So, I ended up working the phones for an escort agency last night.
In a nutshell…the details of how I ended up doing this aren’t very juicy…my hairdresser Gabbie used to do a bunch of local porn stars’ and escorts’ hair extensions. After listening to them yap about how big a cut their agency collected from their clients ahem donations she decided to open her own ”phone answering and appointment comfirmation” service. Gabbie no longer works in a salon since her answering service has the phones ringing off the hook 24-hours a day and is much more lucrative.
So as I sat in her house with magic foils turning my brown roots blonde yesterday afternoon, I had no idea what was about to unfold. There were four cell phones, a lap top, and a credit card processor. Three of the cell phones belonged to her top three girls: Tammy, Trisha, and Trinity. The third was Gabbie’s Blackberry. Note: if you’ve ever called a popular escort….she’s NOT the one answering her phone 
2:30pm: John from Snottsdale is a regular client of Trinity. He usually pays 3K per date. This time though he wants Trinity to meet him at 5pm at the Snottsdale air park so they can join the Mile High Club. “Now Johnny….” Gabbie drawls in her faux southern accent…”that qualifies as a fetish surcharge..and you know I charge double for fetishes….” He hangs up.
“He’ll call back.” Gabbie says “If old boy can afford his own private jet and 3K on land he can afford to pay 6K in the air.” she picks up her Blackberry and texts the real Trinity who is still at her 2 o’clock date.
Meanwhile Trisha’s phone rings. Cowboy Carlton in Cave Creek is a regular of Trisha. He wants a date at his house at 6pm. “Well, my dear…I just stepped out of the sh-ooower,” Gabbie says in a clipped British accent. “And my mum is visiting from across the pond…can we make it any later?” She keeps him talking while texting Trisha.
“Don’t these guys ever ask why you sound different on the phone than in person?” I ask Gabbie.
“Only one so far….”
Mile High Club John called back to confirm. Apparently it costs 6K to join the Mile High Club.
3:30pm: My foils are done. I hop in the shower. One thing about getting your hair done at the salon is that you don’t feel all the gritty bleach running down your back. Don’t get it in your eyes. It burns.
4pm: Gabbie’s mom starts making dinner. She’s from Philly too. She didn’t approve of Gabbie’s answering service at first, but after having a stroke and not making ends meet on a fixed income and skyrocketing health care…Gabbie moved home. Gabbie’s dad is literally on his deathbed in the other room. My hair is dry and ready to start extension-ing.
Gabbie attaches about 5 extensions to the nape of my neck. Tammy’s phone rings. Dr Beverly Hills 90210 is staying in the casitas at Snottsdale Princess Resort. He want a little afternoon delight. However, he is not a previous client of Tammy nor does he have any references. That means he must undergo a background check. Gabbie fires up the laptop and goes to her premium membership at Intelius.com and plugs in the info Dr 90210 gave her. No arrests, no warrants, no prison record….he’s cleared. Now, if only Intelius could tell us if he has any stds….
5pm I run to Albertson’s to pick up sour cream for the baked potatoes. Gabbie’s mom can’t drive after her stroke. All three phones are ringing off the hook as requests for Saturday night dates roll in for Tammy, Trisha, and Trinity. I actaully thought I’d still make it to Christie’s at this point.
Gabbie’s mom made a nice ham dinner with biscuits, salad, green beans and baked potatoes. And she had cake for desert! And after dinner coffee with biscotti!
6pm “OK, I’m going to just do hair now!” Gabbie says. Immediately all 3 phones ring. There’s a Suns game tonite. Baller wants Tammy after the game. I did the texting this time so Gabbie could free up her hands to do my extensions while answering 3 phones.
7pm: Dogshitman calls Tammy’s phone. He’s a prominent attorney that was involved with a little sports gambling incident that made national headlines last year. His usual request is to have someone throw dogshit at his door.
What Dogshitman doesn’t realize is that the number that independent escorts advertise on eros guide routes to a cell phone in Gabbie’s kitchen. He thinks he’s calling Tammy the independent….but he’s not. Gabbie knows him from when she answered phones for a now defunct agency.
