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A New York Escorts Confessions
Land Ho!
I have never been so excited to see the grays of Kennedy Airport in my life.
You have no idea how long it took to get there.
The morning after writing my last post, I tried to catch an earlier flight. Okay, a much earlier flight. And as fate would have it, the airline was more than happy to oblige as they had overbooked my original plane. (Ah isn’t it good to know that capitalism has truly taken root in the former Eastern Block?). I would have a two hour layover at Charles DeGaule in Paris AND would get a coupon for $400 towards future travel. Hot dog.
Two hours would give me just enough time for a Kir and a baguette with Camembert. And a little bonus stroll around the Duty Free shops.
The flight to Paris went off with nary a hitch, as did the aperitif and sandwich. But then, you guessed it. The quintessential delay. Which resulted in a two hour layover stretching to four. I limped my way through French Elle and appeased myself with some brie. Boy oh boy they have good cheese in France, even in the airport.
Finally it was time for my flight. Yippee. I was finally going home. I hummed ‘Homeward Bound’ and tried to translate it into French in my head. It was kind of a useless exercise since I couldn’t remember the lyrics in English.
On the flight they served us lunch. Un sandwich avec jambon et—yes you guessed it. Cheese. I thought of just contenting myself with the ham alone, but somehow all the stress had made me hungry. Plus there was ample French wine with which to down it.
It was midway over the Atlantic when I knew I had a problem…
It suddenly occured to me that aside from the tiny side of steamed milk that I had had with my morning espresso each day, I hadn’t had any dairy products to speak of for a week. My system suddenly hit the eject button. Hard.
Luckily, the bathroom was a convenient three rows away. But seriously, everyone begins to look at you like you have a third arm on the—okay, tenth trip. Of course then I felt compelled to drink As Much Water As Possible. I have a strange fear of dehydration. Somewhere in another life I kicked off in the middle of the Sahara, I’m sure of it.
Anyway, seven hours later well-hydrated but hideously bloated, I touched ground in New York. I waited until everyone was off the plane, then sloshed my way to the exit. As soon as I hit the ramp I got down on my knees and gave the worn carpet une grande bise. I seriously wanted to ask if I could do the same to the tarmac but figured the Department of Homeland Security probably wouldn’t be too pleased with such a gesture. When I stood up, I saw the entire flight crew was staring at me. “Um…happy to be home!” I chirped, trying my best to not look like a crazy person. One of the attendants gave me a tight smile, then handed me a wet nap. Probably a good idea.
I kissed my carpet, my coat rack, my toaster, my ficus, my picture, my pitcher, my lampshade, my cell. I was on the way to kiss my laptop when nature called AGAIN. Shit, the human body holds a lot more…um…contents than you ever think possible, huh?
An hour later I crawled over to my suitcase to unpack. I had an exorcism to perform after all—to be rid of anything that conjured up ‘travel’ and reminded me of this god-foresaken trip. The suitcase was step number one. It was then that I remembered something. Oh right! I was now officially an international smuggler. I felt bold and dangerous as I lugged my two bottles of absinthe out and displayed them proudly on my table.
Then I hightailed it back to the bathroom.
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confessionsComments
And this is why I would NEVER, EVER serve a cheese fondue to a date.
There are some things you never need to see a lover endure.
Thanks for the imagery. Heh.
Posted by scribecalledsteff on Oct 25 01:23PMSounds like it was a good day to be your toaster. Or: airport carpet.
Posted by Jim on Oct 25 01:46PMI am very happy you are back home! What an awful experience... Atleast you got some liquor out of it. And your friend Ruby was there to comfort you!
Welcome home Alexa!!
Maizzy
Posted by maizzy on Oct 25 06:29PMNice!
I picked up a bottle of the green fairy whilst in Greece. Haven't cracked it open yet.
Posted by growden on Oct 25 08:26PMAh, sanctuary... at last.....
But then again, you need to take care that excesive 'nature calling for the bathrom' of yours. I would recommend chinese herbs medicine for that. Or at least a cup of hot jasmine tea, i'm sure it will calm things down.
Welcome home, can't wait to read your next post.
Posted by Mike@Mono on Oct 25 11:25PMcame across some Cannabis Absinthe when I was in Russia - i wonder how that one goes down ;)
Posted by xman on Oct 26 12:33AMAh yes,
The uncomfortable situation. The anxious male, the resentful female.
The distressed bowels...
Fabulous posts, Alexa, thanks!
I'll keep coming back, and I would be pleased if you paid my new little blog a visit.
Lucifleur
Posted by Lucifleur on Oct 26 01:23AMI smuggled a few bottles of Absinthe from Germany.. Man does that stuff taste like.. well.. everything I'm tempted to say it tastes like I haven't actually tasted, so lets just say it tastes bad. I didn't get any of the magical effects either, but I think thats because it is so nasty I didn't drink enough. The bottles sure look cool though.
Ah, the Green Devil...unfortunately, I haven't had the opportunity to indulge yet, but it's part of my housewarming present (to myself) once I'm finally stable. That, and if I can put off the military for a few months more, I might actually get to try the green lady :).
Posted by Jolly Roger on Oct 26 03:41AMGlad you are home safe Alexa! Try a cup of jasmin tea:-) I agree with Growden. Works wonders!
Posted by Kathleen Glyde on Oct 26 04:16PMHey
Yeah that entire trip was risky but you have good instincts (for the most part) but I still say you're lucky his wife didn't try to strangle you. 1. This guy is a child. I don't how he's (apparently) a successful businessman, with all his personal problems and character flaws. He was naive to think you could revive his marriage. I'm sure his wife stopped feeling attracted to him a long time ago. She doesn't trust him and is not comfortable with him. There's absolutely nothing you could to change that except make it worse. They need a phd'd sex therapist/counselor and he needs to grow up....otherwise, unless they have kids, and even then, his wife should totally move on. How could she ever hold respect for him at this point? Mr.P is sex-crazed, insecure and terribly immature. It's no suprise he treated you like that.
On another note, you can order absinthe online. It's perfectly legit. You're just not allowed to RESELL it. I got some SEBOR, from the czech republic. It still tastes like crap but it's smoother than most. Only 110 proof..cost about $100 w/shipping. It's 350 centiligrams which is a bit less than a standard US 750 ml. I don't know..you do the conversion..damn metric system. Thanks for the stories and thanks for the details about your BMs (bowel movements) I love reading about people taking a dump. lol. not really. until next time....
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about me
So why am I writing this blog? I have an inner exhibitionist that just needs to be let out. I've always wanted to bare myself completely in front of strangers but have always been held back by fear.
As strange as it may sound, I've never really truly bared myself in front of any of my clients. For all that they've seen, they've never seen me be me. And for all that I've seen, I simply need to share it with you!
So why should you come? To be tantalized and teased. To get release by knowing the true me.
I promise that I won't bite, and if I do bite, I'll make sure you like it!
my favorite posts
- Caveat Vendor - Part II
- Selling Out (Part III)
- Poops!... I Did It Again!
- My First Escorting Experience
- My First Lesbian Experience
- Daddy's Little Girl (Part II)
- Selling Out (Part III)
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Oh man, thats an awesome way to end your trip. Smuggling a very illegal alcoholic drink. You really are a naughty girl ;)
Posted by Nickki on Oct 25 12:20PM