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Archive for the ‘Q & A’ Category

I’ve been seeing an escort whom I feel very intensely about.  We both agree that this must remain a provider/client relationship in which money is exchanged, but I like doing extra for her such as helping her with college tuition.  I have also promised that she can count on me for a certain number of sessions each month.  I’m in a sexless but otherwise great marriage, and of course she has other clients; I love that we can be so open and genuine with each other, but I feel like I’m trying to do something that has no precedent in my own experience.  If other men have these kinds of relationships I’ve never heard them talk about it.  Do you think this can work?  Have you seen it work for other men and women?  Am I being a fool, or can this be the semi-miracle it seems to be?

clockwork butterflyThe situation you’re enjoying is no miracle; it only seems to be because most people aren’t capable or willing to be both honest and pragmatic about their sexual relationships.  What you’re experiencing is what happens when two people are clear and open about their desires and expectations for one another, and refrain from trying to force a mutually-beneficial and mutually-satisfying arrangement into one of the restrictive boxes society tells them are the only acceptable forms.  I daresay such idyllic relationships might even be the norm, were it not for the stupid, impossible desire to own and control another person; this yearning for possession leads invariably to jealousy, frustration and conflict, and those weaken affection and may eventually destroy it.  My advice to you is to continue on exactly as you’re doing; enjoy your young lady’s charms and companionship and take pride and pleasure in the fact that you can be a benefactor to her, and never try to turn the relationship into something it isn’t.  The love and friendship between two people is an organic thing which has to be taken for what it is; any attempt to rebuild it into something else is as doomed to failure as a scheme to turn one animal into another by cutting it apart and putting it back together in a different shape.

(Have a question of your own?  Please consult this page to see if I’ve answered it in a previous column, and if not just click here to ask me via email.)

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I’m a journalist preparing a report about the increasing use of AirBNB by prostitutes.  Do you know if this is something common ?
AirBnB logo
I’m not sure why people are surprised that sex workers use AirBnB.  See, sex workers are people, so any time something becomes more common for people in general, you can bet it will also become more common for sex workers.  As smartphones became more popular, they also became more popular for whores.  As Uber became more popular, we used it more, too.  And since AirBnB has become increasingly popular, Surprise! We’re using it more as well.  I don’t see any stories headlined “Medical Professionals Increasingly Use Computers for Research”, or “Small Businesses Turn To Square for Credit Card Processing”, but for some reason when perfectly ordinary sex workers (and yeah, we’re pretty ordinary; there’s no city in the world where we can’t be found) use a perfectly ordinary technology or product, it becomes a storyIf sex workers are using AirBnB to a disproportionate degree than other people who rent hotel rooms (and that’s a mighty big “if”), it’s probably because cops and other professional busybodies are lying to hotel owners, managers and employees about imaginary “sex trafficking” in an effort to get them to spy on sex workers and report them to said cops, so the cops can then arrest the workers, steal everything they own as “proceeds of crime” and then plaster their names and faces all over the news.  If you want a real story instead of a ridiculous excuse to titillate the bourgeois, try investigating how the War on Whores is becoming the replacement for the increasingly-unpopular War on Drugs.

(Have a question of your own?  Please consult this page to see if I’ve answered it in a previous column, and if not just click here to ask me via email.)

 

 

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China Nympho CreamWould you write something for me?

No.

You wrote something for So-and-So!

So-and-So is a personal friend of mine, and I rarely say no to friends.

Will you do it if I pay you?

Sure, as long as it’s on a topic I care about or think is important.

What if I want you to say a specific thing?

You mean like writing you an ad?  If I were any good at that, I’d make a lot more money than I do.

Well, could I write a guest post and pay you to publish it?

Don’t even go there.

But you have guest posts every month!

Yeah, from people I invite; they’re guests, not infomercials.

Well, some of your guests are definitely selling things.

Yes, and those people are friends.  Did you miss the part where I’m loyal to my friends?

Do you have something against monetizing your reputation?

You’re kidding, right?

So, what’s the harm in my paying you to call attention to my product?

