Where Have I Been?

Much has happened these past few months. I’m working at a new PR firm, one that’s even more prestigious than my former employer. I couldn’t believe when my new employer agreed to interview me, let alone when I received the job. My new position includes a bevy of goodies, among them a higher salary and more prestigious account work.

There’s more, too. You see, I’ve also taken up escorting again. I know, I know -- gasp! Shock! Horror! The naysayers must be right: Once a sex worker, always a sex worker. Guilty as charged, I suppose. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

My breakup with Simone was tough. Despite my efforts, we simply grew apart. A three-way with Noah didn’t change that. After our breakup I was left with a nagging feeling that I would always have to live with two separate identities: “Julian” and the “real me.”

After all, how could a marketing professional ever live beside a sex worker?

The answer hit me like a slap in the face: The only way I could make both identities “work” is if I finally realized that “Julian” isn’t a separate persona -- he’s part of me, and he always has been. My clients back in Miami weren’t paying to spend time with a stranger. They were spending time with me.

Who cares if it was under a different name? Was I not there in mind and body during all of those bookings? Did I not make them laugh? Listen to them commiserate about their lives? Have sex with them, or just hold their hand and dine and drink and laugh under the beautiful night sky?I missed escorting. I missed the sheer variety of women; the way it padded my bank account; the feeling of excitement that comes with walking into a hotel or a private home and not knowing who or what would await me on the other side.

So, the outcome of my decision? I feel better than I have in months, and I’m making more money now than I ever thought possible. I keep my bookings limited to nights and weekends, and usually average about four to five per month. This is strictly a part-time venture of mine -- but good God does it pay handsomely.

I’m back, folks. And while I can’t make any promises… I think that my blog might be back, too. Stay tuned.

Gigolos

Seeing how I'm home with a case of allergies (don't laugh; it's terrible!) I thought I'd finally update my blog. Life has been hectic, but there is a topic out there that people have been asking my opinion about: the new Showtime series Gigolos.

People, I am at a loss for words.

The experiences of the men on Gigolos is very, very different from my own. For starters, I didn't have many other male escorts to mingle with. There certainly wasn't a community in Miami, and I don't really think that there is one in Las Vegas, either. The "brotherhood" was something created solely for the cameras, as most escorts operate alone.

In addition, I have something else to say: I think that at least half of the men in Gigolos are gay. And no woman in her right mind would pay money to have sex with that orange-skinned leper who looks like he's in his mid-forties.

And really, what the hell kind of name is Brace? That's right -- a fake one.

I will, however, give my seal of approval to one gigolo in the group: Jimmy. Here is a man who is good looking enough to have a real career as a sex worker. More importantly, he has a personality. No pseudo-machismo like Nick, who I truly believe is gay and is just playing straight for the cameras.

Now, what are some things I agree with on the show? I've been paid to have sex with women in front of their husbands, escort elderly women around town, and have sex with a woman who's divorced, has kids, and doesn't have time for a relationship.

All in all, I do with the men well, particularly Steven, who really does seem to put his son's welfare first and foremost. Unfortunately, many people are in sex work to support their children. It's not all single people living fancy-free, and I respect that.

But really... Brace? Lay off the self-tanner. Vin, stop calling yourself a feminist. And Nick, it's OK to come out. You'll probably be in a Corbin Fisher movie sooner or later.

Last thing: I am glad that the series is on television. Why, you ask? Because it finally proves something I've been saying for years: women can and do pay for sex -- they just don't do it enough. Perhaps if the business can produce higher quality gigolos like Jimmy, more women would be willing to give it a try.

And that, my friends, would be good for all of us.