I had a civvie tell me today...so when are you going to tell me about your secret life....

I need new alibis.

And, like Forrest Gump, that's all you have to say about that!

Doubtful they'll connect the dots and figure out that you're a provider.

Last year I was heading out of town to Detroit in February and knew that other than work there was nothing I wanted to see.  Therefore, I did some research on escorts in town and who I may want to see.  It turns out that traveling agency ladies were my best choice based on where I was staying and the number of hours I was going to be working.  I headed out of town with five ladies as possible choices.

I got to the hotel and started trudging through the snow in the parking lot to the front door.  A cab was in front of the hotel letting off a very attractive redhead.  She turned and smiled and I returned the smile.  We both checked in close enough to hear each others real names while checking in.  As I walked away, I could have sworn this was one of the ladies I had researched as a possible companion.  

I went up to the room to check out my suscpicions and saw that I was probably right.  Oh well, I thought, what a coincidence.  This will be easier to set up the appointment.  I decided to clean up and go for dinner.

I went down to the bar and had dinner and who should walk up but my potential companion.  We had a great deal of small talk as we were never alone to talk about my ambitions as the bartender or other customers were always around.  Needless to say, she told me a story that was not too consistent if one paid attention.

I finally told her that I knew what she was there for when we were alone.  Her first words were "Am I under arrest?".  I had to then show her my ID from CA and tell her that she had been one of my choices for companionship if I had time.

I never did see her because of our schedules but we both got a laugh out of it.  Maybe something like this happened to you.  If you are making up a story about a life, people with attention to detail may catch inconsistencies.  He also may have researched you too!

I'm surprised you are able to keep a cover at all.  Is it all about the alibis?  General question: how does a provider "turn things down" for her civilian identity?

A related question: are you ever tempted to "let things slip?"

/Zin

1)  Spy doing undercover work for the U.S., so don't ask or   I'll have to kill you.

2)  News reporter under cover.

3)  Split personality.

4)  Nymphomaniac.

I'll test it out. I'll answer so what do you do, with instead of breathe, ummm....prostitute, expensive call girl, or porn star...but I do all my own nude scenes....lol.

What the heck. I'll give it a whirl. Slippage? Yes. I'll elaborate later on this one. Worthy of its own proper unfolding.

I like those too.

I saw you this morning.
You were moving so fast.
Can’t seem to loosen my grip
On the past.
And I miss you so much.
There’s no one in sight.
And we’re still making love
In My Secret Life.

I smile when I’m angry.
I cheat and I lie.
I do what I have to do
To get by.
But I know what is wrong,
And I know what is right.
And I’d die for the truth
In My Secret Life.

Hold on, hold on, my brother.
My sister, hold on tight.
I finally got my orders.
I’ll be marching through the morning,
Marching through the night,
Moving cross the borders
Of My Secret Life.

Looked through the paper.
Makes you want to cry.
Nobody cares if the people
Live or die.
And the dealer wants you thinking
That it’s either black or white.
Thank G-d it’s not that simple
In My Secret Life.

I bite my lip.
I buy what I’m told:
From the latest hit,
To the wisdom of old.
But I’m always alone.
And my heart is like ice.
And it’s crowded and cold
In My Secret Life.

Leonard Cohn

I have an internet pen pal -- a woman -- that I correspond with on subjects of mutual interest that have nothing to do with the hobby.  We've gotten quite close, even though we haven't met in person, and in the course of our friendship I disclosed a bit of my "secret life."  To my surprise, she was fascinated with it and demanded that I give her a chapter-by-chapter recitation.  So I did -- and with every installment, she had a gazillion questions.  I suspect part of it was healthy curiosity, part of it was vicarious living.  But it was nice to be able to share it with someone who knows nothing of this business and who was not judgmental.

in reading the book "Turning Pro", by Magdalene Meretrix - available from amazon.com

I never get his last name spelled correctly.  Thanks for the reminder.

the more outrageous your alibi the more believable it will be.
I'm sure if you told someone that you were a space alien doing an anthropological study of contemporary western culture it wouldn't raise an eyebrow.(at least not in your neighborhood)
OR give them a half truth. Tell them you're the great grand-daughter of Mahta Hari.