Nothing, if your product is any good and I’ve actually used and liked it.  Like, for example, I don’t mind giving Steak ‘n Shake restaurants a plug because I freaking love Steak ‘n Shake and will eat there every time I get the chance.  Hell, I once did a whole column on Waffle House.  But if you’re, say, a Nevada brothel where I’ve never worked, I’m not going to sing your praises just because you paid me to.  I’m the Honest Courtesan, remember?  If I like your book, movie, restaurant, brand of lube or whatever I’ll praise it, and if you want to give me money to really emphasize that praise I won’t turn you down.  But if your product is shitty I’m not going to damage my reputation by endorsing it.

I think you’ll like my product; how do I get you to try it?

Well, publishers do it by offering me promotional copies.  And right now I’m testing out a service that I may end up endorsing pretty soon, provided it measures up as it looks like it might.  If you genuinely think I’ll like what you have to offer, and you think my name will lend respectability to whatever it is, and I think you’ll be a friend to the sex worker community, and you’re willing to support my work by giving me lovely money, please feel free to email me and we’ll talk.  The worst thing that can happen is I’ll tell you “no”.

(Have a question of your own?  Please consult this page to see if I’ve answered it in a previous column, and if not just click here to ask me via email.)

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Under Construction

minkFor over a year now, people have been asking when my next book is coming out.  And for almost that long, I’ve been saying “soon”.  Of course, I was wrong; it hasn’t been anything like soon, and I’m sorry about that.  It’s just that, as everyone following for the past year and a half knows, real life intervened.  In spades.  With brass knuckles on, after she had already drugged my drink, tied my shoelaces together and stolen my distributor cap.  Since arriving it Seattle, it’s a miracle I’ve even managed to get a column out every day, much less do any other writing.  But I am beginning to dare to think that phase might finally be coming to an end.  I’ve had a lot more time for myself recently, and though I’ve had to use a lot of it to play catch-up, that can’t last forever.  I honestly think I might finally be reaching a point where I’ll have both the time and the energy to start putting books together again, which would be sort of nice on a number of levels; I’ll let you know how that progresses, but I’m not going to humiliate myself again by announcing yet another probable release date and then failing spectacularly to meet it.  I’ve also been thinking about having a portfolio of nudes done; if I do, I’ll send them for the asking (and postage) to any subscriber or patron, and they’ll be available for purchase to anyone else.  Because what’s the use of being a sex symbol if one can’t monetize it?

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Not Last Night

I was born at night, but not last night.  –  Dr. Helena

laptop nudeAs most of my regular readers know, I get a lot of questions; nearly every Thursday I answer one in a column, and that doesn’t even count the interviews requests from journalists, academics, students and others.  I try to make time for as many of these as possible, and usually I succeed even if it takes a while (and even if the answer is just a link to a previous column in which I’ve already covered the topic).  But while I can justify answering reader questions in print because, after all, I get a column out of it, I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask that y’all please refrain from asking me to do email interviews any more (unless you’re offering payment).  The problem is this: while I’m sure it’s very convenient for you to have my answers all neatly typed out for you to cut-and-paste as needed, it takes much longer for me to type all that out than it would to just say it to you.  Furthermore, typing an answer requires my undivided attention, while talking on the phone does not; last summer I gave several interviews while driving cross-country, and I’ve even done them while sitting on a train, lying in bed naked or walking around in the grocery store.  And given the paucity of free time I have and the vehemence with which my friends are insisting I make more of it, I hope you’ll forgive me if I insist that from here on out, I restrict myself to the easy voice interviews rather than the time-and-labor-intensive email variety.

There is one certain kind of email interview, however, which I’m going to single out for attention.  Just recently, I got an interview request from a high school student which was clearly nothing more than the questions he received as part of a assignment, and he thought he could fool me into answering them for him.  Now, this wasn’t the first time I’ve received such a letter, so even though I’m answering him the rest of you smartass students need to listen up as well:  Listen, kiddo, I didn’t just fall off of the fucking turnip truck.  Don’t let my spectacular bod fool you; I’m old enough to be your grandmother, and I was probably outwitting teachers before your parents were born.  I’ve been around the block more times than you’ve masturbated, and if you think you can trick me into doing your homework, you need to be slapped harder than I’m willing to give you for what you can afford.  It’s bad enough when adult reporters try to get me to do their work for them, but it reaches a higher level of impudence when the person who thinks he can outwit me isn’t even as old as the last bottle of wine I drank.  So cut that shit out; if you want to interview me come up with some proper questions, record it, then write the damned paper yourself.  The practice will do you good, and one day you’ll thank me when you become an actual writer rather than a fucking stenographer whose “craft” consists of parroting whatever moronic propaganda the cops are shoveling out at press conferences in the late 2020s.