Tammy is too high dollar for Dogshitman. I text one of Gabbie’s lower ranking girls. She’ll be happy with only making $200 for the night.
Gosh…I’d be happy to get paid $200 for throwing dogshit at someones’ door.
8pm: I start wondering if I’ll make it to work by 10pm. Gabbie’s mom made another pot of coffee. She also has some South Philly style soft pretzels and mustard. I start calling her “Mom.”
8:30pm Dogshitman calls Trinity’s phone. This time he wants a girl to break into his backyard (he gave Gabbie the gate code to his mansion on Mummy Mtn.) sneak into the backyard, and take a crap in his pool.
“Doesn’t he realize he just talked to you….when he called a different number?” I ask Gabbie again.
“If he does he doesn’t care…” Gabbie said as I texted another low girl on her totem pole.
“What if a neighbor calls the cops…can’t she get in trouble for breaking and entering?” I ask.
“It’s not breaking and entering unless HE presses charges. Not only did he volunarily give us his gate code, but WE have his credit card on file and can document that he makes similar purchases every two or three weeks.” Gabbie responds, threading another long blonde extension.
“What if the girl can’t poop on command….I mean…his request requires proper timing.” I think aloud
“Yep…thats why I charge him the fetish surcharge. Not many people can poop on command…”
9pm Gabbie’s Mom breaks out the coffee cake! Gabbie starts working on the sides of my head. The phones quiet down and the three of us discuss environmental determinism vs self-determinism. I am a huge proponent of Viktor Frankl’s theory of self determinism. Believing that I have the power to choose where my life is headed has been incredibly uplifting.
I’m not making it to CCP tonight…am I?
11pm My hair is finally done! By the time I drive Christie’s I won’t be on the floor until midnight. That only gives me 2 hours to work. Not worth paying the $90 fees in my opinion. So I drive home and get a full 8 hours of sleep! When was the last time I did that?
Tags: escort, escort agency, hair extensions, strip club, stripper
This entry was posted
on Sunday, March 2nd, 2008 at 6:23 AM and is filed under Strip Club Industry News, Strip Club Stories, Stripper Humor.
You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.
You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.
Perversions of the Rich and Famous
So, I ended up working the phones for an escort agency last night.
In a nutshell…the details of how I ended up doing this aren’t very juicy…my hairdresser Gabbie used to do a bunch of local porn stars’ and escorts’ hair extensions. After listening to them yap about how big a cut their agency collected from their clients ahem donations she decided to open her own ”phone answering and appointment comfirmation” service. Gabbie no longer works in a salon since her answering service has the phones ringing off the hook 24-hours a day and is much more lucrative.
So as I sat in her house with magic foils turning my brown roots blonde yesterday afternoon, I had no idea what was about to unfold. There were four cell phones, a lap top, and a credit card processor. Three of the cell phones belonged to her top three girls: Tammy, Trisha, and Trinity. The third was Gabbie’s Blackberry. Note: if you’ve ever called a popular escort….she’s NOT the one answering her phone
2:30pm: John from Snottsdale is a regular client of Trinity. He usually pays 3K per date. This time though he wants Trinity to meet him at 5pm at the Snottsdale air park so they can join the Mile High Club. “Now Johnny….” Gabbie drawls in her faux southern accent…”that qualifies as a fetish surcharge..and you know I charge double for fetishes….” He hangs up.
“He’ll call back.” Gabbie says “If old boy can afford his own private jet and 3K on land he can afford to pay 6K in the air.” she picks up her Blackberry and texts the real Trinity who is still at her 2 o’clock date.
Meanwhile Trisha’s phone rings. Cowboy Carlton in Cave Creek is a regular of Trisha. He wants a date at his house at 6pm. “Well, my dear…I just stepped out of the sh-ooower,” Gabbie says in a clipped British accent. “And my mum is visiting from across the pond…can we make it any later?” She keeps him talking while texting Trisha.
“Don’t these guys ever ask why you sound different on the phone than in person?” I ask Gabbie.
“Only one so far….”
Mile High Club John called back to confirm. Apparently it costs 6K to join the Mile High Club.
3:30pm: My foils are done. I hop in the shower. One thing about getting your hair done at the salon is that you don’t feel all the gritty bleach running down your back. Don’t get it in your eyes. It burns.
