst standing. shot all over the carpet. i cleaned it up, don't worry.

next was a teeny tiny guy who seemed HELLLLLLA gay. he was late because he stopped to buy me a starbucks gift card. what a sweet thing to do, i wonder how much is on it. i wish all clients knew that it's little things like that that endear us girls to them, that make us want to give them that little something extra. that bit of extra time or attention, that tiny bit more leniency with their straying hands.

anyway, like i said: HELLLLLLLA gay. or at least: HELLLLLA bi-sexual. he was so tiny and so shy, but managed to work up the nerve to tell me that he was feeling a strong connection with me and that he'd like me to maybe fuck him in the ass with a strap-on next time. i made him think it was a definite maybe, but i'm not sure whether i'd really be too into it. i don't like to do things with clients that i actually enjoy in my real life. when i used to jerk off all day for guys in a fantasy booth, it ruined my masturbation life for a long time. and i faked so many, many, hundreds of orgasms that i became self-conscious about expressing myself during REAL ones with my lovers. i would hear myself actually coming and wonder if that was what i really sounded like, or whether i was still sort of performing. it was weird. i had to get over it, and for the record, now when i really do have an orgasm, i don't let myself think about sounding real or pretty or wild
or hot. i just enjoy it and trust myself to sound however i'm gonna sound. the organic orgasm. haha.

anyway. after the tiny guy i was done. and my co-worker crammed my bike into her SUV and gave me a ride home: a rare treat.

i'm working again tomorrow. with my co-worker lily. last week when i worked with her, she got so drunk that she passed out naked on the lumpy couch and would not be awakened or moved. i worried that she'd get a crink in her neck, or wake up in the middle of the night, panicked and alone. i tried and tried to wake her, but she wasn't having it. i hated to do it, but after trying to rouse her for twenty minutes and her saying "leeeeave me aloooooone" over and over, i finally did end up leaving her that way. i covered her up and put a giant glass of water on the coffee table next to her. i called the house a few times when i got home, but she didn't pick up. i hope she's not pissed or embarassed when i see her tomorrow, but i'm not too worried about it.

gonna snuggle up in my bed and watch true blood now.

8. WEDNESDAY, JULY 8, 2009 "stinky guys, wino cuties, and pee play."

so. lily isn't mad and the gift card was for $20. just to keep you up to date on the wild and fascinating details of my workday.

oh, wednesday. it's been SLOOOOOOW today. i didn't even have one appointment till 5:30 and then i saw a regular, a super nice man we'll call bill. he's very very tall--6'5''--and like many extraordinarily tall men he has a penchant for tiny ladies such as myself. when i sit on his back and rub his shoulders i have the feeling of being his little cell phone charm or something.

today bill had B.O. which wasn't great, but was bearable. not like this other guy, micky, who i have saved in my phone as "NO.Micky.NO!" he smelled SO BAD, i mean TERRIBLE, and was covered in a thick coat of curly fur that got all up under my fingernails. plus, he had very pimply skin. in short: the whole experience was horrifying and it's one i don't ever want to repeat, ever. i won't take a call from him no matter how slow it is, no matter how broke i am. even if my cell phone bill was due and i didn't have the money and they were going to fucking shut it off tomorrow, i wouldn't take his call. likewise this other guy who's in my phone under "ben--NO!!!" ben was a nice looking guy, super polite, but uncircumsized and once i pulled back that foreskin it was ALL HELL BREAKIN LOOSE. i had to suppress a gag the whole time. just when i was considering giving him his money back and sending him on his way, he came all quick and gushy and hopped in the shower.
BLECH.

lily has been cracking me up all day. she's 3/4 through her second bottle of wine. a bit of an alcoholic, but i don't feel sad for her because she seems pretty happy and anyway, we all make choices in this life. well, i guess i do feel a little sad sometimes when she's at the end of a bottle and is tipping it over and waiting patiently for the last two drops to roll into her mouth. something about the look in her face right then breaks my heart a little bit, although i kind of couldn't tell you why. but mostly she's just a happy go lucky functional alcoholic and i really like working with her. she says funny things a lot, like today she went out to buy some wine and when she came back, she flipped on the tv and sighed in a breathy bedroom voice, "oh tv, i can't stay mad at you."

i think she likes me too, which is a good thing. i like having co-workers who like me. i mean, if you have to go somewhere to make your money, there should at least be people there who are happy to see you. she was a little cold to me for a while after she thought she might have bedbugs and i refused her a hug goodbye last month, but we got past it.

oh. i gotta go drink a giant glass of water. i have a guy coming in for golden showers. he wants to be my toilet slave. not my favorite, but it's pretty slow today.