(Have a question of your own?  Please consult this page to see if I’ve answered it in a previous column, and if not just click here to ask me via email.)

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Good girls go to heaven. Bad girls go everywhere else.  –  Mae West

Lately, a number of people (including interviewers, clients and even other whores) have asked me about the different types of sex work I’ve done, when I did them and how I got started.  And though this was the subject of a three-part column soon after I began this blog six years ago, there were a few passages I omitted way back then and only wrote about much later, and a couple I think I’ve only spoken about (but never written).  So in the interest of collecting everything in one place and filling in the gaps, I hereby present a concise history of my personal journey through harlotry.

The very first time the word “prostitute” was ever applied to me was when I was 12 years old, in the spring of 1979.  Don’t be too shocked, y’all; the term was used by the nun who was the principal of my grammar school in reference to a punishwork-for-pay scheme I had dreamed up in 8th grade, and I was still a virgin for another two and a half years after that.  The first time I took money for actual sex was at the beginning of January, 1985, a few months after I’d turned 18:

An engineer who was a friend of one of my professors had to go out of town on business; his wife, also an engineer, was away as well, but they had been waiting for some time for a contractor to do some work on their house and he had offered to squeeze them in between two long jobs…All I had to do was open the house at 8 AM, supervise the contractors until they left and close up by 6 PM.  For this I was to be paid $5/hour, 10 hours a day for seven days, or $350 total; not bad for a broke coed in those days.  The contractors got done ahead of schedule, by Friday morning, and the engineer also came home early and arrived about 4 that afternoon.  While I was showing him a few things the contractor had asked me to point out, he kept finding excuses to rub up against me and eventually came right out and propositioned me…without hesitation I said, “Can I stay on the clock?”  He raised an eyebrow and I elaborated, “I was counting on being paid through the weekend”…It took less than an hour, and when he forked over the whole $350 I felt rather proud of myself…

It didn’t take my whorish little brain long to realize that my sexuality was now monetizable, and I had a number of guys I could subtly hit up for cash in exchange for sex when bills came due.  I went on like that until the spring of 1987, when I stupidly agreed to marry Jack (because I was fucking stupid); my hiatus from whoredom lasted until he left me on January 2nd, 1995.  The part I haven’t previously mentioned in print was that my ill-fated marriage was bookended by two sugar relationships, but with sugar mamas rather than sugar daddies.  Remember, I’ve always been bisexual, and when Jack proposed I agreed only on the condition that I could still have girlfriends.  Since the autumn of ’84 I had a sugar mama (in her late 30s then) I was very fond of; she almost never gave me cash, but took me out to dinner and a movie several times a week (especially in ’85).  The sexual part of our relationship actually dried up pretty quickly; she was seeing a therapist who thought homosexuality was immature and had convinced her that “Gay is not the way”.  I know that seems weird and even unethical to modern ears, but that was not an unusual viewpoint among psychiatric professionals in the ’80s.  Anyhow, she met a man in the summer of ’87 and dropped me pretty soon after; I did date girls whenever Jack and I broke up (which was often) from ’87 to ’92, but none of those were pragmatic relationships.

My next foray into whoredom came in the autumn of ’95; I was so distraught after all the events of my Year of Disaster that I just wasn’t able to work anymore, and quit my job.  I survived on pure momentum, some help from my mother, frequent handouts from friends and the patronage of another sugar mama, a woman in her late 50s who took me to dinner at least three or four times a week, gave me many presents and even gifted me with small sums of cash that were sufficient to pay the electricity & water bills.  I never actually had sex with her, either; she was very attracted to me and was clearly hoping for something in return, but I never actually promised her anything and was able to avoid the half-dozen or so direct passes she made at me over the next year by telling her (honestly) that I was still too messed up to be sexual with anybody.  So though I wasn’t technically selling her sex, I was certainly being paid for my emotional labor and for paying attention to her, which is a huge part of GFE and sugar-dating both.  She got tired of my coyness by November of ’96, and found Jesus soon after; I’m not sure what part (if any) our relationship played in that.

