retro model in


Working nine-to-five

I am conscious that the number of blogs I have written has stalled lately. Fortunately for me, in spite of the recession, summer is the busiest time of year, and I am often away from London for professional purposes. I am available, but it requires a degree of planning, understandably, the terms and dates I am able to offer for a meeting are rather restrictive and perhaps not amenable for frivolous flights of fancy. Having stated that, I have never been a ‘full-time escort’, it has always been a supplementary career. I am a woman of many talents and some of them just happen to useful beyond the bedroom. Besides it is fairly natural that I should have aims and dreams to realise. For a number of people, the seeds of those dreams are rooted in their adolescence. As a teenager, there’s no way I could have pictured myself as the sexual deviant escorts are supposed to be. I was fearless and confident enough to recognise that the opposite of sex could be a distraction to my achievements. I was brash enough to say as much, so my peers probably thought I was a little odd.‎

‎I think if the puny, geeky thirteen-year-old me could see the thirty-something woman I have become, her little, nun-like presence would be flabbergasted. It is more challenging to find me in the end-of-year-school photo than a game of ‘Where’s Wally’. It’s not like I went to the school careers advisor and stated “I enjoy dressing up in sexy lingerie and I am skilled at oral sex. What do you suggest?” Even if this had been put into an alithogram, I doubt anything more inventive than, “have you ever thought about becoming a secretary?” would have been recommended. It is not odd or strange to focus my talents elsewhere, even if some may assume that escorts wait around in stocking and six inch heels all day. Unfortunately, whilst that fantasy may well be true for any time spent together, I would be the first to say, I am a plain Jane and I am delighted that I have these two identities. By day, I dress in informal business attire, I do not wear a lot of make-up, and my hair goes up into a top bun or plait. It makes dressing-up even more enjoyable, quite often my colleagues fail to recognise me when I make more effort, which is just as well.

As the eldest of four siblings, I have been gifted with an inbuilt-work-ethic. If I didn’t work, I didn’t get the things I wanted. I did my fair amount of baby-sitting as a teenager but the strangest job was helping my mother in a care-home. The evening would start normally enough, I would help with tea, cakes and cleaning up. Then as my mother would put the residents to bed, I just had to keep the other guests occupied. That was the cushy part of the job, they would tell me stories about their youth and encourage me to eat all their cakes. I used to wonder at their tissue -thin-skin and pinch mine to compare. The worst part of the job was sleeping in the care home overnight, it is relatively impossible to sleep in a house when come the morning, one of the residents may have died. Naturally this had a damaging effect on my mother. Sometimes, comedy is born out of tragedy.

During the nightly resident checks, my mother found that one of the residents had died in his sleep. The problem was that rigamortis had set in and this renders the muscles immovable. When a resident dies, for the sake of dignity the eye-lids are closed, and false teeth are placed in the mouth which my mother attempted to do. However, once she did that, she couldn’t close the gentleman’s mouth. The effect of his toothy smile would be too startling for his family to see, so she tied a ribbon around his head his jaw in an effort to close it. Yet all she succeeded in doing was making him look like Bugs Bunny, only with ribbons for ears. I shouldn’t find the image hilarious, I hope I take care of my second set of teeth so that I don’t experience the same. In general, early morning was the toughest part of the day. I had to keep an eye on one of the residents. Except this resident was sprightly and senile. Florence would sometimes decide to turn on the gas taps in the kitchen, or help herself to hot water, due to her condition, she was a walking accident zone. I relied upon an unlikely source of support, Mr Motivator. That and a jigsaw or two was just about long enough to keep her active and out of the way until all the other residents were woken up. She was a child-like rascal, when the news of Florence’s death came, it wasn’t so comical. After that I had a rack of part-time jobs, I had two whilst I was completing my last year at school. I worked in a small little village shop for the cousin of Ebenenezer Scrooge and the village restaurant. It was the first time I learned that it is possible to work too hard, I was a full-time pupil and full-time worker. I remember one particular night well because I became very sick, I had glandular fever. Rather oddly, a customer decided to ask me out. I started the day well enough, but after the first hour at work, every muscle in my body was burning red-hot, I looked like a over-ripe tomato and my glands were the size of tennis balls. Still, the guy in question obviously thought I was worth approaching, or maybe he just liked red-hot girls.

