So how did you…
I’d always had a passing interest in whores. I guess I was a strange child. I’ve never passed judgement on strippers other than ‘what the hell is going on with her hair’. I don’t know why, even though I was raised roman catholic, went to school taught by nuns and all, I just never felt it was necessary for me to judge woman in those types of professions. I suppose I always thought that if men were stupid enough to pay for it, and no one was forcing them to, that it was their decision.
I didn’t expect to end up in the oldest of all professions at any point in my life. But eventually debt mounts up, expectations mount up, and I fold. Actually I take that back, I don’t fold. I rise to the occasion. I find a way to make the money I need to, in the time frame that I need to make it. I take control. Control is sort of a reoccurring theme in my life.
I don’t believe in love. Well that’s not true, I don’t believe in one true love. I fall in love about a thousand times a day, with all the different lives I could possibly lead and all the people I could lead them with. But ultimately I am a solitary creature.
I am harsh, and guarded. Of course with clients I’m not either of those things. I just am whoever they need me to be, and at the end of the hour leave them thinking the illusion is real. That’s what I’m good at, great at really. I’m excellent at being ‘the girl that got away’. I can play very nice for a short amount of time, but being around in the morning isn’t my strong point.
So basically the sex industry was a perfect fit. It was strange, I sort of knew that of my friends (and it should be noted most of my friends are very normal), I was the only one that could do this.
That’s why when I read the ad on craigslist it seemed generally like a great idea. It was the least offensive ad, the agency was woman owned and operated, which mattered to me. I needed to be directed by someone who’d been in my shoes, not someone who’d watched Risky Business and decided to go for it.