Almost a year later, at the end of September of ’97, I started stripping; soon after that I met Grace and we moved in together, and her truck allowed me to commute to the clubs on Bourbon Street where I could make more money than I could in the little suburban club where I’d started.  By the autumn of ’99 my outstanding debts were paid off and I took a few months off before starting at Pam’s escort service on January 2nd, 2000.  I started my own agency by Easter, and also worked for two others after leaving Pam’s; I finally retired from agency escorting in June of 2006, after burning out due to overwork and Hurricane Katrina-induced chronic illness.  At that point I moved into the long-term contractual form of prostitution we call “marriage”, and from July of 2006 until July of 2010 I saw no other client but my husband.  As most of you know, that didn’t work out as well as I might’ve liked; my retirement seems to have been a major factor in the disintegration of my marriage, and soon after starting this blog in July of ’10 I also returned to sex work, this time as an independent, “partly for pocket money and partly to put myself in the right frame of mind to write the blog.”  But as my activism developed I felt less and less willing to hide the fact that I was no longer retired, and as I prepared for my book tour in the spring of ’14 I let a number of trusted friends, patrons and whore sisters in on my secret.

The last step to where I find myself now began last summer; frustrated by the slowness with which I was building a clientele under my work persona, I decided to throw caution to the winds, ditch it and just work under the name I’d so painstakingly built up a reputation under for the previous five years.  Since then, what little was left of my anonymity has fallen away or been tossed aside, and I now get as many clients from Twitter and this blog as I do from referrals or my escort ads.  I’ve even scheduled an appointment with a gentleman who Googled me after seeing me on KIRO-TV back in January.  So in a way, I’ve come full circle: for the first decade, my pragmatic sexual arrangements were conducted under my own name, sans any kind of marketing or work persona; now I’m back to doing everything under the same name, even if it isn’t the one on my birth certificate (nearly all of my friends call me “Maggie” at home), and my work, activism and “real life” are so tangled together as to be nearly indistinguishable.  I’ve been charging for my favors in one way or another for over 60% of my life, and I have no plans to stop this side of the grave.

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Is P411 safe and reliable in your opinion? What other alternatives could you advise? Should anyone consider seeing an escort who does not employ verification practices? I am considering finding an escort but the laws are ridiculous in my state; theoretically sex on a first date is prostitution here if the man pays for the date. 

South Park stingI’ve published a column and several updates detailing why P411 isn’t safe for escorts, most recently this one.  However, I’ve never heard of a client being tricked that way, and if you think about it you’ll realize the platform works a lot better to scam escorts about client’s safety than vice versa.  As far as I know, Date-Check has never had a security breach, so they would be the best alternative.  I’m not sure what you mean by the next line; do you mean an escort who isn’t a member of either P411 or Date-Check?  Because as long as she has a website and an online presence and reputation on boards and such, I honestly can’t fathom what difference her screening methods could possibly make to you, nor how you could know what they were in any case.  I hate to break this to you, but the “sex trafficking” laws all over the country are basically similar now; the only thing that differs dramatically is the aggressiveness with which cops pursue whores and/or clients.  As long as you choose a lady who’s been around for a while and has a good reputation, you should be fine; the vast majority of men ensnared by cops are those seeking streetwalkers or reputationless, unverifiable Backpage girls.  Cops have neither the time, the money nor the patience to set up a fake escort site and purchase ads on Eros and the like, and how would their fake escort get reviews from anyone but fake, reputationless “hobbyist” profiles also set up by cops?  It’s much easier for them to put a pig in some Hollywood streetwalker getup or make up a fake Backpage “new in town” ad and then harvest the guys who are too cheap and/or too impatient to do their research.

(Have a question of your own?  Please consult this page to see if I’ve answered it in a previous column, and if not just click here to ask me via email.)

 

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