9. SATURDAY, JULY 11, 2009 "goths gone wild."

so. that pee guy came in and he was really strange looking. sort of corpsey. extremely pale with dark circles under his eyes, and hair that looked like a wig but wasn't. maybe i've been watching too much vampire stuff. but i was hella nervous. i put him in the shower and went out and told my co-worker to make sure and leave the tv on really loud when she left so my guy would think there were other people in the house. 

he turned out to be totally fine, just pallid with badly bleached hair and maybe an iron deficiency. he talked a lot. it was kinda creepy when he started talking about his business trips to china, how the girls are all over him there. when he said he had to beat them off with a stick, it was hard not to picture it literally. with absolutely no conjuring, this picture popped up in my mind of him walking all zombie-like, wielding a cave-man club against adorable chinese schoolgirl pornstars. 

other than that, though, he was okay. after his massage i put him in the tub and he drank an EXTRAORDINARY amount of my pee. it was running out of the corners of his mouth, and he was gurgling a bit here and there as he tried to keep up with my stream. it was gagging me a bit to watch, but everyone has their weird thing they like i guess. or, well, at least some people do. i was happy to make someone so happy just by peeing.

when i came into the living room after putting the guy back in the shower, my co-worker was still there. waiting for me. all her appointments were done but she didn't want to leave me alone in the house with a potential creep so she waited! i thought that was just SO extraordinarily sweet. and then she insisted on giving me a ride home again. i suspect that she might be a bit lonesome, the way she's never in any big rush to get home.

yesterday was gonna be my day off. i was planning to sew all day and pack and do all kinds of things, but jane called and wanted to know if i could work because both girls called in sick. i'm feeling a little overworked and tired, but since i'm leaving tonight for a week-long trip to new york, i figured i'd at least post my ad and see if anyone called.

i got three calls all at once, and was able to book all three in a tidy little row. that's the best way to do it, obviously, because then you can just show up, work a bunch all at once and then leave. no sitting around on the lumpy couches.

nobody that super interesting came in.

the first one was a very fit chinese man with a giant tattoo on his back. i liked looking at it while i massaged him. and he gave me a tip. 

the next guy was pretty old. i get nervous sometimes with old guys, i want to give them as good a massage as i'd give anyone, but on the other hand i don't want them getting TOO excited, if you know what i mean. i don't do any tease/reward stuff with them, i don't want their hearts to do a lot of speeding up and slowing down. so i just get 'em up and get 'em off. this old guy was nice. also a tipper! 

the last guy was one i've seen before. a GIANT man with a lot of freckles. he's nice. he talks A LOT about very non-sexual matters and yet still gets it up. it's so strange to me--i can't imagine having an orgasm while talking about my favorite buffet in vegas.

after that, i rode home and while i was passing city hall there were all these people dressed as zombies with signs that said things like, "i want to eat your brain." i didn't know what their point could possibly have been for picketing outside city hall. they were screaming at everyone who walked/rode/drove by, but it was hard to understand what they were saying. i thought, "goths gone wild," and that made me laugh a lot. then i turned onto market street and found myself in a big pack of 12 bikes, and nobody was with each other--it seemed to be 12 strangers riding together. i pretended for a moment that i lived in one of those countries where everyone bikes, where there are more bikes than cars. i've never been anywhere like that, but i did like biking in key west where there are tons and tons of bikes on the road.

last night i went to my friend's house and made dinner. i brought a movie, "the reader." i thought it was going to be an idyllic love story and it was, but then the plot turns and it's sad and kind of stressful. good, though. a great movie.

and now, off to the gym and then to pack and then to the big apple. yay!

the lost blog entries #2

4. FRIDAY, JUNE 5, 2009 "return of the panty sniffer."

well, i've worked a bunch since i last wrote. i've had some interesting clients. one of them was a veterinarian who was very polite and even gave me a tip, but whohad a giant amount of foreskin, and when i pulled it back his dick was weird and slimy. i had to suppress a gag the whole time. i put him in my phone as "yuck," so i will know not to answer if he calls again. anyway, it was my birthday last week and i went out to brunch with a friend. we went to a crowded restaurant two blocks from my house and the vet was there, sitting at the table next the only open table. i don't think he saw me. i turned around quickly and said quietly to my friend, "turn around. we're not eating here." my friend didn't make a scene, luckily, and when we got outside he said, "oh, did you see someone you know from work?" i like being friends with perceptive people.

i want you to know that it's not that i dislike this veterinarian or anything. i just didn't want to eat my birthday brunch next to him. and i don't want to see or think about his slimy dick ever again.

another guy i saw was this teeny tiny man with a giant scar on his back and NO NECK. super weird-looking, poor thing. he was sweet, though, and nicely dressed.

and last night i saw a white guy, from SF, who now lives in japan but was here on business. the thing about him, though, is that he's totally adopted japanese mannerisms. like i asked him a question and instead of saying "yes," he said, "hi."

