A day in the life….

25 Jun

Friday morning…I wake up.
I feel like a lead weight trying to get myself out of bed.
My body aches from yesterday. Not from sex. From my workout routine.

Fitness is one of the things I’ve learned to force myself to do.

You can’t sit on your ass for 12 hours straight and not get cranky.

I bring a DVD player, sneakers, my running shorts…I go into the bar to fill up my water bottle, no makeup on, I look like shit and I don’t give a fuuuuck who sees me.

I go down the hall I go to get to the gym and a giant rottweiler bark is echoing from down the hall. Its Shilo, a 3 year old female rottweiler mix who belongs to one of the working girls. Shilo scared the shit out of me the day before. Now that she knows my smell, we’re cool.

Once again. I hate working out. The altitude bites me in the ass. One of the staff opens up the gym door to tell me a dude named Jesse asked for me and will be back to see me when my shift starts at four.

I do the same makeup routine I do at home…roughly.
I straighten my hair the same as I do at home. I put on a bikini that Mexicans tend to like. Yes I dress for my clientele. Whatever. I put on a necklace that I hope will be for good luck.Normally I’m not much for luck but today I thought it would be good.

I get out there and GUESS WHO JESSE IS?
It’s CRAZY MUSTACHE DUDE.
Yes, he’s back for me.
He doesn’t quit!
I breezed straight by him.
The owners were here, and I had to explain, of the hundreds of clients I’ve had, crazy mustache dude is one guy I will never fuck, because you never know what kind of bacteria that giant disgusting mustache of his could be harboring.

I say, “When you get the feeling an unhealthy preoccupation could develop and they haven’t even fucked you yet…you avoid those men.”

The owner understands.
She says, “so what are you gonna do Bambi if its hours later and he’s still here? Just hide out in the kitchen?”

I explained that no, business is business and I’d still make my lineups.

Thankfully, Creepy Mustache dude walked out. He surrendered. For today anyway.

After that I changed into my “moneykini” – the surefire moneymaking swimsuit. I have back rent to pay and I mean business. Byebye lucky necklace.

We had a pool tournament tonight.
I was thinking “oh great, pool.” which means guys will be more concerned with playing pool than they would be with sex.

More people came in than usual. One guy was a face who I had never seen before.

I looked at him in lineup. He looked at me, but this other girl honed in on him for a while so I didn’t get a chance to talk to him. Instead I was at a prime viewing location. He craned his neck a few times to look my way.
After the next lineup, that chair was open and I moved on in.

There were things the real me wanted to say…you know, the part of me that wanted to hit on him.
I wanted to say silly stuff like, “Hey, you’re my type.
or “You have a ring on your finger. I’m disappointed.”
Since the real me would NOT be making an appearance, I said none of the above.

When we got into discussion about me dating men when I’m in this business, I explained…I give leeway since intelligent guys are so hard to find, that if a guy’s smart, but kind of an asshole, I give him a 2nd or 3rd chance.

He replied,
“If you met me on the street you’d probably like me because I’m smart and I’m kind of an asshole!”

Sighhhhh. Once again, the Real Me is sad about not making an appearance.

Somehow I elegantly segued into the ring on his finger. He explained most of that one without my having to ask.

Turns out this guy has a completely unique living situation where he is separated from his wife but not divorced. He’s done very well for himself and made some wise decisions in this shitty economy.

He won’t take off the ring he said because there’s still business to tend to. She cheated on him. He caught her. She kept on cheating.

It fucks up my game when I hear that an intelligent older dude is jaded because his wife had to go out and cheat on him.

Yet, here I sit in a brothel, where men can “cheat” on women all the time. Makes me wonder if women had alternatives to fucking their much younger co-workers..if this kind of thing would not “happen” to what I consider to be some of the worlds finest men. (Cocky intelligent assholes, duh.)

After the pool tournament, Mr. Jaded sexy man is out the door…and I strike up conversation with the rottweiler Shilo’s owner, Eleanor. Eleanor has been in the industry a long time. 20 years. She is a sage in the world of working women. She’s really, really nice. We bonded a bit the day before. She has the vibrance of someone much younger, in spite of being old enough to be my mom. I knew she was a legend among legends when she told me she slept with….a legendary musician that most liberal 20somethings tend to worship.

I told her about my own goals and how I need to make money to pursue some of them…we both acknowledge that the money I should be making…is money you make working at a different ranch. She recommends a ranch and tells me to use her as a reference.

I’m crossing my fingers things work out.

Some time later….
A mexican guy walks in.
He’s a Kelly.
A Kelly means he took a cab.
After he parties with one girl, he’s checking me out.
I’m wearing a hoodie on top of my bikini because it’s cold.
He CLEARLY is leaning back in his chair to check out my ass.

I sarcastically say as he’s staring down,
“I’m not wearing pants.”
I nod my head like I’m having some rad Tina Fey on 30 rock fashion moment.

To which he says,
“I’m not stupid, you know. My english is not so good, but I understand a lot.”

APPARENTLY not my joke.

A little later, a guy walks in requesting a particular girl.

He has the telltale accent of someone who is….”Special.”

At first I’m scared.
We’re all lined up and we’re all scared because we’re wondering how bad off he is.

Eleanor and I talk to him while he’s waiting for this girl. He reminds me of this guy at this coffee shop I go to. The guy at the coffeeshop got hit by a truck, and he can’t really speak, but he understands everything.

This guy obviously had an accident of some kind. He can form sentences better than the coffeeshop guy, but it still takes him a little while.

He’s a funny motherfucker too.
We ask him his name.
He says, “I don’t wanna get into that.”
We ask what he does.
I’m thinking he’s on disability.
Turns out he’s held the same job for 15 years.
He says he just had a lot of coffee at the ranch down the road.

He says he has insomnia and has trouble sleeping sometimes,
and that when he goes home he’ll exercise most likely.
Another girl comes out, and she asks his name.
He says, “My name is Sexy Bitch.”

Then he leans in to all of us to ask if he can show off his tattoo which is on his hip. He wants to know if he’ll get in trouble or not.

We say as long as he’s not whipping his dick out, its fine.
So he proudly shows off the tattoo on his hip bone.
It says, “Sexy Bitch.” Of course.

My heart sinks a little when I watch him fumble longer than normal with his zipper. When you’re special, some things just take longer.

He was really a good looking guy.
Fit, pretty eyes, great smile.
It was obvious everything in his mind worked fine,
but he struggled to make sentences.

He asked Eleanor and myself, “wanna hear a secret?”
He said, “I’ve never eaten chocolate pussy before.”
Eleanor is black, and the girl sitting on the other side of me was black.
.
Coming from him, with this childlike spirit inside a masculine body, it came off as playful, and all we could do was laugh.

When the girl he was waiting to meet finally came out…
well.
This girl.
I know this girl from some years ago
and from the last time I saw her,
she’s picked up a crack or meth habit,
and with her hollowed eyes and sunken in face
and protruding hip bones…she’s aged 10 years and looks nothing like her photo.

So the special man says, “Oh, pleased to meet you. I’m tired. I just wanted to meet you. No no, I don’t need a tour. I just wanted to say hello…I think I’m going to head home.”

My heart broke a little not once, but twice today.
Oh yeah.
I had two clients today.
They didn’t mean much.

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One Response to “A day in the life….”

  1. Anthony Martellacci June 25, 2011 at 4:35 pm #

    Well I’m still following you. Even though you’ve been silent lately. You almost gave away where you hang out these days with key words from you’re latest blog.Sounds like ur still riding the roller coaster of life. I’d still like to talk with you in person someday if you so choose? Obviously you still haven’t met the right 1 for you.

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