On-Call, Monday Night

Sitting here in my living room, topless and eating gnocchi with vodka sauce and a Caesar to drink on the side, I’m waiting for my phone to ring with the news that I have work.

It’s Monday night, so I know it won’t be busy.  The big money nights are Friday and Saturday, and maybe a Thursday or Sunday if it’s a non-family long weekend…. or the end of one.  Boxing Day at the massage parlour was a gong show, it was so busy.

Working on-call for an agency means that you get to do whatever you want in your own time, but be available to work within 15 minutes of receiving a call at anytime once you’ve booked on.  I don’t know what other girls do, but I sit around with my friends, smoke weed, surf the net, and clean my house – all of which are either productive or fun things, so it’s actually a really comfortable job for me.

I sit here listening to Arcade Fire, Radiohead, Tool, Marilyn Manson, and all my trip hop, trying to catch up on emails and procrastinating by writing about my life online, whether it’s via chat to my friends or writing entries on Open Diary.  I’m planning to roll another joint in a minute, probably between paragraphs here.  I’m comfortable smoking weed while I’m on-call, because if I’m awake enough I can go stoned, and if I’m starting to get tired I can go shake out the leftover bits from the little baggie of blow sitting in my bedroom.  The only reason it’s there is because I had a lover over last week who emptied her pockets of "garbage", including said baggie – I held on to it, knowing it could come in handy, and shocked that she wouldn’t make use of a bit of blow that’s left over.

No joint – just got a call.  Will edit and update this entry when I return.

Back in under 20 minutes – cancellation.  Sometimes that happens and you try to collect a cancellation fee if you can – I managed to get $20 out of him for it, of which I get to keep $10 because I’ve decided to be honest about my cancellation fees with the agency – at least until I build up a good solid rep with them.  The best behaved, most honest yet most money-hustling girls get the most calls.  I’ve been doing alright so far.

Listening to Arcade Fire reminds me of a night over a year ago where I went home from the bar with a lover (the same one mentioned above, actually…) after she fed me E that had K in it, and I went over my limits.  She took me home, and the cab home had Arcade Fire blasting at loud volume, as I lay with my head in her lap and our driver aggressively drove us home to my place, where we lay naked in bed, breathed, napped a bit, and listened to Janet Jackson’s Velvet Rope CD, which I had just bought and became my soundtrack for last summer.  Then we fucked and did blow for hours till the sun came up.

A couple of hours have passed since I wrote the last paragraph – I went off to roll a joint then chatted online with friends and caught up on independent escort correspondence.  I’m not supposed to work either for another agency or independently when I’m with the agency, so I haven’t placed any new ads, but I’ve still got stuff coming in from various sources.  It’s good to know my options are still open and that I can still go independent if I quit the agency, for any reason.  I make significantly more money working on my own, but it takes more work than people would anticipate – advertising, connecting to the client, client satisfaction, compatability, ability to maintaing long term relationships (fake ones, no less…)  It does kinda feel more natural for me though, and the thought has occurred to me to try to run my own agency of some kind.

I’m going to go write in real time – if I get a call, I’ll add more when I get back; if I don’t… meh.  We’ll see.