OH! and i saw a guy who i sold panties to once on craigslist!!! i couldn't believe it--it was absolutely 100% the same guy. i wrote about him in my blog a long time ago. i'm going to paste that story in here:

Monday, October 06, 2008

panty sniffer.
last night i was feeling terribly broke. i turned on my computer and was surprised and delighted to be able to hop onto my neighbor's wifi. i looked at craigslist. the "etc" jobs. nothing good. i looked at erotic services and saw that a man was looking for panties. $40 per pair. i emailed the guy and instead of giving me a lot of email runaround, he said we should meet right away. he said how about 3:30 tomorrow at xxx coffee shop on xxx and xxx? he said can you please put on the panties now and don't take them off till you come to meet me? he said if you have a minute could you try to masturbate in the panties between now and then and get them good and "crunchy?"

so i went to peet's to meet him today. when i walked in the coffeeshop, there were a LOT of men drinking coffee and i realized we should perhaps have decided upon a certain code-word or visual signifier. i felt overwhelmed for a minute, but then i looked around more carefully at the coffee-drinkers. many seemed to be with co-workers on a break from the office, or else they didn't fit the description the guy gave: "white, regular looking guy." hmm... and then i spotted a guy waiting for the bathroom who TOTALLY looked like a panty sniffer. he was all skinny and geeky and shifty looking. he had a creepy vibe, speedy, and he was wearing scratched-up shades. inside. i tried to make eye contact with him but he was too shifty. the more i looked at him jumping out of his skin in the line for the bathroom, the more i decided that he was not a panty sniffer. he seemed more like a drug fiend waiting to shoot up in the bathroom.

i sat down at a table near the door. i waited maybe three or four minutes and then here comes this UBER normal looking guy wearing a plain black t-shirt and grey cargo shorts. he looked like he just left the gym. he got in line for coffee and i as soon as i looked at him and thought, "that's him," he turned around and gestured suddenly to me. it was a funny little gesture. a series of gestures, actually: he used his index fingers to sort of trace the outline of a pair of panties. this was followed by a thumbs-up, and then a dramatic, quizzical raise of the eyebrows as he jerked his head in my direction. it was charades, yet somehow also very subtle. i nodded and he came over and sat at my table, grinning broadly.

"wow, you're really hot. i didn't know what you would look like, but this is good. this is good," he said as he passed me the magazine he was holding, a newsweek with a little paper bag tucked in the cover. "take your time," he urged. i took the bag to the bathroom. inside: a ziplock baggie and $40. i wrangled myself out of my boots and jeans and took off my undies. i know i could have just brought a pair of panties in my purse, but i wouldn't have felt right about it. i mean, the guy was paying me for dirty, recently-worn undies. i didn't see any reason i shouldn't just give him what he was paying for. when i got my panties off, though, i sniffed them and realized they smelled pretty clean. they definitely smelled like they had been worn, but they were nothing special. i haven't particularly felt like jerking off lately and i just took a shower last night. excuses, excuses. anyway, i peed and then wiped with them, thoroughly, which didn't get them
smelling exactly post-coital, but was better than nothing.

i went back to the table and asked the guy to come outside with me. there were a few cops eating their muffins and drinking their mochas and i didn't want them to see us conducting a transaction. it would seem like drugs, and then would turn out only to be panties. i just didn't want the possible hassle. also, i didn't want to sit down at the table with him because who knows how long he might have trapped me in conversation? $40 is great for a pair of panties. but not for a pair of panties AND a lengthy conversation with someone who is about to go home and wear your panties as a ski-mask while he jerks off.

i gave him the bag. "here you go," i said. he smiled conspiratorily, "i can't wait to get these home," he said. i noticed that the skin on his face was strange. it didn't look like it had always been face-skin, and there were three long seams in it. i wondered what had happened to him. he really seemed nice and i hoped he hadn't been attacked by a dog. but i mean, really, could any accident that required skin grafting be that much better? i realized that i was totally staring at him. i snapped out of it. he didn't seem to have noticed. "okay," i said, smiling. "hope you like them. bye now!"

and that was it. quite possibly the easiest $40 i have ever made. let's hope he turns out to be a repeat customer.

5. TUESDAY, JUNE 30, 2009 "head bitches in charge."

hi there. so. i was going to write in this blog all the time, but i kept forgetting the password for it, but i remember it now. so here goes.

i've been working a lot over the last month or so. i really like all the girls at the house, but the two boss ladies are So Annoying.

let's start with "gigi." okay, first of all gigi is one of the very most negative people i've ever met. EVER EVER EVER. she has some health problems that contribute to her general mood, but i think even if she was healthy she might be a dark cloud. she doesn't come in very often but when she does, it's EXHAUSTING. she starts complaining about everything the moment she walks in the door and doesn't stop till she leaves. everything everybody does sets her off. the other day it was that i was wearing garnier fructisse hair mousse. apparently it's a product to which she is allergic and i should have known this because it COULD KILL HER.

