Grand Plans

So it’s 23 minutes until my birthday and I find this wholly depressing. I couldn’t say why, I’m not alone. I’ll have friends and presents and good food tomorrow. But just thinking about my birthday fills me with an deep, clenching depression.

As usual my life marches on at an incredible rate. Things have changed utterly in the last two months, as they did the two months before that and the two months before that. I have become a business woman. I have left the massage parlour I worked for and I now work purely for myself. I take my own calls, make my own bookings and I keep all my own money. I didn’t realise how much money I was giving away to the parlour until I left. I make as much seeing one client for one hour as I did seeing two clients for an hour each at the parlour. And I might have to sit in that fucking room for 8 hours before I got those two clients. Now, I just have my phone on and go about my daily life. If someone wants to see me, I get in my car and drive over to them, and once I’ve seen them I carry on with my daily life. For now I’m doing “outcalls” only, meaning I see men at their house or hotel or even boat a couple of times. I have grand plans, though. I want to get me an apartment, where I can see my clients. And I want to get other women working with me. I wanna start my own escort agency. Massage parlours are making utterly gouging profits out of sex workers, and most of them are nasty, exploitative places to work. I want to start an agency where the girls get most of the money they bring in, where they’re not pressured to do things they’re not comfortable with or work when they don’t want to. And equally an agency where the girls are not fucked up on drugs, not hating themselves for what they do and who know how to provide an excellent service. I want to train them in things like therapeutic massage and tantric sex. I want a beautiful apartment for them to work from, a sanctury for men to come to and a joy for the girls to work at. I want an agency of courtesans in the most dignified sense.

In my experience so far, there seem to be two types of hookers. There are those who do not want to be working in the industry but are forced into it in some way- through abusive partners, drug habits or desperate financial need. They’re the ones who drink constantly at the bar and who scrub themselves raw after every client. I wish these women could find themselves a less harmful alternative, because I can see it in their eyes that they’re going to be damaged long-term by their work. It’s not an industry for everyone. But then there are those women who are perfectly suited to prostitution, who enjoy it and even thrive on it. Like me. I was a mediocre receptionist, a terrible mechanic, a passable gardener, an ok viticulturist – but I’m an excellent prostitute. And if you’re good at something, shouldn’t you take it to the highest levels you can? It’s this second type of hooker I want working at my agency.

Oh yes, I have big plans.