june 2010
it's a delicate situation when you tell someone you are a prostitute. even more so when you dating
the only thing i can recommend is 'the sooner the better'. as soon as you think you can trust someone and you feel they need to know, just tell them. the longer it drags on the weirder it can get and the more severe their reaction could be. some think it's awesome. some think it's disgusting. most people think it's interesting and their reaction lies somewhere between those two extremes
the biggest problem is it attracts the ones you want to repel, and drives away the ones you wish would stay
normally i tell people straight away. if their mates, i'll tell them fairly soon. if they're a hook up i will usually tell them straight away. after we've fucked and 90% of the time they will say "so you going to charge me for that?" most of the time they're joking and i politely laugh like i've never heard it a hundred times before. one time a guy was seriously asking.
i didn't tell Dj earlier because he was just a fuck. i was leaving town. no reason to tell him. he was still just a fuck, but a good one and we'd hung out a fair bit. i was also getting a sense that he was thinking of me a little bit more than just a fuck buddy. so was i, but not to the same extent he appeared to be.
it worked out badly the last time i told someone i cared about. i had told my friend Drew that i was going to tell him. she was more than happy to have me stay at hers should the news go down badly. i could go on and never tell him or anyone. or i could do it to damage and ruin chance of a relationship. i might even be doing it to permanently sabotage any chance i may have of a relationship
"so what do you do for work?"
in bed, i'd purposely baited him into a conversation about work and baited him to ask, "i'm an escort." he didn't understand. "a manwhore. a hooker." he gave no response. "a prostitute."
"oh. okay," he still lay there stunned. his eyes dancing back and forth across the ceiling, caught up in thought but not saying anything. he rolled over with his back to me. not in a bad way. just how we normally would lay together in bed
i let him think about it for a bit and be the one to say anything he needed to. but the silence had dragged on for a few minutes and he was still deathly silent. his mind would be developing scenarios. he would be making his own assumptions about what goes on. most likely all would be negative and i needed to stop those cyclical thoughts
"come on. ask me a question. ask me anything."
"i don't... have any questions"
"yeah you do. you're thinking about it right now. just get it out now mate and ask anything that comes into your head."
"ok," he thought for a bit, "do you kiss?"
"only if i want to. usually it's not needed"
"are you safe?"
"of course. i don't want some old dude's poop on my dick... amongst other things."
slowly he asked more and more questions. loosening up and relaxing on the subject. he's no stranger to homo stuff. he was a big gay pin-up boy for years in Melbourne. he began to understand it's a whole lot less dirty and sleazy than people imagine it to be. of course, it can be dirty and sleazy as hell, but only if i want it to be :) "i thought of doing it myself. i think it's the only thing i haven't done. though i reckon i've done it in exchange for drugs a few times," he smiled
"yeah, every homo has whored a part of himself out for at least a beer or two"
we drifted off to sleep. i didn't sleep all that much that night so i knew that i was holding him the whole night.
the next day the interview went really well. i kicked ass. i caught up with a few mates and Dj drove me to the airport (after a brief snog in an abandoned car park nearby).
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