in addition to being chemically sensitive and a giant debbie downer, she's also really really bossy. if you have a slow day, she'll start harping on you incessantly about how you need new pictures. or she'll make you post a personals ad and then look over your shoulder the whole time, telling you how to do it and what to say. she'll literally say things like, "oh don't forget to press the space bar after that sentence," or, "if you want to capitalize something, press the shift bar and the letter you want at the same time." basically she thinks everyone is totally retarded so she has to tell you, in painstaking detail, how to do even the very most basic things. i can't stand her and neither can any of the girls, but instead of quitting in a huff every day, we've all just become adept at providing her with a list of stock placating phrases like, "oh, okay. i'll do it that way," and "oops, i didn't realize. it won't happen again." or the ever-popular,
"good idea. i'll try that."

the good thing about gigi is that she doesn't come to the house very often. she does, however, call to bitch A LOT. usually whenever the house phone rings, everyone races to answer it because even though you describe all the girls to potential clients, they usually just ends up choosing whoever answered the phone. whenever gigi's name comes up on the caller ID, though, we all dance around the phone yelling at each other to answer it. whoever ends up taking one for the team always takes a deep breath before saying, "hello."

the other boss, jane, is around more often. she's annoying, as well. unlike gigi, though, she isn't super negative. she's a lot more easy-going, but is an energy vampire nonetheless. she talks A LOT and your level of interest in her monologue is of no consequence to her. it's really really annoying. i don't care about her sexual proclivities or her "lovers" or what she fucking did over the weekend. in fact, when i'm in-between clients, i just want to lay on the lumpy couch and read my bette davis biography. or check my email. or close my eyes and have thoughts in my head. sadly, she makes all of these things impossible with her boring invasive prattle.

like gigi, jane is a micro-manager to the extreme and it can get pretty rude. like once lily and i went to lunch and when we came back lily sat down to eat the other half of her sandwich, which had some onions on it. jane said, "i see your sandwich has onions. i'd like you to brush your teeth when you're done because onions make for extremely unpleasant breath." i thought lily was going to say, "NO FUCKING SHIT LADY," but instead she said, "okay. i always brush my teeth after lunch. but thanks for the reminder." best to be polite in the face of savagery, i suppose.

i really hate being bossed around. in fact, it makes me totally crazy. and it makes me do little things that remind me that actually I'M the one in charge of myself. so, like, if jane writes something in my ad and then says, "you can look over this for spelling errors, but don't change the wording," i'll fix the spelling (which is invariably atrocious), but then i'll also re-arrange practically every sentence. if she's typed, "your pleasure is my delight," i'll change it to, "your delight is my pleasure." this is ultimately more work for me, changing everything around, but i don't mind. i do this kind of shit all the time with her, but i can't think of any more examples right now. except for the best one which is that jane and gigi both have a super huge (and necessary, given their multiple busts) sense of paranoia so they do all these things a very certain way and have a whole slew of safety rituals. i get it, and i totally stick to most of them because
i don't want to get arrested any more than anyone else does. but there are a few that aren't even useful at all. anyway, when i was putting jane's number in my phone she had been bossing me SO BAD all day and i was just hating her so much that day. and she goes, "don't put my number in your phone under 'jane,' put it as something like, 'dave's cleaning.'" as if i'm going to have the number for a dry cleaner in my phone. anyway, i stored her number as "jane's cleaning." and for some reason that subtle defiance makes me laugh a little bit every time she calls.

okay enough about them. i'll write more later.

p.s. today i saw the cutest little punk boy. he was probably 27 or 28. he was the first person who's ever paid with ones. he had really great tattoos. i won't describe them because they were really unique and even though nobody reads this blog, it's best to keep these things private. but i'll just say they were GREAT TATTOOS. and fun to look at while i was massaging him.

also i saw a GIANT older guy, he was 6'3'', but seemed bigger. and then a tiny asian man with SO MUCH straight black pubic hair. it was extreme! sooooo much hair. somehow it wasn't gross, though.

more another day. xo andi.

6. THURSDAY, JULY 2, 2009. "crazy pimp."

so. yesterday i went to work and my back and shoulders were KILLING me. like: bad. anyway, i was working with this girl, julie, who is a CMT. she gave me a massage once a few weeks ago and it was AMAZING. so when i saw that she was working i got excited because i needed a massage SO BADLY. she charges a dollar a minute for friends and co-workers, which i actually think is quite a deal.

the schedule was pretty booked yesterday so we only had time for a half-hour massage. i got so excited about it. and then gigi called to say that she was on her way over with some new towels and since she was on crutches she needed us to come out to her car and get them. so we waited. and every minute that ticked by was a minute off of my massage. she finally got there and we unloaded all the stuff and then she started to freak out about something, i don't even know what. and there was a parking space right in front so she came in.

