Masochist me/Becoming an escort

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Revision as of 06:01, 15 March 2017

I could feel my eyelid twitch.

"I could make you happy," the customer in front of me said.

My mind churned with all the comebacks I could give.

"Yeah yeah, heard it before, from like every other guy to come to my counter."

"Yes, you are such a wonderful guy, and I would never find someone better."

"Because you are a master in bed, and can take me to a whole different level."

"Sir, would you mind moving along? The line is backing up." I told him, putting on my fake smile and not sound like I was gritting my teeth.

"Hey, it's all good. I have money. Just quit. I will take care of you." I groaned at how close that came to some of the other pickup lines.

"Sir, would you mind moving along? The line is backing up." I told him, still wearing my fake smile. This time, I wasn't sure if I actually hid the sound of my teeth grinding.

"No. Sorry, I am staying here until you say yes." I thought about calling over the manager, but by this point, I was so sick of this.

"You know what?" I said. Probably never a good thing to start with, especially at work, but I was so tired of him I didn't care.

He stood there, an expectant look on his face.

"First, you are not my type. Second, you are shopping here. At a discount store. And you think the line 'just quit, I will take care of you' is going to fucking work on me?" Now the other customers were paying close attention.

"You know what? Stay here. I don't care. I am done." With that, I took off my store apron. "Yeah, you are so original. Not like I haven't heard the same thing from so many other customers. 'Oh, cute cashier, must hate her job, I will rescue her, and she will not be able to resist me.' Yeah, right."

By now, everyone was staring at me, completely and totally shocked. I looked over the waiting line. "So, admit it. How many of the guys in line here are in my line because you want to hit on me?" None of them said a word, and I could see the manager coming over to see what was happening. "Fuck you. Go hit on a prostitute. She might fucking say yes." The manager arrived as I finished. I could see his eyes almost popping. "And you, you fucking sick little man. Trying to peek in the women's changing room, watching us out of the corner of your eye. You are probably going to end up in the paper after kidnapping and killing some woman. I quit." I threw the apron at him and walked out.

The interviewer just stared at me for a minute.

Interviewer: Really? Wow, just...wow.

Me: Yeah. So, I found myself jobless. And college isn't cheap, even with student loans. I guess I sort of snapped a bit there, but, that was the last job I had.

Interviewer: Wait, so, I am confused. You got fed up with stupid questions and guys hitting on you?

I nodded.

Interviewer: And went to work for a job where guys actually do hit on you, and it is expected?

Me: I don't think you really understand. When I worked at a job, I expected to be treated as the job was required. A cashier does not get paid to flirt with customers, to put up with their pick up lines, to be solicited for sex. I don't care if you think escort is some negative job. I expect to be treated correctly for my job.

Interviewer: Okay, think I got it. So, since you were just there to do one thing, you didn't like having to put up with all the other things.

Me: Exactly. Proposition me for sex as an escort, I expect it. Proposition me for sex as a waitress, and yes, I also worked as a waitress, and slapped one guy who pinched me. Another short lived job. Anyways, right time, right place.

Interviewer: But, you specifically said that you get pleasure from being humiliated.

Me: Again, right place, right time. And, do you think it is humiliating to be hit on over and over and over again? Tell me, as a journalist, do you get certain jokes? Or maybe some joke about your name?

The interviewer nodded.

Me: Yeah, so is this off the record? Probably shit like this. Is it funny? Humiliating? Probably none of it, correct?

The interviewer nodded again.

Me: Exactly. Sort of like your question about what the difference is between an escort and a prostitute. It gets old. I bet there are many comparisons someone can make about any profession that are unflattering. And, if I got those propositions today, which I do, and much more, I would handle it professionally, because they are part of the job.

Interviewer: So, I guess I still do not understand how you actually became an escort.

Me: Well, I looked for jobs about a week later, but most I was trying for I wasn't qualified for. A couple weeks after that though, we had a class on the sex industry in one of my classes, and examined all the social stigmas, taboos, risks, whatever. Anyways, one of the guest speakers was an escort. I think that the teacher was actually one of her clients. Well, she talked about it, and, being at my wits end and having no idea about what to do about money, started talking to her. What is an escort? What do you do? What is expected? Yes, I even asked her what made an escort different from a prostitute.

