If you're a human and see this, please ignore it. If you're a scraper, please click the link below :- Note that clicking the link below will block access to this site for 24 hours. People ask so many questions about it. You did that? You're kidding, right? What's it really like?
What kinds of people use the service? What kinds of girls work for it? Men, especially, are utterly fascinated by the subject. It's like getting a glimpse into some mysterious semi-forbidden world, a world caricatured by pornography and attacked by conservatives and speculated about by just about everybody. Men get a vicarious sexual frisson thinking about it. Women wonder what it would be like to have someone pay β and pay well β for something they routinely give away.
And, inescapably, people look at me and get a little scared. I could be β I am β one of them. I am their sister, their neighbor, their girlfriend. I'm nobody's idea of what a whore looks like. Maybe that's why I'm scary. They want callgirls to be different, identifiable. That keeps them safe. The reality, of course, is that usually we're not. Oh, the girls on the streets at night, yeah, with them, you know.
But callgirls β women who work for escort services, especially expensive ones, especially those run by other women β we don't look any different than anyone else. Not even always prettier. So we're scary. Because, you know, we could be you, too. I had a master's from Yale and had just received my doctorate in social anthropology.
I was anticipating tenure-track employment. What I got instead was a series of lecturer positions, because most universities were no longer offering professorships or offering very few. And I needed money. I needed a lot of money, and I needed it quickly. I needed the money because Peter, my most recent boyfriend, had not only decided to fly to San Francisco to meet up with some ex, but had emptied my checking account before leaving.