dread.

anyway, julie and i still had time for a 20 minute massage, so we went into room 1 and she started to work her magic. we were in there for about 30 seconds before we heard gigi's annoying holler: "julieeee! juuuuuuuuuulie!" so julie went out to see what the deal was, and then she came back. i said, "what's going on?" she said her client was half an hour early.

i sighed and began to get up from the table. "oh, bummer."

julie was like, "oh no, it's okay. lay back down. i told him to come back."

well. apparently this pissed gigi off To The Extreme because when we were done with the massage, the Shit Hit the MotherFucking Fan. "don't you EVER turn a client away," she yelled. "i'm so mad i can't even THINK straight! i can't even BELIEVE this!"

it was terrible. i offered: "well, you wouldn't show up for a dentist appointment half an hour early and demand to be seen, would you?"

gigi HATED this. she said, "we're not exactly a DENTIST'S office, now are we?"

julie said, "well, no, but our time should still be respected. i shouldn't have to drop everything just because someone wants to show up early."

it went on and on and eventually ended in us placating gigi and telling her it wouldn't ever happen again, blah blah blah. so boring. gigi's such a crazy pimp. i hate the way she talks to all of us girls. it's so gross.

the lost blog entries. #1

so, remember i said i erased everything in a paranoid frenzy? well here it is, again. just because.

1. SUNDAY, MAY 24, 2009

a bit of backstory.
i'm broke. i know everyone is broke, that this economic climate isn't something that's happening to me PERSONALLY, but still: it sucks. i had a job that i don't want to talk about here because i don't want to give away too much about my identity. but anyway, the job was someplace i worked for 7 years, under the table, and it was not something you could put on your resume. it was great and i loved it. but some things happened and i stopped making money there and then i moved away for a while and now i'm back and anyway: now i'm broke. as in: NO MONEY. i had to borrow money to pay my rent last month. my credit card is maxed out. i don't have even one dollar in the bank.

i'm so broke that i don't even have money for things like conditioner. my hair has lost its lustre. i have been drinking my coffee, a beverage i usually relish as a vehicle for honey and soymilk, BLACK. when people call and want to hang out and re-connect with me since i've been gone for 8 months, i have to pretend to be busy because i don't want them to know i can't even afford a taco or cup of coffee. and i've been washing my face with regular soap! using body lotion on my face! and, the horror, PAINTING MY OWN FINGER- and TOENAILS!!!

the obvious thing to do would be to GET A JOB, right? so i made a fictitious resume and brought it to a bunch of bars and restaurants, hoping to land a bartending or waitressing job. no calls. i've been trawling craigslist and have gotten a few little things, a focus group here, a one-day babysitting job there. but i needed a job where i can earn some CASH. so i answered an ad that said something like, "seeking serious, money-minded girls 4 massage."

i have a bit of experience with "massage." last year i moved to a faraway state and things went well for a while. i was getting a bunch of modeling gigs and random other gigs and for a couple of months things felt great. and then all of a sudden everything just stopped. i burned through my tiny amount of savings and was suddenly penniless. a friend of mine was going out of town just then and she had this sugardaddy she didn't want to lose. so she made up this whole story wherein i was her sexy cousin, in town for a few months, and would he mind showing me around and taking care of me while she was away? this was perfect for her because i promised to give him back when she returned, and this way he wouldn't just finding a totally new girl. it was good for me because i had no other plan for cash. and it was good for him because he was OBSESSED with her and liked to make her happy, and she convinced him that taking care of her sexy cousin would make her
very happy. plus, he had "needs."

so. i was supposed to call him on a certain day, and i did, and we made plans for me to go over there the next day. i remember the first time i went to his house. he answered the door and was a lot less unattractive than she had prepared me for. don't get me wrong--he was not, by any stretch of the imagination, "cute," but he was a lot less gross than she had made him out to be. so, that was a relief. he made me a cup of tea and we sat on the couch in his living room. he asked me lots of questions, and then after a while, i did as my friend had suggested and switched into "sexy vamp" mode. this guy was big on feet and stockings so i had worn fancy stilettos and nude fishnet thigh-highs with black seams up the back. (i hadn't had any money for a cab, so i wore boots on the subway and then changed into my heels around the corner from his apartment, a nice little trick except that you have to be sure to bring a purse big enough to cram the boots into.) i
said, "wow, my feet are achy. would you mind rubbing them a bit?" and then, you know, i oohed and ahhed and he undid my garters and took off my stockings and swished his big meaty tongue in between my toes, etc. i remember i had to try really hard not to look grossed out. at one point, he had almost my entire foot in his mouth, and i remember supressing a gag.