4pm: Gabbie’s mom starts making dinner. She’s from Philly too. She didn’t approve of Gabbie’s answering service at first, but after having a stroke and not making ends meet on a fixed income and skyrocketing health care…Gabbie moved home. Gabbie’s dad is literally on his deathbed in the other room. My hair is dry and ready to start extension-ing.
Gabbie attaches about 5 extensions to the nape of my neck. Tammy’s phone rings. Dr Beverly Hills 90210 is staying in the casitas at Snottsdale Princess Resort. He want a little afternoon delight. However, he is not a previous client of Tammy nor does he have any references. That means he must undergo a background check. Gabbie fires up the laptop and goes to her premium membership at Intelius.com and plugs in the info Dr 90210 gave her. No arrests, no warrants, no prison record….he’s cleared. Now, if only Intelius could tell us if he has any stds….
5pm I run to Albertson’s to pick up sour cream for the baked potatoes. Gabbie’s mom can’t drive after her stroke. All three phones are ringing off the hook as requests for Saturday night dates roll in for Tammy, Trisha, and Trinity. I actaully thought I’d still make it to Christie’s at this point.
Gabbie’s mom made a nice ham dinner with biscuits, salad, green beans and baked potatoes. And she had cake for desert! And after dinner coffee with biscotti!
6pm “OK, I’m going to just do hair now!” Gabbie says. Immediately all 3 phones ring. There’s a Suns game tonite. Baller wants Tammy after the game. I did the texting this time so Gabbie could free up her hands to do my extensions while answering 3 phones.
7pm: Dogshitman calls Tammy’s phone. He’s a prominent attorney that was involved with a little sports gambling incident that made national headlines last year. His usual request is to have someone throw dogshit at his door.
What Dogshitman doesn’t realize is that the number that independent escorts advertise on eros guide routes to a cell phone in Gabbie’s kitchen. He thinks he’s calling Tammy the independent….but he’s not. Gabbie knows him from when she answered phones for a now defunct agency.
Tammy is too high dollar for Dogshitman. I text one of Gabbie’s lower ranking girls. She’ll be happy with only making $200 for the night.
Gosh…I’d be happy to get paid $200 for throwing dogshit at someones’ door.
8pm: I start wondering if I’ll make it to work by 10pm. Gabbie’s mom made another pot of coffee. She also has some South Philly style soft pretzels and mustard. I start calling her “Mom.”
8:30pm Dogshitman calls Trinity’s phone. This time he wants a girl to break into his backyard (he gave Gabbie the gate code to his mansion on Mummy Mtn.) sneak into the backyard, and take a crap in his pool.
“Doesn’t he realize he just talked to you….when he called a different number?” I ask Gabbie again.
“If he does he doesn’t care…” Gabbie said as I texted another low girl on her totem pole.
“What if a neighbor calls the cops…can’t she get in trouble for breaking and entering?” I ask.
“It’s not breaking and entering unless HE presses charges. Not only did he volunarily give us his gate code, but WE have his credit card on file and can document that he makes similar purchases every two or three weeks.” Gabbie responds, threading another long blonde extension.
“What if the girl can’t poop on command….I mean…his request requires proper timing.” I think aloud
“Yep…thats why I charge him the fetish surcharge. Not many people can poop on command…”
9pm Gabbie’s Mom breaks out the coffee cake! Gabbie starts working on the sides of my head. The phones quiet down and the three of us discuss environmental determinism vs self-determinism. I am a huge proponent of Viktor Frankl’s theory of self determinism. Believing that I have the power to choose where my life is headed has been incredibly uplifting.
I’m not making it to CCP tonight…am I?
11pm My hair is finally done! By the time I drive Christie’s I won’t be on the floor until midnight. That only gives me 2 hours to work. Not worth paying the $90 fees in my opinion. So I drive home and get a full 8 hours of sleep! When was the last time I did that?
Tags: escort, escort agency, hair extensions, strip club, stripper
This entry was posted on Sunday, March 2nd, 2008 at 6:23 AM and is filed under Strip Club Industry News, Strip Club Stories, Stripper Humor. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.