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."
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.
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