after a while, he suggested we retire to his bedroom. i told him to go get comfortable, that i needed to use the bathroom. i peed and then purposely didn't look at myself in the mirror as i washed my hands. i didn't know what i was afraid i'd see, but it seemed a good idea not to look. on my way from the bathroom to his bedroom, however, i accidentally caught a glimpse of myself his hallway mirror. what i saw was a tiny, perfectly made-up girl in lacy underwear walking purposefully into a bedroom to lie down with a guy for money. i read a quote once about being careful who you pretend to be, because that's who you WILL be. (i wish i could remember who wrote that.) anyway, i had felt sort of like i was just pretending to be engaging in sexual favors for cash, that i was dressed in costume as a "hooker." but it occurred to me as i passed by that mirror that "this is what a hooker looks like."

as i walked into his bedroom in my little lacy outfit, i paused for a second in the doorway. i had the feeling that i was crossing over into someplace new, and i felt a bit nervous and reluctant about it, but i also felt excited to get it over with. i'd known for YEARS that i could make a lot of money as a hooker. i'm a lesbian, but guys fawn all over me. i'm tiny and fit and pretty. when i was a stripper i was CONSTANTLY being propositioned by guys. if i'm ever wanting to get drunk, i can go into any bar and guys will buy me cocktails. i'm not bragging here because trust me, i know this isn't anything spectacular to brag about, but i'm just telling you: i've known that i could make money from guys but haven't wanted to do it, and yet have had it in my mind as a back-up plan for quite some time. here was my chance to see if i could do it.

this chubby, hairy man beckoning me from his bed wasn't very alluring, but the fact that rolling around with him for an hour would make it so that the next day i could pay my phone bill, get a metrocard, and put some groceries in my lonely fridge certainly was. i had been feeling backed into a terrible financial corner and here was a chance to get out of it a bit. plus here he was, all sprawled out on his giant bed, staring at me lasciviously and motioning for me to join him. i felt like the easiest thing to do would be to just climb up on that giant bed with that giant man and get it over with.

so i did. i laid in bed with him, sat on his face, let him suck on my toes, tortured his nipples at length, jerked him off. he wanted me to do "full service," but i just couldn't bring myself to do it. (btw, i think to a lot of people hooking means insertion of a penis into your vag or anus, and maybe i'm using the word "hooker" too liberally and it's not mine to use. but getting into bed naked with a man and rubbing myself all over him and talking all kinds of filth and making all kinds of noises and jerking him off feels hooker-y to me. so if you don't like it quit reading.)

anyway, jerking him off was gross at first. his flacid penis with its dry, reptilian skin and giant ball sac looked like a crusty tortoise to me. and then when his dick would get hard, it was like the turtle was coming out of its shell. eventually i convinced him that i fetishized black latex, so then i'd wear gloves when yanking on his turtle. something about not having to actually feel it with my actual hands made it considerably less gross. plus, he was a nice guy, albeit sort of condescending. and he was generous: $250 per date, which was often a nice dinner and then an hour of playtime. he didn't even make me talk sexy with him over dinner, he just wanted normal conversation and companionship. he liked being seen out in the world with a hot girl and i don't even think it occurred to him that people assumed i was his hired date. i didn't like the looks people sometimes gave me, like they knew what i was up to and found it to be distasteful, or like
they felt sorry for me for having sunk so low. but then i didn't let it bother me too much. i mean, i LIKE fancy food and drinks but it's not something i could afford to indulge in. i liked it that if i read about a restaurant and wanted someone to take me there, he would. and i liked making $250 for an hour's work.

we had a nice arrangement for a while. but after about five months on easy street, this man suddenly announced that he was abandoning the snow for his other home, which was several states away. he had somehow become my only income, so then i was broke again. i couldn't stand the cold anymore. i was lonesome and very homesick. i hated the dumpy house where i was living, and my subletter wanted to move out of my apartment so i came back to sunny california. penniless. that was a month ago. i was back home for a week or so, and then i answered the ad.
POSTED BY ANDi AT 7:28 PM

2. SUNDAY, MAY 31, 2009

shift one.
so. i think when i left off i was just about to start telling you about getting the job at the massage parlor. i came back from far away and was super broke. i answered a million, zillion ads on craigslist and ended up having an interview with this woman from the massage parlor where i now work. let's call her "gigi."

i met up with gigi at the coffeeshop downstairs from my house. she had initially suggested that we meet at this restaurant that only serves a hundred different varieties of french fries, but i thought that was weird and suggested coffee.

gigi was over an hour late to meet me. i would've just left, but she kept texting every five minutes to say she'd be there in five minutes. it was pretty annoying. but desperate that i was, i just kept sitting there reading mary carr's "the liar's club," and waiting. i wanted to drink cup after cup of coffee, but i only had enough money for one cup. i tried hard to make that one cup last till gigi arrived so i could sip on something during our interview, but how can you drink one cup of coffee for an hour?

