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A New York Escorts Confessions
Pillow Talk
Over the years, I’ve had my share of the intimate post-coital confession. There was the guy who told me he believed he was THE Cassanova in a past life (really), the girl who wondered if I had noticed that she had two vaginas, not one (It’s an internal medical condition. I checked), and the guy who admitted he had lost his virginity to a llama at sleepaway camp—and has been turned on by petting zoos ever since. But nothing really prepared me for what C said to me the other night.
I secretly refer to C as “middle management guy”. Think of that moniker and you’ll have a perfect picture: the oversized glasses that were popular (maybe) fifteen years ago, a slight paunch, a receding hairline, and a tie collection that can only be described as The Seventies—the unhip version. But C does have his charms. He’s thoughtful, a good listener, reliable, loyal. What he also is, clearly, is unhappy.
C is a CPA in a large firm, and has been doing the same job for decades. He lives in the same rent-controlled apartment that he grew up in with decor that hasn’t been changed since. He eats the same foods, buys the same brand of briefs, watches television during time slots regardless of what’s actually on.
C’s always very grateful when we get together. Most of the time he’s very quiet, but sometimes out of nowhere he’ll just spill. He’ll tell me childhood memories of growing up in the bad old days of Hell’s Kitchen, how he managed to save a client thousands of dollars on his last tax return, or describe in detail a birthday cake that he had when he turned thirteen.
He was on such a jag the other night, telling me of his idea to market a home-made mosquito trap he had designed as a kid. It had something to do with yeast and a bottle—I don’t know I started to nod off once he started talking about carbon dioxide. At one point he broke off mid-sentence, got quiet for a moment, then said thoughtfully, “I’ve always wanted to kill a man.”
I was about to respond with a default “uh huh” when the meaning of those words clicked into place. I rolled onto my other side and looked at him. “What did you say?”
“It’s got to be a two-liter bottle. That’s really important.”
And then he continued on with the science experiment talk like nothing strange had happened. Now I know when I start to nod off I can make stuff up. My college roommates used to beg to see my notes from Econ 101, a class that was at 8:00 in the morning. In the midst of all that guns and butter talk I would write down some pretty hilarious dreamy digressions. It’s a wonder I managed to pass at all.
But I was pretty sure I heard him right. Maybe I scared him with such a direct confrontation, with my surprise. And I really don’t think he’s the type to actually do anything. But still, a bit unsettling, no?
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confessionsComments
People sometimes can be exceedingly single minded.
In so much, they can hold a fantasy in their minds and be so focused on that fantasy that thought of the *actual* consequences of their actions simply don't occur; the fantasy crowds out reality.
It is however usually the case that people are sane and sensible; and a gentle tap of reality, a reminder to them of the consequences of their fantasy, brings the issue to their mind and they naturally refocuses their thought.
The fantasy, in its way, remains, but the chance of action receeds.
Stay away fro this lunatic.
By the way, I live on UWS and would love to meet you.
Posted by zorba on Jun 25 11:07AMEh, don't be too creeped out. People I know do this all the time, when they notice that they're not being listened to.
"So I says to Mabel I says.."
"Uh huh.."
"And then the coolest thing happened and.. I set fire to your mom's house."
"Uh h-- wait, what??"
The funniest parts are when they're not actually listening, and just keep saying "uh huh" no matter what you tell them.
Posted by Laurel on Jun 25 12:56PMYou know...I wouldnt actually put it past him. They say it's always the quiet ones...
Posted by David on Jun 25 07:30PMIt's like the gay who wanted join the Army.
The drill sergeant said: But could you kill a man?"
"Oooh, eventually...."
Posted by birdman on Jun 27 05:33AMPost a Comment
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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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Maybe he thought, correctly, that you were nodding off and was saying something outragous just to see if you were awake.
I really enjoy your writing. Below is a link for another columnist who writes in the Seattle Weekly, Judy McGuire,aka Dategirl. She is sort of a Dear Abby with a hip/punk edge. Sometimes very funny.
Posted by Seattlepilot on Jun 24 10:19AMhttp://www.seattleweekly.com/diversions/