I have been planning this post for days now. In my head it was supposed to be quirky and fun, but instead, I have a feeling it will be a little on the down side.
The other day, I had a very, very sweet client. We got along, he seemed interested in me (even though he fell asleep in the middle of me talking), but one thing struck me as very odd. He was a bigger man, pure body builder. Someone whom one would expect to see on Jersey Shore, covered in big tattoos. As I was asking him the significance and importance of each tattoo, he stopped in the middle and said, I am not a gangster if that is what you are thinking. I am no gangster (even though I have a diamond covered Rolex, their anniversary watch). It never occurred to me to think of him as one. But, either he was trying to hide that fact, or because of the way he looked, he had been mistaken for one more than once. (I couldn't tell if a person was a gangster even if they had a sign attached to them saying, "I am a gangster").
In any case, he then asked me what drugs I was into, and I said I don't do drugs. It took me three times to convince him that I do not do drugs. Knowing myself, I do not feel I look like the type of person who does drugs, but according to my job description, I apparently am supposed do them. If I didn't know better, I think it was a disappointment for him to find out that I was not the *stereotypical* massage girl.
Thinking about that these past few days, my new boyfriend told me that every day he thinks of ending our relationship. However, he could only do that when he sees me face to face (bravo to him) and as soon as he sees me, everything just feels right and he can't do it. To me, I have heard and said these very words many times before. But, for my ex an I, we were great friends, best friends, a perfect pair that way, but as a couple, completely toxic. I couldn't stand being invisible in his life and he couldn't stand me being so needy. But to hear it from someone whom I have only been seeing for a month really took the breath from my lungs and heart. I asked him, why would he wish to break up with me all the time. He said, this is crazy, I am dating a prostitute who is moving to X in a few months. Why would I stay. I pointed out to him that he only has dated girls who leave in much less time that I am staying so we know that isn't what the issue is. Which brings me to another comment that he made to me. "How can you stand hurting the ones you love by hurting yourself this way."
Close friends of his have been known to have problems with drugs or other self harming behaviour, and to him my job is one of those. Granted, this conversation came at a time when I told him horror stories of pimps. But that being said, try as I may, no matter how hard I try I cannot envision my job -the place I work in, the people I work for, the people I work with - as a self-harming world. All of my close friends have supported me saying that they couldn't do it, but I am different and as long as I am safe and careful and do not get killed, who are they to judge me. Most of my boyfriends have gotten off to the very idea of other men fucking me, especially if they know that I am in discomfort from a large cock.
Watching part of the movie Easy A, this young girl has lead everyone to believe that she will have sex with people for money. When a young man asks her out and tries to pay her with a gift card to Home Depot (always get cash honey, no gift cards dumbass) -ahem- she runs away crying. God how I know how that feels although, I had taken the Cash for the act. The problem was, my reality and everything that I had been taught clashed. Everything in society - what my parents had taught me, what my friends and I had debated, all told me - I should feel horrible for sleeping with a man for money. But instead, I felt sexy. I could not believe how beautiful he made me feel, how special he made me feel, how well he treated me. Not to mention how much money I had made, doing something that I was going to do anyways, with some older man who was just going to fall asleep after. But instead of having to stay for a ride home, I could afford a taxi and not rely on the sleeping ugly laying next to me.
So back to my client not believing I do drugs, and to my boyfriend who secretly wants to break up with me and who thinks that I damage myself. I purposely put myself in situations where I do not have to deal with drugs. I do not like drugs and most girls I work with and know, do not like drugs either. Just because I sell my body for money (I personally see no difference between me and a receptionist who is selling her time and body to do other chores) does not mean that I hurt myself. I may not love my job, but my job likes me. I have to keep myself in good health mentally, physically and spiritually, because if I do not, I Cannot do my job properly and safely. Everyone wants to get a little extra and I have to make sure that one of us is aware enough to ensure the safety for those who are waiting for us back home. I am not a bulimic or an anorexic or an addict (except for attention). My job not only allows me to survive, it allows me to flourish. It allows me to take care of my friends, help them out with their rent, or take them out to nice dinners or help them pay tuition.
I have lived my life with an addict, and her behaviour and my behaviour in my eyes (and perhaps I am completely biased) are different. When I tell my friend the addict that I cannot sit around her when she is performing her addiction, she has literally told me to leave her house. She has pawned me off to other people, and she has made me feel guilty for not wanting to share in her experience. I tell people right off the bat about my immoral lifestyle, it is their choice to be around me. If they do, my actions, my words, my life story, should be enough to convince them that I do not do drugs, that I do not with to hurt myself in any way, and that I do not wish to hurt anyone around me. How is my work any different than a man sleeping around with as many women as possible. Would my boyfriend have told me he didn't want to be my friend if I were a man who was trying to sleep with every women he came into contact with? Probably not. But until I find a job or a reason to stop being told how perfect I am and how beautiful, how angelic, how I look like I just walked out of a painting...until I find some way to make my dreams come to life, to ensure that my dreams come true (unlike some who say they want to do x, y and z but never do) how am I suppose to apologize for my work? How can I make people understand that from the hours of my shift, I sleep with men for money, after that, I do not. I have no interest in it. All I want to do, is go home, curl up with my cat, read a book and watch a movie.
No comments:
Post a Comment