Friday, May 05, 2006

Happy Friday, everyone….

Here’s this week’s column.

A reminder about the bondage class Max is teaching Sunday afternoon, which will be followed by the “Bondage Is The Point” party. Should be big fun.

Not kinky, but something I have always felt strongly about: How you treat waitstaff (and other service people) says a lot about who you really are.

Speaking of which…I’m toying with the idea of going dancing next weekend. If you’re a local club-kid, tell me where I should go.

Wednesday, May 03, 2006

Tuesday, May 02, 2006

When I stop and think about it, I know a lot of other sex workers. I mean – a lot. Sometimes for me, looking through the “Eros Guide” site for Seattle is like looking through MySpace or Tribe or Friendster. “Oh, look - there’s Claudia, she’s back in town and doing incall…. And Grace got some new pictures, very nice, they look like Tommy Edwards’ work. Huh, I didn’t know Meredith had switched from escorting to doing massage, interesting…”

I was thinking about this because a woman I know, who isn’t a sex worker, has made a remark to me about wanting to ask a few questions - the implication being that she’s considering a foray into the industry herself. I’ve given professional advice to a lot of friends over the years, and I’m always happy to do it. I sort of consider it my way of paying the universe back for giving me such overwhelmingly positive sex work experiences myself.

So I was thinking, considering what she might ask, and what I might tell her, when the phone rang. It was another friend, who is a sex worker, who also wanted some advice.

“I got this voicemail on the business line,” she began. “And I thought I recognized the voice, and then I realized – shit, I know this guy. I mean, I know him socially.”

“Wow, that’s unusual.” I replied. “Does he know it’s you? I mean, was it just coincidence or…?”

“No, he knows what I do, and he must have hunted around and found me somehow. But he wants to see me, and I just can’t – that’s too weird, I can’t do it.”

“I don’t blame you, it would be kinda strange.” I thought about it. “I’m not sure I’ve ever known someone socially and then had them as a client. But I’ve had people as clients first and then started seeing them around the community. You have to be careful not to out them, but it’s never been a problem.”

“Well, that’s the thing – he said he’s never done this before, and he went on and on about how confidentiality was really, really, super important to him, and how it was like a big deal to call me and give me his number to call him back at, and like that.”

“Let me get this straight – confidentiality is the biggest deal to him, and so to preserve his anonymity he called a sex worker who knows him in his real life? Oh, that’s not so smart.”

She paused. “Yeah, I hadn’t thought about it that way, but I guess that is kinda dumb, isn’t it?”

“I would guess that he’s thinking that at least he knows you’re not a cop. Guys who aren’t very experienced always worry way more than they need to about that. And he probably feels reasonably sure you won’t have some killer pimp hiding behind the door, either. But he’d have done better to ask you for a referral.”

“Yeah, because I definitely don’t want to see him.”

“So just tell him nicely that it’s too close to home and send him to someone else. Or if even that’s too weird, just point him towards one of the escort review boards and let him pick someone from there.”

“Okay, that’s what I’ll do. Thanks, Matisse.”

We hung up. It’s really nice to be at a point in my career where there are very few professional situations that I feel I have no solution to.

Monday, May 01, 2006

What a cool weekend I had.

Friday: Roman shows up with Stellar’s pizza and entertains me with stories about tying up out-of-town visitors while I eat dinner. Then we discover that the new Goldfrapp CD is perfect music for our brand of growling, biting, bed-wrestling. No Mexican wrestler hoods, though.

Saturday: I sleep in while Roman goes off at the crack of dawn to deliver rope to the students at Max’s rope bondage intensive, and give Mrs. Roman a kiss, as she’s attending the class as well. He returns as I’m getting out of the shower and demands a rematch, perhaps feeling that I took some unfair advantage the night before? We agree, after a while, to call it a draw.

We rehydrate, and decide to go do a late lunch and a movie. Lunch is a Mexican place downtown I’ve never been before, and it turns out to be quite good. As we eat, I talk to Roman about a writing class I’d like to take in the fall, and suggest to him that he take it with me, although I know he’s as busy as I am, perhaps even busier, and that I shouldn’t put more on his plate. But I can’t resist asking.

Roman’s choice of movies, Brick, turns out to be fabulous. (Did I mention it was fabulous? It was fab-u-lous, my friends. If you have any love for the classic film noir, you must go see this fast, clever twist on the genre. Plus, the star is the former Third Rock From The Sun actor Joseph Gordon-Levitt, all grown up and looking damn hot in this movie. Think of an edgier Daniel Radcliffe, all messy dark curls and a thousand-yard stare from behind wire-rimmed glasses.)

Knowing I can be hard to please, Roman is triumphant at having chosen both a new restaurant and a movie that I loved. He says finding new things – food, music, films – that I’ll like has become something of a fetish for him. I tell him it’s one I support. We kiss and part company.

Sunday: My turn to get up at the crack of dawn to help with Day Two of the intensive, although at least class today starts a half an hour later than Saturday’s. But still, seven-thirty am is no friend of mine. There is no method of caffeine delivery fast enough or strong enough to make me feel perky at that hour.

But I’d do (just about) anything for my Max, so up we go, off to the Wet Spot, to rig fifteen suspension points. I’m up on a ladder, musing that if these people knew how not a morning person I am, they might think twice about dangling so blithely from these same points.

But Max makes sure it’s all done to spec, of course. All the students arrive, many of them pals of mine, and we get underway. From then on, it’s helping with knots, dealing with the slightly fascinated caterer as she sets up lunch, playing bondage stunt model for my opportunistically sadistic sweetheart, making sure everyone’s getting what they need. It’s fun, but still, just one day of this will leave me very tired, it always amazes me that Max can do two full days.

Sometimes I think I need a Monday to rest up from my weekends. But hey, I had a good time.