My first time. This is my first blog and after nearly two decades in the sex industry, i have a lot to catch you up on. Let’s start at the beginning, please indulge me as i tell you about my first night as an escort. At ‘Pity Girls’.
Haha, Pity Girls. It’s an in joke. It’s what the other escort agencies nick named my work because it rhymed with it’s real name and because we apparently scored lowly in the ‘high class’ department. A reputation that as far as i can tell, seems to depend soley on the way the workers look and the cost of the rent in the building you work from. Stylish apartments and skinny 18 year old workers =- high class. Ex housing comission house in the suburbs and workers with stretchmarks = not high class. Having a reputation for being ‘high class’ as i found out 3 employers later, has nothing to do with good work conditions. In fact I don’t know why, but the nicer my surroundings have been, the more shit my work conditions were. I might explore this in another post. But anyways. ‘Pity Girls’ wasn’t high class. In any sense of the word.
After my big scary brush with the law earlier in the story, i had not returned to the sex industry. I had a go at other jobs that young people do, check out chick, delivered the paper, and other empowering careers like that. Hating on bosses, and early starts, and low wages it wasn’t long before my motivation to get up and go to work left me. On one of my ‘sick’ days i was watching daytime soapies with my friend. She had bought me lunch. I bitched about work, and demanded she tell me how she had afforded to buy me lunch AND a bunch of new outfits. And so tell me she did.
It was an easy decision to walk out on my lunchbreak at work the next day and not return. Knowing i didn’t want to be there, and having another option, it was almost too easy. Going for an interview and starting work as an escort was not a big deal to me. I didn’t loose sleep over it. After my first shift I didn’t feel guilty, dirty, violated or ashamed. I felt tired, and I felt satisfied that I’d worked hard and made money, and that I could do it again tomorrow.
At pity girls back in the day (mid 90’s), we got paid….. wait for it……. $35 for half an hour and $50 for an hour. My shifts started at 8pm and finished between 4am and 8 am. With the low pay and the time lost on the road travelling too and from bookings, on a busy night I took home $300. Yep, not high class. Not big bucks for long and tiring hours. But at the time, wow! that’s $300 in my pocket every night I worked. Not bad for an 18 year old. We had to pay for our own condoms and lube, and (i found out later) the business marked them up, so took a profit from that too. Bad form.
But at least at Pity Girls, we all had our own drivers who would drive us to and from bookings, take us to the door, take the money from the client keeping it safe, check the house out to make sure no one else was there, and wait out the front for us. They were paid to be our security. This wasn’t the case at other agencies I worked at later. I felt safe at Pity Girls. And stole a lot of the safety strategies i learnt there to use throughout my sex work career.
My clients ranged from young drunk guys after a night out, old lonely widows, husbands who’s wives are out of town, truck jobs, couples, lots of ‘party bookings’ where a group of clients would book a group of escorts (the sex was still one on one but often in the same room), fancy hotels, club houses and workplaces. Infact my first ever booking was in a gym, after hours, with one of the employees.
I was nervous about getting naked in front of strangers, as, like many women, I had some body image issues, but i resolved to fake it (confidence) till I make it. But giving a massage, letting them touch me, having sex… did not upset me. I found it easy right away, but it took me a while to develop a pattern and learn the ropes. It wasn’t until a week after i started sex work that A CLIENT told me that I was supposed to use condoms for oral sex. Woops. Just because you know how to have sex, doesn’t mean you know how to do sex work.
I stayed at Pity Girls longer than I should. Once i left there i realised how much money i could be making elsewhere. But it took so long to explore other options because i was scared. Scared of the law. Escorts are left alone by the police. It is too difficult for the police to get the evidence they need when the sex and exchange of money was taking place in a clients home. But the stories that management would tell us workers about police harassment at every other sex industry business ensured my loyalty to Pity Girls. For a while.