About That Time I Was Asked To Give A Happy Ending...

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Once in my life, probably more than I want to admit, I wasn't quite as, I don't know, street savvy I guess, as I am now. That's not saying that I still don't fuck it up - because I do - but, I actually have learned a few things here and there.

For instance.

When you answer an Ad in the back of local magazine for massage work, which I did once in my past, and the place you go too ends up being an apartment not quite the "suite" that you thought it was, and the owner actually does speak from his throat through one of those voice machines while still smoking Pall Malls (because apparently that's what you smoke when talk through your throat) the job description really isn't about massage therapy.

I've learned that now, and I gotta tell you - standing in a skanky apartment where the massage room is a bedroom with a sheet over the doorway in a room that really does smell like day old sex is definitely an experience - especially when you're there for a job interview.

And one of the things my interviewer (a different guy from Pall Mall) told me was that while I didn't actually have to fuck or suck anyone - his words not mine - I did in fact have to get them off. If I wanted to get paid, I was going to have to give the Happy Ending. I can't tell you how the conversation shifted from massage to fucking and sucking, from women to men, to having clients take you out to lunch to being called exotic (which apparently was a plus) - because that's just the way it went - but I can tell you this:

I booked my ass out there as fast as I could trying to feign as much interest as I could so I would be able to leave all limbs intact, because I gotta be honest, I was still getting my footing as a person and reading people, and while now I know I wouldn't have ended up in the trunk of a car, at the time - definitely wasn't so sure.

But - and I think only in part because nothing bad actually happened (because who knows what could have happened if it was another day in another place) - it was an interesting experience to have, and did give me some perspectives:

  1. Bring a friend to any massage therapy interview. Someone who can carry is probably good.
  2. If the place you're going to is a an apartment, it could be legit, but most likely not.
  3. You probably need training from a reputable institution to make $2000 a week from a few clients where you actually only do real massage. If you don't have that training, most likely it's $200 a trick.
  4. As much as I like to think of myself as having absolutely no morals whatsoever, apparently I was never able to actually prostitute myself. I do however wonder if I would have had it actually been women versus men (because the dick just doesn't excite me sexually, however I do wish it would because then I would be bi, and I mean c'mon, who wouldn't want two genders to choose from?).
  5. This actually wasn't the dumbest, nor most embarrassing thing I've ever done (because hooking up with someone at a club, then going out onto the dance floor - and I don't dance - having everyone stare at you're while thinking to yourself "Damn I must look good tonight" only to go home and find yourself draped in hickeys like you were attacked by a school of leeches? That's embarrassing).

That's it.

Don't say I never share (even if you really didn't want to know).