A Near Goddess Experience
You know you're a seasoned professional when conversations like this don't throw you.
Caller: Namaste, Beautiful Goddess.
I am deeply suspicious. I've taken yoga classes, so I know what "nah-mah-stay" means. But you see, gentlemen, when a potential new client calls me and we talk, what I'm doing is assessing him to see if he's going to fit smoothly into my system. So when I pick up the phone, and I expect the person on the other end to say hello, and instead they give me a Hindu greeting...Well, it makes me wonder in what other ways this person might not be what I expect – or want. The lesson is: do not strive to be unusual in your initial approach to professional ladies like myself. At this stage of the game, your manner should indicate to us that you will be a reassuringly familiar experience. Wait until later to start being unique.
Me: Namaste. Can I help you?
Caller: I have been reading your column and mediating about you for some time, Oh Goddess, and I wish to come to you so that our souls can be one.
Hmmnn, I don't recall "soul uniting" being on my published list of kinky specialties. I don't think this one's going to be a keeper. However, we'll keep an open mind about this for a little while longer. One would hate to throw out the pervert with the bathwater over what might be a purely semantic issue.
Me: Well, I'm not entirely sure what you mean by that. My name is Mistress Matisse. I'm a dominatrix. Is that what you're looking for?
Caller: You are the earthly embodiment of The Supreme Goddess. I wish to serve you.
Me: O-kay…So, if I saw you, exactly how is it that you would serve me?
Caller: I would anoint your feet and kiss them clean, Oh Goddess.
Me: That sounds nice. What else?
Caller: I wish to enter into a sacred space with you, Oh Goddess, and be purified by your whip. And then, when I have proved myself worthy, I beseech you to allow our souls to join together in ecstasy.
I consider what he's said. This "Goddess" thing he's into is not my usual style, but I might be able to work with it. There's that bit about souls joining together in ecstasy, though – that's worth clarifying.
Me: You do realize I am not a full-service escort, don't you?
Caller: Yes, Oh Goddess, you who are the source of all power, I know that I am but an unworthy slave who must never raise his eyes above your divine feet.
Well, he's going to have to raise his eyes above my feet at some point, or he may fall down my stairs.
Me: What's your name?
Caller: Clifford, Oh Goddess.
I have to hold the phone away for a moment because I'm giggling. Clifford? I mean, it's a perfectly nice name, I just would have expected something like – Ayodhya. Or Jafar. Something a bit more in keeping with this half-Eastern-spirituality, half-Goddess-worship kink he's got going on. But no matter.
Me: So, Clifford, you do know that my fee is $250 dollars for a one-hour session?
There's a pause. Oh, see, here it comes, I thought.
Caller: My Goddess, I wish to offer you tribute, but I am very poor.
Figures the religious type would be broke, doesn't it? This guy's problem is that he doesn't have his own television show. He's not the first one to call me and plead poverty in the hopes of a discount. However, these kinds of charitable donations are not tax-deductible.
Me: (in a pleasant but unencouraging tone) Oh, that's too bad.
Caller: Oh my Goddess? Your slave would ask you a question.
Me: Go ahead.
Caller: Does the Goddess permit her slaves to make their tribute by credit card?
I toy with telling him he could offer me cattle and casks of wine, just to see what he'd say, but he shows every sign of being dead serious about this Goddess thing, so I skip it. The last thing I need is some guy showing up on my doorstep with a heifer and a couple of cases of chardonnay.
Me: No, the Goddess requires cash.
Caller: Oh Gracious Goddess, would you be willing so allow your slave to visit you for a lessor tribute?
Part of me is strongly tempted to blast him with some Goddess-y indignation. "Offer ME lessor tribute, will you, puny mortal! For that, you shall be chained to a rock so that crows can pluck out your liver! Mwah ha ha ha haaa!"
Jesus, this schtick of his is infectious. Stay focused, Matisse.
Me: No, Clifford, I can't do that, I'm afraid.
Caller: (makes sound of distress) Oh Beautiful Goddess, I am forced to delay my visit to pay you homage.
Me: That's a shame. Well, Clifford, call me back when you're ready
Caller: Oh Goddess, may I meditate about you in the meantime?
Meditate, huh? I've never heard it called that before.