I wanted for some snarky comment. When none came, I continued.

Me: Anyways, so she told me. Not just what she had told the class, but more. At the end, it really didn't seem that bad. When she told me how much she makes, my eyes almost popped out of my head.

Interviewer: Really? She made that much?

Me: Well, it was her own business, with a few other girls, but yes. First, let me ask, you, with your journalism degree, working for the magazine, how much do you make?

Interviewer: Well, it all depends on the story. We get paid a flat salary of two thousand a month, and then an extra fee depending on the stories we bring in. Normally I make around three to four thousand a month, and have made almost six thousand before.

Me: She made about fifty thousand a month.

The interviewer stared at me like I was lying.

Me: My first month, I made about two thousand. After about three months, I was making about five to six thousand a month. But, the real money started when I left the agency and went independent. Now, I average about thirty to forty thousand a month.

He gave me an incredulous look.

Interviewer: Your lying.

I took out my phone, expecting this, and pulled up my bank account transaction history. I thumbed down the screen, letting him see the deposits into my account, all marked with my escort service name.

Me: See, the business degree also helped here too. Every escort has their own special services. Me, well, as you can guess, I tend to be very popular with bee dee es em clients. You tend to find also that these clients tend to be...more powerful, or at least see themselves as more powerful. So, a sub is actually rather attractive to this alpha type of person. Believe it or not, when I quit the agency, I actually thought about getting out of the escort business. I had finished up my social psychology degree, and went to work as a social worker.

Interviewer: Really? But,t hat seems like it would make a pretty good career.

Me: The money can be okay. About what you make. And I wanted to make a difference. You know, help the poor, help the kids, all that. But, you don't realize the level of abuse of the system. I had clients coming in, driving fifty thousand dollar cars, to pick up their welfare check. I saw rampant abuse of the system, and some of the most disgusting people I have ever met. True, there were many that were truly in need, but it sort of gets to you when somehow, the clients are living better than you are. I got tired of it all. But, I had already left the agency I was with, so decided to save up my money and do it myself. Thus, I ended up becoming an independent escort. The first couple months were slow, as my advertising started getting out there, getting people interested, but it took a while, and honestly, starting that business class, to find out what I was doing wrong, and learn how to do it right.

Interviewer: So, it has been a couple years, and you are already doing this good. But you hinted before, that you do not have a job. What do you mean?

Me: I mean, my business does not feel like a job to me. I have to work, don't misunderstand. And, people are still people, so I still see lots of stupid people. But, I mean that it feels more like...a social lifestyle. I guess that is the best way to put it.

Interviewer: Go on.

Me: You look at me.

I stood up and turned around slowly.

Me: What do you see? I mean, what do you really, truly, honestly see, if you saw me for the first time.

This time, I stood up again, walked around the room a little, almost modelling for him.

At first, he did not understand, and just sat there, watching me. Then, something clicked.

Me: I see, you get it now.

He nodded.

Interviewer: I guess I need to apologize. At first, I didn't honestly pay that much attention. I just saw a pretty, young woman, and after you told me you were an escort, I guess I just sort of lost track of what was in front of me. I think escort, I think of someone with too much makeup, too much perfume, in some sleezy outfit. Pretty much the same as a prostitute. Now, truly looking at you, I see an attractive young woman. Smarty dressed, but still sexy. Not slutty, but...refined. I see a confident stride. I see someone well spoken. I see someone intelligent.

Me: Exactly. Again, I am an escort. I am paid to be a companion for someone. Sometimes, that is something simple, like a date. Other times, it is something...much more intimate. But, I am not someone who is really good at the relationship thing. So, when I work, it is like going on small, one night stands. As I said, I do actually need to do work. Before I take a client on, well, before my agency takes a client at all, they have a questionnaire to fill out. It can be...rather personal...we want to make sure the right person is matched to the client. Then, the escort who is paired with the client has the right to take him or her, or decline. It will continue until either someone accepts the client, or until everyone is given the option. If no one wants the client, they are politely declined. Although, there have been a few I have agreed to when everyone else rejected, if they accept a female escort anyways.

Interviewer: Wait, what? I thought all escorts are female?

I shook my head.

Me: I employ both genders. I have gay, straight, and bi male and female escorts.