Saturday, August 21, 2010

The Call

Saturday, August 21, 2010

I rolled over in bed and picked up the phone. "Hello?"

"Hey stranger."

It was my old agent in Miami. I opened my eyes, sat up. "Hey, how are you?"

"Fine, thanks. How's life in the Big Apple?"

"Busy, hot. And Miami?"

"Hot as a desert and humid as a swamp. So, listen..."

"Oh come on, you know I'm not escorting anymore."

She laughed, told me to relax. She just wanted me to make the offer as courtesy. A former client of mine is at her summer home in Martha's Vineyard, she said. I've been to this client's summer home before, in fact.

"I appreciate the sentiment," I said. "But that part of my life is over."

"It's Simone, isn't it?" my agent said. "She's the reason you quit."

"In fact, she is."

My agent chuckled, almost cynically. "And you're fine with her working as a dominatrix? My friends tell me she's setting up her own dungeon."

"She's quite good at beating people," I said. "She tanned my ass last night."

"Be careful with that one," said the agent. "And if you ever need any extra money, you know who to call."

The agent hung up after that. I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering what the hell just happened. Had the Martha's Vineyard client really remembered me? Or was my replacement in Miami not working out to my agent's liking?

Why is that sometimes, I feel like sex work haunts me like a ghost? It follows me around, whispering in my ear, tempting me to come back. The money is there, after all -- and apparently, so is the demand from some old clients. Before I quit, I'd have been all too happy to hop on a plane from Miami to Boston, then relax in a chauffeured car to Martha's Vineyard.

I changed my life, got a "normal" job. But is the old adage about sex work true? One a sex worker, always a sex worker? I'm not sure. And I won't lie: the idea of my past being revealed is scary. Not because I'm ashamed of it, but because I have a low tolerance for BS and judgmental people -- both of which would erupt if my past as an escort came out into the light.

No worries, I guess. I can't go back. What would Simone think?

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