when gigi finally arrived she was harried, irritable, and not even a tiny bit apologetic about keeping me waiting so long. she had a mess of papers that she was clutching to her chest and they were all getting wrinkled. if i had to guess, i'd say she was about fifty with high cheekbones and full lips. she looked like an aging movie star, actually. i don't want to go into too much description even though nobody's probably even reading this, so that's all i'll say about her appearance. she asked me some questions about my sex work background. i told her i had danced, seen some private massage clients, and worked briefly in a dungeon (which i will tell you more about later). she asked me what appealed to me about working in massage. i didn't say i actually thought i'd probably hate it but was so desperate i'd try almost anything. i think i told her something like i was tired of sex work where there wasn't any connection with the clients. she seemed pretty
woo-woo, so i told her i was interested in seeing if i had any talent at tantric massage. she liked me and offered me a job.

i went in for training a few days later with the other proprietress of the massage parlor, "jane." jane has a super sexy high voice and sounds hot on the phone, and then in person is a bit troll-like. super short with a strange little face. she, like gigi, wears hippie shoes.

there was another girl being trained that day. we'll call her lily. lily is tall and blonde with a bit of a fucked up grill. sweet, though, but bizarre. she's a loud mouth-breather and she sighs a lot. she kind of makes a lot of little noises, all the time.

anyway, jane had lily disrobe and lie down on the massage table. she demonstrated some massage techniques on her and then i copied them. she took the left side of lily's bod and i took the right. lily passed out about five minutes into her massage and began snoring loudly into the face cradle. now that i've gotten to know her, i realize that she was almost certainly drunk. jane found this to be annoying and kept waking her up, "lily. ...lily! how does that feel? how's the pressure?"

"oooh, it feels wonnerful," lily would slur. i liked her immediately.

then it was my turn on the table and i was looking forward to it because my body wound pretty tightly and i've got a lot of knots that could use some attention. but my massage was a bust. lily kept yawning super loud. and then came down with a case of extreme hiccups, which she didn't bother trying to quell with water. instead she just kept letting them sneak up on her and saying, "oop," as if each hiccup was a unique surprise. it was the opposite of relaxing. and by that i mean that it was rattling. plus her touch was jerky and inconsistent. i was glad when it was done.

my first actual shift was scheduled for a few days later. i dreaded it. i hate being new. i don't like men. i felt super bummy that i was having to do this, but mostly i was dreading it because i haven't been having sex at all lately and it seemed really tragic and fucked-up to me that the first sex i was gonna have in months and months was gonna be for money.

there was a girl i was hanging out with a little and it seemed like things were going well until a couple nights before my first shift, when she invited me over really late at night for what seemed to me like it was gonna be a booty call. i got there and and we made out a bunch, but then she went on this whole thing about how she feels confused, blah blah blah, we're good friends and she doesn't want to ruin it, etc etc. i was like, "what's confusing you? are you attracted to me?" she said she was. "well, what's confusing about that? let's get it on." she said she wasn't sure it was a good idea. it was pretty annoying and also a bummer because she lives in a super sketchy neighborhood out in an industrial area where most taxi's refuse to venture. i had gotten a ride out there in the first place, and now it was 4 in the morning and i was stuck there till morning. sleeping next to someone who doesn't want to have sex with you is THE worst. and it's
something that's happened to me a lot in my life. i'm not going to let this happen again with anyone, it's SO STUPID!!! so bad for my self-esteem and sexual prowess.

after that, i felt even more sad and dejected when i went in for my first shift. the shifts there start at ten AM, which is really annoying. jane was there to train me and there was another new girl who i'll call sarah. jane created profiles for sarah and me and posted them on a sex services website. while we waited for to people to start calling, she sat us in front of the tv to watch videos on how to give a good handjob. i started feeling sick. like, "am i going to be able to DO this?"

sarah was also looking kind of nervous. after the video, she suddenly popped up and said she needed to go get something to eat. she left and didn't come back for a really long time. like three hours or something. i figured she must have decided to quit before she started, but then i noticed that she had left her laptop bag sitting next to the floppy, uncomfortable couch. (this couch is such a piece of shit! it's the middle part of a sectional sofa set, so it doesn't have any arm rests. and it's two little pieces shoved together, but they come apart all the time and then there's a gap. i hate it).

jane was freaking out, "where is she? where IS SHE?" she called sarah no less than twelve times during those three hours. when sarah finally came back, she didn't really have any explanation for her disappearance, except that she had run into someone she knew while on her food run. i expected jane to fire her on the spot, but jane just said, "well. don't let it happen again." i sort of suspect that if sarah wasn't so super-pretty, she would probably have been fired.

