If you don’t hate me already. If you haven’t blocked me already. We’ll this is that blog article, the one that you’ll hate me for – the ‘end of the line’.
I am in a ‘dark-place’, I’m about to be alone – a lonely, love-less, adrift middle-aged guy. A client of escorts, a laughing-stock of many, a soft-touch. Easy to manipulate. That is all true and yet I persist, I exist on Twitter and for some unknown reason, even to me, I put these words down on this blog. So what has changed?
Suspension of disbelief.
Last night I went to an establishment – a brothel. For only the second time in recent history. They laughed at me for removing my wedding ring – symbolic of my failed long-term relationship. I was no one, just another of the guys moving through on any given night looking for something – intimacy, excitement, a respite from their personal loneliness or self-imposed prison. Despite that it was wonderful.
Two-hours with a beautiful person inside and out. Three-hundred dollars to the establishment, five-hundred to my companion for two-hours. No hotel bill, no dinner bill, no cancellations, no fifth-degree in booking approval and everything at our disposal and ready to go. For eight-hundred-dollars, it was at least on par with what I normally spend almost double that on courting an independent escort for a lunch or dinner date. Actually, with the costs attached, more like one-third. It was a wonderful night.
What is missing?
Of course she won’t remember me, I will eventually forget her, and it will boil down to two lovely hours. A spa, a massage, a conversation, plenty of sex and something far better than self-service, but far short of true intimacy and a rewarding longer-term relationship.
So seeing an independent escort for a ‘Girlfriend Experience’ bridges that gap? Well that is what I thought, that is where I’ve been for two-years. Over forty bookings with two companions who have retired and are no longer in contact. Over fifty bookings with four companions that I consider ‘regulars’ and I hope that they see me in the same light, or more, as we build from connection to connection, moment to moment, booking to booking. Well that was what I thought, but is it true?
At the moment I don’t hear from either of the companions who have retired – nor would I expect to – they have new lives and the world is as it should be. That is truly the end of the road. At the moment, I don’t hear from the other companions, with over fifty bookings and around $100,000 spent between them. They have what they want from me, a loyal and ‘in-love’ client, someone who is a soft touch. Of course I will re-book, I am captured. Of course, I understand, they are busy, they can’t devote the time that I do to being in contact. Why should they, customers chasing providers, isn’t that the norm? Of course for me, I make the time because I am enamored, captured in the fantasy of the booking. They don’t make the time, because they don’t need to make the time anymore.
Let Percie chase me, he loves me, he needs me, he will do the contacting, the arranging, and if I’m late, need to reschedule, don’t feel like providing service or forget when the booking is, what hotel we’re at, or need to change to fulfill a longer booking – he’ll be fine with that. They are right, I am fine with that, I just want to see them again. But every-time I look at the sad little me that accepts this, I die just a little bit more inside and lose just a little more self-respect.
Stepping into the gap!
So while these beloved companions become ghosts, others emerge. Independents who build friendships on Twitter and then get aggressive when it doesn’t almost immediately translate into a booking. The nice people, who really do try and connect, but are burning themselves out on Twitter and either learning the hustle or becoming victim to the unscrupulous clients. Oh, no, we can’t talk about the hustle.
Well I am adrift. My long-term relationship is ending. I have nightmares of being in a furniture-less, window-less apartment. A lonely figure, by myself, a laughing stock – as the last few years of being reasonably presentable as a man disappear and I descend into decay. Maybe I should just accept it already – even my own daughter says I can move into the retirement home with my octogenarian father in 5-years … they accept people at 55 who have given up. Am I giving up?
I have a little time for fun and adventure. New experiences, travel and maybe some love. I don’t believe in monogamy anymore, but I also believe that I have ‘missed the race’. I can watch sexually adventurous people explore a taboo free existence – but I am not welcome at the party. It is a cruel place, to see what can happen – sexual freedom, excitement and liberation, and then only be watching from afar and not participating.
Recently, when offered three choices, strippers, a party or going back to my hotel – I heard an adored companion say “on no – definitely not Percie”. I’ve been blocked and disavowed by the best friend of my longest-standing companion. None of my four closest companions respond to my messages anymore – they are happy to loose them in the flood of other messages they get on any given day. Another companion, who has taken photos at three of our meetings, someone I have hosted at Vue De Monde, taken to a show, and had planned to see many more times, sent me one photo of our last booking, and that was after some two months had past and I had grown tired of asking.
Is the Independent Escort World having issues with client satisfaction? Is it just me, a relic, a soft-touch, easy to manipulate and ignore. Or is it something else. Why shouldn’t I get over my infatuation with some companions I have met and visit the establishment where it is all laid out for my enjoyment. If no one cares anyway, maybe that is for the best – it’s a third of the cost after all.
I am ending a relationship. I have an unwell daughter. I have a dying best friend. I am in a mid-life crisis. I have had a business demand money from me instead of providing it to me for the last 6-months. I have had everything about who I am in this world challenged. Any arrogance, ego and entitlement is gone. I am a hollow, ruined, wreck of a man – rebuilding and about to be alone. This space, rich with adventure and experience and one that I highly recommend to anyone for fun, education, and just getting out of that shitty vanilla rest of the world is brilliant. But it is not helping me right now.
My own psychologist has told me that I am already in mourning for my relationship, my youth, my dying friend and the heady days when business was easy. I am also mourning two retired companions and the loss of contact with the four who are still the most important to me. Don’t read too much into this – it is clearly the musings, distress and catharsis of a ‘mourning man’. I am sure all will be well one day – with the appropriate changes and painful transitions.
As with all of my blogs, I don’t have any answers. For fucks sake, I don’t even know the questions. I just see a lot of lonely people and I am one of them. I don’t know if I an unlovable, a joke, or if rules, busy lives or other things are getting in the way. But even in the place I though I was finding change and support – I find myself needing to make more change. I can’t be in love with people who are ghosts and I wonder if I have attached myself to the wrong companions.
I can’t wait for people to make a minute of their time for me three weeks too late. To be honest, in the two-years since I became a client, I don’t like where this industry is headed. I wonder if I’m the one out of sync, or if there is some underlying problem that is getting worse with each passing year. Maybe it is just me and maybe all the people who hate me, block me, and wish I was gone are right!
So there it is. Warts and all. Just the article to make Australia’s only blogging client the most hated of all. Well right now, that would be a challenge to dislike me more than I dislike myself – but of course, do your best!
Xx SP 30 January 2018