Ouch. I’ve just become a statistic. Did you know 87 per cent of female escorts choose to have relationships with women?
Actually I made that number up, but these days it wouldn’t surprise me.
As a former journalist, I used to hear many things, I wrote many things and I assumed many things. One assumption I probably quoted in some article I wrote was that most sex workers are or become lesbians. Then I started working in the sex industry and I soon realised that was rubbish (along with all the other myths about the sex industry).
The women I knew who were escorts were mostly mums, wives or straight singles. They may have faked a few lesbian duos for clients but they preferred to date men.
I used to be like that. Until recently.
I have houseguests staying with me at the moment — a lesbian couple who’ve been together 12 years. Sure, they bicker like other couples, but I envy their relationship. (How many can say that about hetero couples they know?)
They just get it. I’m not just talking about the usual clichés like Sarah knowing automatically to hand out the Cadbury’s to Emily when she has her period or the fact they can share clothes. They totally get the complexities of a woman because they are one. They have real conversations about their emotions and feelings that would make a bloke’s toes curl.
There’s no power struggle, no expectation that “woman stay at home and man go out and work”, there’s no eye rolling when The Real Housewives of Melbourne is on, and what I’ve really noticed is that there is no EGO. (Don’t get me started on the male ego).
Don’t get me wrong, I adore the company of men. I love their manliness, their arms, their strength, their humour. I love admiring the suited men of the CBD (especially Melbourne — ladies will know why) marching by in nice suits, smelling nice, or hot tradies drilling holes in the pavement. Men excite me in a way women can’t.
But, having spent hours and hours in hotel rooms talking to them and really getting inside their heads, it’s clear to me that they are extremely simple creatures. As I observed in my book, Hooked, their simplicity was too complex for women to understand.
I know what the needs of men are — I’ve built a business on their needs. And let me tell you, no matter their profession, their social status, or how much money they have in the bank, their needs and brains are wired the same.
When it comes to conversations with some clients, I need to flatter and encourage them in the same way one might speak to an eight-year-old boy. “Wow — you’re so strong!” and “Of course I would love to see all your photos of your new fishing rod/car/tractor!”. One client spent the best part of our (expensive) time together showing me photos of his cars. All eight of them.
When an escort says the easiest part of her job is the sex, she means it. Put it this way — I’ve fallen asleep in bookings before. Not post-sex, but mid conversation.
But a woman… well, you can’t fool a woman. There’s no faux flattery, no fake orgasms. The conversation is colourful, deep and real. She would be onto you faster than you can say “Louboutin”. And I’ve yet to fall asleep when a woman is talking (especially when she’s showing me photos of her new shoes).
After spending lots of time with men, it’s the company of women I crave. Their softness, their smartness, their emotional IQ.
I find myself checking out women now in the shopping mall, in cafes. Am I attracted to them or do I just appreciate them so much more now — like stepping onto Australian soil when you’ve been away for a long time?
I’ve always said women are like cats and men are like dogs. And anyone who knows me well knows that I adore my two dribbly, dopey, loveable dogs.
But funnily enough, I adopted two kittens recently. Maybe I am becoming a cat lady after all.