the phone rang a few times and i had an appointment at three and sarah had one at four. jane showed us how to set up the rooms, how to work the boom boxes (duh), how to warm up the coconut massage oil in hot water that you warm up in this one particular mug in the microwave. she insisted that we each carry a notebook and stressed the importance of writing down and remembering every single minute detail of everything she was showing us. when it came to writing down how to turn on the boom box, i just wrote some squiggles. my mantra for the day started to become, "fuck you, lady."

before our appointments, jane had sarah and i try on our sexy outfits for her approval. mine was deemed "perfect." sarah's scraggly little teddy was pronounced unfit for work. jane took her upstairs and rifled through a girl's bag who had quit (presumably in a huff, but who knows). sarah came back downstairs looking rather demoralized in a crappy little crushed velvet dress that was two sizes too big for her and gave her the waifish exploited look of a pubescent hooker. also jane had said sarah's lipstick was too light, and had put some gross maroon lipstick on her, which really didn't go with her brown sugar skin at all. she'd looked so much prettier in her own peachy-pink gloss.

so then we sat a while longer on the weird lumpy couch and waited for our appointments. when mine came my heart was in my throat. i felt really bummy that this is what things had come to. i went to the door to let my guy in (that's what we say there--"my guy" as in, "i'm gonna go let my guy in." "is your guy still here?" "my guy smelled like ass." etc.).

when i peeped through the peephole, i was surprised to see a young, good-looking guy. i opened the door and led him into the massage room, feeling super relieved that my first client wasn't gross and was, instead, a bit of a fox. he was medium-height with a full head of dark wavy hair. kind of an indie-rock guy, with cute fashion and a handsome face. i collected my donation and went to turn on the shower for him. i went downstairs and put the money away. when i came back he was done showering and had laid down on the table, face down with his face in the face-cradle.

i tried to replicate the massage jane had shown me. my guy seemed to be into it. he was very quiet but every now and then he'd say ooh or aah. i didn't dislike massaging him at all. his skin was nice and his body was perfectly toned. i timed it out so that i spent about forty minutes on his backside, and left twenty minutes for the other side. that way, even if he came fast we'd have used more than half of the hour and he wouldn't feel ripped off. before i turned him over, i climbed up on the table and sat lightly on his ass while i massaged his shoulders a bit more. i asked him if he liked feeling my pussy against his ass. he said he did like it. i kind of writhed against him a bit so he'd be hard when i turned him over. i didn't want to have to start from scratch with a floppy dick. so then i turned him over and tried out some of the strokes from the tantric handjob video. they worked like a charm and after a bit he came. i was grossed out to have cum
all over my hand, but i told myself to get used to it. i scrubbed the hell out of my hands while he took a quick shower and then walked him out, thinking, "that wasn't so bad."

i did my chores, cleaned the bathtub, took out the trash, all the while jane was micro-managing me To The Extreme. and finally i got to leave with a hundred and ten bucks (it's 180 per dude and the house keeps 70. i feel like it's a pretty fair split). i was stoked to have some money in my pocket and relieved that that first client was done with. i felt optimistic about maybe starting to not be so broke.
POSTED BY ANDI AT 2:45 PM

3. MONDAY, JUNE 1, 2009

rainy days and mondays always get me down
hi there. here i am at work. it's dreadfully slow. my phone has only rang once all day and it was somebody wanting a brown shower. no way, man, there are some things i just won't do. not to mention that i deal with my bathroom business in the morning and then the shop's closed for the rest of the day, if you get my drift. and by that i mean that i only "drop the kids off at the pool" once per day. once in a great while it might be two trips, but hardly ever. hmm... what other humorous euphamisms can i think of for going #2?

speaking of euphamisms, i was at this event the other night and someone asked me what i do for a living. i didn't know what to say, so i said, "oh this and that." which just sounds totally fishy. a friend of mine was standing with me and when the weirded out person walked away, she said, "just say you teach english." i guess that's an age-old euphamism for saying you're a sex worker. i had no idea, but it's a term i shall employ next time.

i also learned this weekend that "friends of dorothy" means you're a lesbian! i can't believe i didn't know that already.

yeah. so. it's monday. and i'm short on my rent, which is due TODAY. luckily there's a three-day grace period. but nonetheless, i really need my phone to start ringing off the hook.

last week i was working on a slow day and a co-worker of mine offered me some garlicky hummus. i was hungry, but i thought it would be a terrible idea to eat hummus (which my sister calls "fart paste") because then i'd have garlic breath and, most likely, gas. so i said no thanks. well then i sat here for another hour or so and the hummus was beckoning me from the fridge so i thought, "oh what the hell," and heaped a bit atop a ricecake. i was delicious and no sooner had my stomach began to gurgle from it than my phone started ringing and didn't stop all day. i ended up making almost five hundred bucks that day.

so maybe eating garlicky hummus while waiting for customers at a house of ill repute is like lighting up a smoke while waiting for the bus.

oh jeez. come on, ring!
POSTED BY ANDI AT 1:05 PM