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A New York Escorts Confessions
The Fallout
I had a sighting a couple of days ago. Of my ex-roommate. Who hates me.
We were good buddies from college who decided to live together once we moved to New York. And all was well until John came into her life.
I should have known. I should have expected it. I watched as countless times before Jet systematically shut down friendships when other people in her life disappointed her, inadvertently insulted her, or crossed over some unseen line. I remember one time after she stopped returning her friend Cassie’s calls, someone from her childhood, I turned to her and said, “Hey. Just promise me something? If I piss you off in any way, will you tell me? Will you talk to me about it?”
“This has nothing to do with us.”
“I know. I’m just saying.”
“Silly.”
I guess if memory serves she never did promise me anything, did she?
About six months into our time in New York, Jet started dating John, a high-powered attorney. I wasn’t crazy about him in the first place, but as time went on, I started to actively dislike him. There was this time Jet was running a 105 degree fever and I rushed us to the hospital. Turned out she only had a bad case of the flu and was dehydrated. The next day John sent me a huge bouquet of flowers to thank me for taking care of Jet. I was outraged. Thanking me? I was her friend. That’s what friends do. I had this distinct feeling that there was some kind of possessiveness going on here. She was his. And I was just borrowing her.
Jet must have sensed my lack of approval. And soon she was making plans to move in with him. She shut down her land line account even though it was our land line. Same thing with the cable. When I called her to get the info, her parents wouldn’t let me talk to her.
About this time, I was traveling a lot myself. In the process I left my toothbrush somewhere in parts unknown.
So here’s the yucky part: I started using Jet’s. I don’t know why I did it exactly. Was that an act of possession too, a sort of counter attack to John’s? A desperate cry to get Jet’s attention? A female-centric pissing contest? All I know is a few days later, I couldn’t find the toothbrush when I needed it. She had hid it. And a week or so later, she hid herself. Away with him, and away from me.
Yesterday I saw her hand in hand with John as they rounded a Soho corner. I wanted to go up and apologize. I wanted to ask her—them—how they were. But how do you say I’m sorry I used your toothbrush?
They just don’t make Hallmark cards for that.
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confessionsComments
They should make Hallmark cards for that!
How about "I'm sorry I hit on your mom."
Or "I'm sorry I had sex on your bed."
Or "I'm sorry about the stains..."
All of these are perfectly acceptable additions to the "Roomates" line of Hallmark cards.
Posted by Modern Guy on Aug 30 01:22AMI have seen things like that happen between friends when a boyfriend comes along. The odder thing is that once the boyfriend is gone the ex-friends become friends again.
Posted by ole blue on Aug 31 02:43PMyou're truly precious and one in a million... your stories make me cry, laugh, smile, and other range of emotions... this one definitely cracks me up... Hallmark card saying "I'm sorry I used your toothbrush..." :D truly witty!!! :) thank you!
Posted by Pete from Cal on Sep 1 07:48PMI just wanted to let you know, I really enjoyed reading your blog! I read it all. You're an excellent writer! Thanks for keeping me entertained! Looking forward to hearing more of your stories and experiences!
Posted by elise on Sep 6 01:16PMPost 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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uh, that would be "sighting" not "citing" unless you experienced a moment where you were referenced bibliography-style
Posted by anon on Aug 29 06:53PM