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Topic Started: Oct 21 2014, 05:13 PM (63 Views)
George K
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Finally
Of men have visited a prostitute:


Twenty years ago, my girlfriend died. At the same time, my career was taking off, demanding more time and energy. When I came out of mourning, I was an engineer in Silicon Valley entering the first dot-com boom, and the odds of finding love were long. Santa Clara County was known for having the highest ratio of single men to single women in the country. And let’s face it, tech workers are not the most socially adept.

Instead of seeking love, I sought success. I helped found a company in 1997, then helped build it to something we sold more than a decade later. In the time others might spend pursuing a relationship, I created a successful enterprise. I tried some popular dating sites, but to little success. To satisfy my physical needs, I turned to professionals.

The late ’90s were a bad time to find quality sex workers. Sometimes, I might call an “Escort Service” from the yellow pages, and if I was lucky, the person I met was halfway close to what was described. Once, I found I had been robbed by the girl. Unluckier patrons had much worse experiences.

There were also back pages of local weekly newspapers like the San Francisco Metro, where I’d squint at small panel ads and take some guesses before trying the number. More often than not, I’d end up wasting an evening. It was all so sketchy: Most ads didn’t include pictures, so I had to rely on written descriptions. I’d usually need to try a few ads, leaving my number on each of the voice mails, because only one in four would call back. Then I had to ask about the rate, location, availability. (The dates were about $150-$200/hour back then.)

Once, when I was waiting for call back from a woman I’d seen before, the phone rang. I picked up to hear the voice of a woman who sounded a lot like her — but turned out to be my sister calling from a pay phone. Whoops. Fortunately I figured this out before I busted myself, but it was a very awkward start to a conversation.

This old-school method was never seamless. Even if I made arrangements, there was no guarantee of action. I can’t recall the number of times I went on wild goose chases; I’d go to a service station and call from a phone booth, and get no answer, trying again a few times before giving up and going home.

It wasn’t easy for the sex workers either. Many were pimped, or were victims of trafficking. They went into appointments blindly, always unsure who was on the other end of the line. Their best defense was the two-call system, where that second call from a phone booth was near enough to the woman’s apartment that she could check out the customer visually before allowing him to visit. But in this environment, no one was safe.

The Internet revolutionized sex work....
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jon-nyc
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Cheers
Interesting piece. I feel a bit sad for the guy.
In my defense, I was left unsupervised.
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