Why do People climb mountains?
A friend of mine who, when he was younger spent some time climbing. He described himself as a mountaineer and when he was asked the question, of why, he would reply: If you have to ask, then you won’t understand the answer.
So what does that have to do with my escorting? Well not so much me, but one of my clients. He was one of the guys that created an app, sold it off to one of the tech giants and had a “exit.” In short he was now rich, a nice apartment in one of Tel Aviv’s hi rises, vacations all over the world, etc. But it wasn’t always this way. He didn’t come from money. The years he worked on his app, the years, he worked a day job, carefully budgeted his income and costs which wasn’t easy (he was not looking for investors, bank loans). On top of that he is a self-described sex-addict.
Between his day job, and app development he always found time for his addiction. However given his budget constraints his visits to the brothels, strip clubs can best be described as in the more seedier parts of Tel Aviv.
And that is where I come in. My first visits with him were to the fancier hotels in Tel Aviv, not just the hotels but the VIP sections within the hotels.
Back to the Mountaineering analogy
My mountaineering friend once explained to me that it wasn’t so much as getting to the summit as it was the preparation and the climb itself. The summit was just the conclusion of the trip. My client, one late night, looking out at the Mediterranean Sea confided in me that he actually missed those days when his sex addiction took him to “steal a few hours of time from his busy schedule to visit the dirtiest of brothels, the sticky floors of the private rooms in the strip clubs.
He missed them so much he told me he bought an old broken down apartment, kept one room “as is” added a grungy old couch and put a pole in the room with some very poor lighting.
He asked me if I would be willing to meet him there. Well after googling the address and looking at the area via google maps I looked at him and asked him if he was crazy….he admitted that there might be something to that.
It was an area of Tel Aviv, that I would feel comfortable going only with a police escort, No doubt a sexy blond walking to that apartment would bring quite a bit of attention to me and it would be obvious what I’m doing there. I told him if I were to agree, we would need a better solution. This was worst then my sprint though hotel lobbies.
After a bit of brainstorming, I decided the best solution was not to hide my approach but to do it openly. I would be a foreign student / tourist looking for my rental apartment. Getting out of the taxi with a backpack would make me the poor student. We settled on a day visit.
The day approached and I was ready. brought an outfit that would contrast the sleazy atmosphere that I expected and filled my backpack up with a few additional clothing options, put on some “grunge clothes” no makeup and ordered the taxi.
Out of the taxi,I casually walked between the two buildings, struggled to push open the broken gate, and walked down the steps. I”m now below street level, darker, creepier. I count the doors on my right. The fifth is newer and seems to fit the hinges better than the others. I take out my key and enter.
I”m greeted by a cheap Neon sign on the wall that has an arrow, pointing to the left (he does have a sense of humor). This place has poor lighting, not that clean, with old, broken tiles, cracks in the wall, I’m starting to feel very very cheap, not a good feeling for me. I’m wondering if this is a mistake, but keep on going. I arrive at a new door, with the word ‘girls” painted on it. I guess that’s me I think and I enter, wondering if there are other girls there or will I find a few cockroaches for effect.
Quite the opposite, the room is very modern with recessed lighting, modern furniture, looks like a room for an actor. A large desk with a large mirror and lights around it, not to mention the full length mirror on the wall. A brand new shower. A filled fridge as well as coffee and other drinks.
The “picture” is clear to me, the second door in the prep room no doubt will lead to the grungy room where my client is. I check my email, where I see I have a message waiting for me. I reply I”ll be out in 30 minutes.
Choosing just the right outfit
I chose my white outfit, put on my make up and keep the lighting on in the back of the room so that my entrance will be that more dramatic when I open the door.
I open the door and just stand there for a few seconds before I approach, twirl around the pole once. His eyes are wide open I sit next to him, put my finger to his mouth so that he won’t say a word…..my plan? The experience will be real, just as he remembered it:
15-20 minutes and he’s done….and I’m out the door. After all, I’m the star of this place and I’ve got “other” customers waiting for me. :).
Given that he is a “stickler for details” I was not surprised to detect a bit of stickiness on the floor.