Open letter to my clients {excerpt from memoir number three}

April 6, 2015 Burbank Airport bar 1:58 p.m.


Yes, you. You crazy bunch of so and so’s. Which is a nice way of saying: You major freaks of nature! With your high maintenance ways and overly delicate feelings. Your constant need to be special—sometimes going as far as to hope that you’re my first—is tiring. You’re a black hole energy suck and you don’t even know it. You drive me bonkers! You can never get enough (which, I suppose I shouldn’t complain about since it puts money in my pocket), or more to the point, it’s never enough. And I give more than most hookers, believe me. In fact, most of my friends think I’m dead certifiable to put up with half of the shit I do let alone the full monty of your rampant neediness. I don’t even know how I do it sometimes. Oftentimes I want to donkey punch you and yell: “Please be content with what this is!” As well as, “stop making me jump through hoops and just give me the money, dammit.” You have no idea the delicate line I walk every single second we’re together. It speaks volumes to my finely tuned acting skills—which are on point. You would know this if you were privy to the dialog between my ears. It’s a rare moment when you feel I’m with you just for your money. But even the best prostitutes have their breaking point. I don’t think you understand what it takes to do what I do. In fact, I think my big heart and my compassionate nature has spoiled you into thinking that I enjoy this line of work: that it’s almost not like work at all. And while, yes, it’s my choice, it’s still a job for me. A few of you have half-joked that I’d be with you regardless of the money. You watched me smile and take another pull from my scotch. You know the score and yet you still need to make it out to be something more real than it is. Why isn’t it enough to have the situation be exactly what it is? You give me scratch in exchange for company, affection and sex. Which I appreciate. I have tits and love to give, you have cash and needs. It’s a win-win.


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