I look at the phone. I shouldn’t answer it. Frankly, I almost never answer the phone anymore. I’m debating taking the number out of the ads in The Stranger and The Weekly, and just leaving the URL. Because I can’t recall the last time I booked a session with an unknown person who just saw my number in an ad, picked up the phone and called me, without doing any research or thinking about what might be involved. And most of the time when I answer the phone, it’s clear that’s exactly what’s happened. It’s my hope that having to punch up my website and look through a couple of pages to get to my number would make people understand that you’re not going to call me up and get in a room with me within the hour, because that is obviously what a lot of them think. I can’t truly blame them – there are definitely ladies who work that way. I don’t, however.
Okay, well, as it happens, I’m stuck in slow-moving traffic and I'm bored. (Yes, yes, I talk on the phone in the car. I know that makes me the Anti-Christ. Frankly, if I didn’t talk while I was driving I doubt I’d talk on the phone much at all. But I do not text while driving, so there.)
Caller: Yeah, hi.
Me: Can I help you?
Caller: Yeah, you sure can. You can definitely help me, heh.
Why do people do this? What do they think am I, Mistress Marvolo the Mind Reader? You called me, Mr. Fake-Sexy-Voice, you know who I am. Talk! Say something! We’re burning my minutes here.
Me: Excuse me, are you there?
Caller: Yeah, yeah, I’m just, you know, saying hey.
Obviously I’m going to have to ask the questions that he needs to ask, and then answer them, and then get him off the phone, because all this guy can do is throw out what he thinks are sexy lines. So nice to have to supply both halves of the conversation. Gee, if he came to see me, would he want me to be both the top and the bottom for the scene while he just sat there?
I’m not feeling particularly sweet today. Let’s get blunt.
Me: Why did you call me?
Caller: I want to see you.
Me: What are you looking for in a professional dominance session?
Not that I would see this guy even if he said his fetish was stuffing hundred-dollar bills between my toes with his tongue. Well - all right, I suppose that might get me. But he sounds like a teenage boy, frankly, and what I bet he’s going to say is something like…
Caller: I dunno, just curious.
Thank you for saying the perfectly wrong thing. I take his trick and say nothing.
Caller: So, you gonna see me or what?
A line from a very old movie pops into my head.
Me: I think you fall into the "or what" category*. Goodbye.
Click. I hang up.
*Name the movie/actor! No fair Googling it.