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A New York Escorts Confessions

The man sitting next to me takes his dirty baseball cap off, scratches his head and spits into an empty beer bottle. He’s been chewing tobacco and spitting the whole time. Disgusting.

“Are you shore you want to do that?” he asks in a southern drawl. “I’d hate for a pretty lil’ lady like you to ruin your makeup by crying for more money from your boyfriend.”

I pause and ask the dealer, “Can I change my mind?”

He shakes his head. “Nope. Sorry, those are house rules.”

“I guess I’m all in then.”

Tex says, “I hate to do this to you but I have to call.” Flashing an idiotic grin, he continues, “‘course, you can always come crying to me for money any time.”

Everyone else at the table folds.

Tex flips his cards. Ace high flush. “Can you beat that?”

“I’m not sure.”

“I didn’t think so neither,” Tex replies as reaches for the chips. “Don’t forget my offer,” he says and winks.

I turn my cards over.

The dealer puts his hands on Tex’s wrists. “Not so fast. The lady has you beat. Full house.”

I smile at Tex. “Sorry. Beginner’s luck, I guess.”

“God damn! What a fuckin’ lucky bitch!” Tex grabs the little stack of chips he still has and storms off. Delicious.

I love poker.

My older brother first taught me how to play poker when he was in jr. high school. He and his friends gathered at each other’s homes once in a while and played poker for M&M’s. Being four years younger, I always tagged along and asked him to teach me. At first, he wouldn’t. After suffering my constant begging for a couple weeks, he finally gave in and taught me the basic rules.

I ended up losing most of the time — I made many runs to the corner Circle K to get more M&M’s. But I did get my first kiss from one of the boys in my brother’s poker circle. (More on that some other time…)

More recently, I got hooked on poker again after watching the World Series of Poker and Celebrity Poker on TV. OK. So the celebrities aren’t really that good, but I can’t help watching them. Just call me a pop culture junkie! I bought several books and started playing online and in some of the casinos in Atlantic City.

Poker drew me in because it’s the ultimate mind game. Bluff, call, check or raise. Good players win by getting into and playing with their opponents minds — not by getting lucky with the best cards. Don’t get me wrong. Luck is important. But over the long run, money always flows from lucky players to good players to better players.

Being a successful escort requires many of the same skills that make a poker player successful. As one of you so astutely remarked before, “Any high class escort never bills you by the hour. She steals your heart and negotiates the price to sell it back to you.”

Stealing someone’s heart isn’t easy. To get repeat clients who pay thousands of dollars for weekend getaways or overnight visits, you need to truly know them. Understanding their deepest (and sometimes darkest) desires is more important than simply having a hot body and pretty face. Sometimes, clients make it easy by just telling you what they want. Other times, they don’t. A gesture, a passing remark, or maybe a fleeting facial expression — these may be the only tools available to help you read your client.

Even after you know what your clients want, you need to make them believe that you want it as well. I’m not attracted to most of my clients. In fact, I sometimes get totally turned off by what they want. But none would ever know that.

Getting back to poker…

Another reason that I love poker is that other people always underestimate me. Seeing me walk in with my low-rise jeans and stiletto heels, most people automatically assume that I’m a bimbo who’s just passing time while waiting for her boyfriend or husband.

So what happened to Tex? I don’t really know after he stormed off. But I won enough from him to mostly pay for my Vegas trip…

Strip poker anyone? :)