She Knew All Along

I told Briana that I’m an escort, which really wasn’t necessary. According to her, she knew all along.

I’m sure the look on my face was a mix of shock and relief. Shock that she’d somehow uncovered the secret that I fight to keep under wraps every minute of every day. Relief that she at least knew what I did for a living, and wasn’t either in tears or throwing blunt objects at my head.

“Honestly, Julian, it’s not that hard to figure out,” she said calmly. “You live in a beautiful apartment and work a lot of strange hours. I figured you were either a drug dealer or a male escort.”

“So what finally tipped you off?” I asked.

“When we had sex, you didn’t act like most guys do. You made everything about me. It was like I was a job. The fact that you showered afterward didn’t help matters, either.”

I never imagined that my work as an escort would somehow impact the way I have sex during my non-working hours. But the more I look back on it, the more I realize that Brianna is right. I really do make sex all about the woman. My needs come second -- no pun intended.

“So, where does this leave us?” I said. “I understand if you want to break things off. Hell, you’re not the first person to do so.”

“Look, I understand that your career choices are none of my business. But… I just can’t imagine being with someone who earns a living sleeping with as many women as he can.”

“It’s not all about the sex,” I snapped.

“No, I’m sure it isn’t. But be real with me, Julian. At the end of the night, the women you’re with want one thing -- and that’s why they paid you to give it to them.”

“Right. Well, at least you’re honest. You can show yourself out.”

Brianna looked hurt at that last bit. She opened her mouth to speak one last time, but didn’t actually say anything. Gathering her things, she walked out the front door of my apartment and left me alone. I’m familiar with that word by now -- alone. It seems my job has a way of fucking up most every romantic relationship I even attempt to embark on.

So, what’s a gigolo to do? I’m not about to quit my job. I’ve pretty much written off the job opportunity up north, even if the recruiter keeps saying they’ll be in touch as soon as possible. Right. I felt like telling her that it’s a lot harder to bullshit a whore than some wet-behind-the-ears graduate.

In light of these recent events, I’ve decided to put a moratorium on romantic relationships all together. No dates, no friends setting me up -- nothing. I have all the sex I want or need at work, and I don’t see the point in setting myself up for failure and discontentment when there’s plenty of that to go around in the first place.

I have a few other cover letter / résumé / writing sample packages to send out via e-mail. All they need is a final proof-read before I send them to a recruiter who, most likely, won’t get back to me. Maybe I’ll still click that send button. Maybe I won’t. Time will tell.