It didn’t matter to me that I had to work long hours, or doing manual work, whether that meant cooking in a hot, oily kitchen, or in customer service with lots of aggressive, disgruntled customers. They were all typical jobs for a young person, I was proud to do my best in each of them. I found an advantage for each position. I learned to play Pool and Snooker after shifts at the bar, and when the restaurant was empty the staff would have water fights in the kitchen. Later, I was a book merchandiser and I was able to sample the newest fiction for free. I also worked for a well-known optometrists, I was a receptionist which was a little dreary, the cute optometrist helped to brighten the day. Yet, best of all, I had to conduct the non-contact, air-puff tonometry tests and this suited my sadistic side. It is a rather unpleasant test that shoots a burst of air into patients’ eyes to test for diseases such as diabetes. If any of the customers were snotty, I would feign inexperience whilst conducting the test in order to repeat it. Obviously whenever I got to work within the career I was actually interested in, I relished it more. The point was I was happy to work in all these jobs, so long as the reward was to qualify for my desired profession. The obvious downside to all of these positions is that I wasn’t paid very much. Certainly not enough to support myself whilst studying for ‘A’ levels once I moved out of my parents’ house. ‎ This was before the national minimum wage and I was earning just enough to pay the rent and eat. For me it was a seminal moment, I recently read David Copperfield, and simply put, I was at risk of having to give up education to spend my life on the equivalent of putting labels on jars. Fortunately, I don’t live in Victorian England. It’s funny how a solution presents itself just when you need it, but it wasn’t one of Dicken’s fairy Godmother solutions. One of my college class mates revealed that she worked in a table-dancing bar. She told everyone she was a dancer, in fact she was a barmaid, I think she enjoyed winding everyone up. That didn’t matter, I resolved that I should at least call the club and decide if this was the answer. I naively went to the bar prepared for an ‘interview’. I respectably wore a shift dress, pretty buckle shoes and tights. Let’s say, I wasn’t very prepared to get naked which was always going to be the obvious outcome of this particular interview. Obviously I removed the most difficult item of clothing before the owner asked me to dance for one of the other girls. He said at the end that I would make a very good dancer, and in time, that was true, I even ended up teaching the other girls how to pole dance. On the way home after the interview, I cried and laughed that I had the gumption to go to the club, but mostly I was relieved to have found a solution.

On the whole, it was actually rather good fun and I travelled abroad, although there was a lot of sitting around. Also, I found myself answering the same questions all the time, I felt like Cilla Black on Blind Date - “Tell our Graham, what’s your name and where do you come from?” Fortunately, I had a definite aim which helped me to avoid boredom and making money a priority. Some of the girls who worked full-time certainly had a loose sense of perspective. I went with one of the girls to Camden market on our day off and she bought a dog collar with ‘BITCH’ written on it. I was amused when she told me I was wasting my time with “this degree crap”. I thought at first maybe she was right, maybe trophy wives win through in the end. But the last I knew of her, she was in the Sun for sleeping with Dec from Ant and Dec, and then she was on the Ruby Wax show. There were one or two girls that seemed entertaining, well at least when they were intoxicated. It was rather depressing to find out after some ten years of dancing, earning quite a lot of money, they had little to show for it besides some designer clothes.

I learned to keep the same sense of perspective as an escort, and in truth, being an escort could only ever be part-time. I have no idea how other ladies who don’t study, have kids or work pass the day. I have had a week off from both studying and working on holiday, and I am already twiddling my thumbs. I am very lucky to have earned my way into a career that is satisfying and puts me in contact with the most intriguing, comical and intelligent people. I actually look forward to Monday morning, I wouldn’t trade it for mornings with Jeremy Kyle just to handle a couple of phone calls. The result is that I am rarely available without a few days notice which probably doesn’t suit how a man’s mind works. To those gentlemen who persevere in making arrangements to meet me, I understand the effort this requires. Especially because in the past seven years, I have lived in Austria, Italy, Japan, Ethiopia and Russia. At the moment, there is no reason to end what I have always deemed my ‘supplementary career’ so long as I am happy and broadly speaking, I spend time with people who are intelligent, challenging and just a touch bizarre.

I am a very pretty and petite, London based professional companion, retro model and escort, who loves retro styles of femininity, seamed stockings and when allowed, red lips.

The issue with trying to explain more about myself is where to begin.

I always prefer to share much more in person, and leave a few surprise elements to be enjoyed. Plus, I have experienced so many different things and I continue to desire many experiences, just like any healthy woman of my age.

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