Its official – I miss it raining dicks more than it raining money.

11 Dec

In taking a detour in order that I might take care of promotional things for this book, I will tell you a little secret:

I made a vow to myself to get out of this business.
The goal was to unofficially get out by November…
and to officially get out by January.

I found some opportunities that I thought would be fruitful…some other work. Some things to full the void…Except, now I am having to work with men and work for men in a different way, and I will tell you, I don’t like it.

I don’t like it one bit.
The opposite sex is starting to make me feel gross.
I can’t explain why I feel gross other than it feels gross to joke about sex and talk about sex while not actually fucking any of my colleagues and co-workers.
I’ve taken a two month hiatus from fucking people all the time…

The hiatus is making me realize working in a brothel was/is the “Ultimate Power” for me.
I could fuck guys as nonchalantly as I wanted.
Unlike all you boys out there in the real world, I didn’t have to deal with any of the real life drama of relationship dynamics.

There were no men getting overly emotional.
No men texting to say “What’s up?”
“Wanna get lunch soon?”
“How about coffee?”

Literally I’m scared to fuck any of my options because then I have to deal with the subsequent aftermath:
Paying attention to them…
Treating them like a human being…

What’s the point?

I try to talk business with men and they take a detour on sexual.
I don’t even go in a sexual direction yet they take it that way.
What do I do….be a bitch?

Say, “I write about sex but you joking about sex with me when you know I want to fuck you is like saying it’ll never happen, so you’re gonna joke about vagina’s instead.”

Did you see the key words there?
That’s right, when I want to fuck somebody, and I’m NOT, yet I still have to do business with them, I am fucking PISSED OFF.

I now know how the rest of the male population feels.
Except you males can go out to a club and find a credible floozy to take home with you any time you want.
Finding guy floozies who are so easy on the eyes is much more difficult!

In the end, nobody turns me on enough for me to want to bang them.
Once you have the taste of banging for money,
you never want to go back .

PLUS…lets not forget the fact that book Rep is an Alpha male.
Have you ever done business with an Alpha male? I mean, a tried and true alpha male, who could probably have bagged any woman he wanted from the age of 18 to 45?

I even asked my Rep how he and his wife met.
It was one of those straight up “See what you want and take it!” kind of stories.
All I have to do is hear somebody talk with the self assurance and clarity of thought that my rep has and I realize, regardless of whether or not you’re banging somebody – there is nothing sexier than a man who knows what he wants, even when what he wants is to see you succeed.

[Note to my rep who is reading this: Thank you for teaching me that confidence in the opposite sex is sexy. Please note that I am not referring to the sex stories told on car rides. A good story is a good story. I’m referring to the more pusillanimous attempts at inserting sexual commentary into a conversation.]

I acknowledge, in my few years of living I have not gotten to know that many self assured males,
especially in the art world.
My rep is probably the first one I have met.
Comparing a self assured personality type….who has no visible hangups about his appearance, his home life, his work situation…if he has any bullshit he’s dealing with, he packages it up neatly and puts it in a corner….a corner where I don’t have to deal with it. His problems are not my problems. It’s obviously from a different upbringing, and a different era.

He’s putting people of my era to shame.

My era is the “Lets put our shit on the table and see who is more fucked up” generation.
Is it sexy to admit how abusive your parents were or how many times you’ve been molested
or how many therapists you’ve seen and how many pills you’ve taken?
Does it give me confidence?
Does it make my pussy purr?
NO, it does not.
In fact it does the antithesis of purring,
when you talk about how fucked up you are, and why you DON’T want to have
relations with a girl.
Should I really believe a man’s massive pile of bullshit when he tells me all the stuff that happened as an EXCUSE for why he can’t be with me?

There is no excuse other than fear or lack of interest.
When somebody tells me they like me, that leaves fear, and it leaves me disappointed.

It makes me feel like today’s generation is missing out on something that my father’s and my grandpa’s generation had where even if men were sensitive, they played stronger than they really are. Even if that strength was fantasy, that fantasy combined with a faint display of sensitivity, is what we women once fell for.

Proof that even everyday, real people….love their fantasies.
Being in a brothel
and being out of a brothel…
My fantasies have been shattered.
In my whorehouse, at least I can be a fantasy for somebody else.
If only for a night.

I miss it.


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