I’m loving the phone calls I’m getting right now. Of course they’re appreciated because they’re currently my only source of income, but my reasons are a little more complex than that.
I’ve been talking with a few people recently – I’m sure we all have – about our current situation. For most of us the world has changed radically. Many of us have lost our means of earning a living, at least for now. I’m hoping that one day in the not too distant future I can be a working escort again, and tour the Mainland once more. Before (everything is “before” isn’t it?) I had a major trip planned over the winter. North as far as Townsville, across to Darwin via Mt Isa, back down to Adelaide, then across to Melbourne. Alas, not this year, not now.
Someone told me that in Chinese script the symbol for “crisis” is the same as the one for “opportunity”. I’ve got no idea if this is true or not, as I don’t know the Chinese language, but I like the idea.
When I was a working escort I estimated that around 80% of my clientele were married. I never had a problem with the morality, or otherwise, of the situation. I believe, very strongly, that our bodies are are own, and what we do with them is nobody else’s business. If I choose to use my body to bring a little pleasure into the lives of some delightful men, then that is my business. If I were to be in a relationship with someone that principle would still apply.
People talk to me, they always have. Perhaps it’s because I am genuinely interested in other people’s stories. I find human beings fascinating – their hopes, their joys and dreams, their experiences.
The married men who would visit me often told me variations of the same story: “I’ve been married 25 (or 30, or 40) years and I love my wife to pieces, but there’s no sex in our marriage any more.”
We all need human contact. We all need, dare I say it, love. We go about finding them in our own individual ways.
I’ve just spent two extremely long weeks in a hotel room in Launceston. A couple occupied the room next to me. I have very acute hearing (at times I wish I could turn it off, believe me) and the walls were not particularly well insulated as far as sound was concerned.
I’d noticed this couple when we were all loaded onto the bus that cold, wet, miserable morning in Devonport. They weren’t particularly young, perhaps in their 50s, maybe even older. When we caught the bus again yesterday to go back to our cars they were smiling perhaps even more broadly than the rest of us.
They’d used that two weeks of being locked in a hotel room together 24 hours a day to rediscover each other. I know this because I was on the other side of the wall.
What would you do if you were locked in a room with your wife?
When people (used to) come to see me, I would never see anyone for less than an hour. I like to get to know the person I’m going to be having sex with. I like to have some idea of who he is as a human being and an individual, and I want him to know me in the same way.
When was the last time you got to know your wife? You may have married her 25 years ago, but she’s changed, just as you have changed. In that time you’ve bought a house or two, you’ve had different jobs, you’ve probably had children together. Maybe by now you even have grandchildren.
You probably know superficial things, like which AFL team she barracks for. You may even know that she hates green but loves pink, prefers white wine over red, chicken over steak.
If you were lying in bed with me, right here, right now, what would you want to ask me? What would you want me to know about you?
Okay, now substitute your partner for me in that fantasy.
Once upon a time you took the trouble to get to know the person sitting next to you on the couch watching TV. You loved her enough to have a long term relationship with her, to have children with her.
What would you do if you were locked in a hotel room with her for two weeks. Would you – and her – be beaming when you came out? Or would you want to kill each other?
If the current crisis is telling us anything at all, surely it’s that life is too short to put up with mediocrity. She was once the best thing you’d ever seen. In many ways she probably still is.
This afternoon I chatted with a lovely man who lives some distance from me. This blog post is inspired by our conversation. I’ll tell you the story I told him.
Many years ago I used to frequent a site call Adult Friend Finder (AFF). Back then all communication was in text, video cameras were around but not many people were using them. I’m a fast typist so I’d have a few conversations going at once. I would chat with guys all over the world.
One of them, John, lived in London. We talked about our fantasies and generally had a bit of sexy, harmless fun. In a weird way we became friends. He told me he and his wife had been married for about 15 years – 2nd marriages for both of them – but they worked different shifts and barely saw each other. He still thought very highly of her.
New Year’s Eve was coming up and I suggested he ask her out on a date. The first time it fell through – work had got in the way – and he wanted to drop the whole idea. I asked him to persist.
I stopped hearing from him.
Months later I got an email. He and his wife and their combined families were renting a house in Turkey for their summer holidays and they asked me to join them. Not only had their date worked, it had revitalised their marriage. John had told his wife about the crazy lady in Australia who’d suggested the idea. They were they happier, and their kids and their families were too.
So what I’m saying is go back to the beginning. Factory reset. Date night. Get to know the person she is now.
You don’t have to go as far as booking a hotel room for a fortnight, you’re probably locked in together anyway!