  FR.

I did have a session with a provider who told me that she contracted with the state department.

That's a good alibi, I guess, for both identities.

/Zin

I remembered this from past readings...reminds me of my younger days and BTW, I substituted my ole' 69 Ford Torino for the 70 Mustang...lol..I think we all had a neighborhood " Ethel" at one point in time.

A quick narrative. I always wanted a hopped up muscle car when I was younger. I couldn't afford one. Now I can, and I have one. It is a '69 torino, and her name is Bessie. Bessie is the prototypical juvenile, male-caveman, scratch your crotch and drink cheap beer car. Chromed engine, dual exhaust, 250 horsepower, big tires, tra la la la.

I'm driving Bessie on Beach Boulevard behind an ancient guy in a beat up truck. He decides to turn in front of me without a blinker. I accelerate to swerve and avoid him, and this assh*le, overaerobicized woman jumps in front of my car with her hand up.

Meet Ethel, the neighborhood busybody/nuisance. She proceeds to yell in my window, "Hey, slow down you %$&#@ idiot." I'm a well-bred, mellow guy by nature, so I ignore this. As I drive away, she yells, "assh*le" at me again. Twice? *&%$# that. I turn around and drive up next to her.

"Do you have a problem?" I ask.

"Yeah, why are you driving like an idiot?"

"I was driving like an idiot? How, exactly?"

"You were speeding. I watched you." "You were? I see. How did you measure my speed?" (Ever the interrogator, I am.)

"I heard you."

"So, you measured my speed by ear?"

"I can hear."

"How fast did you HEAR me going?"

"Look," she says, "I don't have to take this. Here comes a cop. I'll wave him down."

THE POLICE? This woman is a trip. She waves him down, and proceeds to tell him that she observed me speeding.

"What happened?" he asks. I told him the story, and told him that I accelerated to an indicated 30 mph (the speed limit is 50) to avoid a collision.

"Are those mufflers legal?" Ethel asks.

She's pushing it. I reply, "I have a C.A.R.B. exemption for them." I give the paperwork to the cop.

She tries to find another thing to screw me with. She says "What about those big tires? They CAN'T be legal. " I began feeling little overheated gears in the back of my head start to turn.

"These tires were available on the 1969 Boss 429, " I told the cop, " Which makes them street legal as a replacement."

Ethel gets angry. She whines, "So you're not going to give out any tickets to this assh*le?"

The cop says, "No, I am not."

I've about had it. So I say, "Sir, this woman told you that she left the street at the corner, and then she met up with my car here. According to Title 19, pedestrians have to cross the street at a right angle. This woman admitted she crossed at a 45-degree angle, which is a ticketable offense."

"What?" The cop looks confused.

"Also, she told you that she walked in front of my car to stop me. A citizen can't detain someone without probable cause, under Terry v. Ohio (My new favorite case). Since she couldn't measure my speed, she had no probable cause to detain me. That is an indictable offense."

The cop says, "But, I didn't see any of this."

"But," I said, "I did, and, as an officer of the Court, I can demand her arrest. I'll agree to dismiss the Illegal Detention charge, but I want her cited for not crossing at a right angle and Hazardous Conduct on a Public Street."

The cop called his Lieutenant, and after the cop told the story, he authorized the summonses.

She went home with $315.00 worth of traffic tickets, and they are worth a total of four points against her license, as well as the appropriate insurance surcharge!

Of course, if she demands a trial I won't prosecute. But the look on her face as she walked away was more than enough satisfaction for me.

Yeah, I've passed the bar, and I'm on a mission from God.

Cheers!...Elwood sound effects below....

Hey -- it's supposed to be a *fake* identity...

Cheers!

That she often was called to be a Server at cocktail parties and the like and that her employers wished that she kept their home addresses/party times private.

I'm not a provider, just a phone op for an agency, but even that is totally scandalous for my family, so I tell them that I work nights at an inbound call center for catalogue and internet sales.  Tonight, my sister called telling me that she had just ordered some stuff from the LL Bean catalogue and asked the customer service girl if she worked with me!