Addicted to Sexahol
Speaking of sex, I once got offered an exciting career opportunity at an escort agency, no word of a lie. I’d bumped into an ex flatmate of mine who I hadn’t seen in years and he told me he had found work as a midnight cowboy. He told me of his life as a gigolo and the crazy amorous misadventures that come with it and I have to say he did paint a pretty picture. Much prettier than my job cleaning ashtrays at the club and involving a whole lot more sex.
He glazed over the STD’s, the drugs, the violent pimps and the types of clients most likely to require the services of a male hooker and focused instead on the lifestyle and the glamour of it all and at the time it was certainly food for thought. He told me there were several positions available for an upwardly/downwardly mobile young go getter like myself and that I could make a real career out of it being as I was, young, fit and devilishly attractive (just like all prostitutes are).
I turned him down and payed him what I owed and told him that whilst I appreciated the offer, I felt that my aspirations went beyond the streets and that I would find my fortune and all the sex I could carry in the private sector. I haven’t quite made it yet but I wonder where I would be now if I’d accepted his offer…
candy
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May 31st, 2010 at 6:01 am
I was once wandering through Kings Cross at 11am and was asked whether I was looking for work while I was in town. I, too, declined, but often wonder the same thing : )
May 31st, 2010 at 6:43 am
“and then they realised they were no longer pretty girls: they were pretty women”