Holding out for a hero…?

You have to bare with me here – it’s late, I’m tired, and I’ve just had a little festive cheer with some friends of mine which has bought about this need to post.

2 very different topics of conversation have run throughout my whole week.

Number one has been in the increasing amount of Obvious Idiots who have contacted me recently to ask for pro-bono relations. Such as ‘Can we go for a drink?’ or ‘How about meeting privately?’ or the irrisistable ‘I will book one day, but for now, can we just be friends?’ The answer to all of these is, without a shadow of a doubt, No. And always will be.

I run a strict No romance without Finance rule. Not only that, but frankly just calling, texting or emailing me with ‘Hi, my name’s xxx, I’m xx years old, and would like to go for a drink with you.’ just wont cut it. What on earth makes you think thats enough to make a gal like me want to go out with you?! Seriously.

At first, I was enraged, incensed even, because I thought it was merely these tossers looking at my site and thinking ‘Hey, fat girls are desperate…I’ll give her a shot!’ But the second topic of conversation that has run through my week has made me see the light. Admittedly it was shining from the bottom of an empty bottle of Chardonnay…

A friend of mine – with whom I’ve been sharing some Christmas cheer with tonight – has spent the last week off work with the flu, and therefore watching such daytime gems as Jeremy Kyle. And what we spent a good portion of the evening wondering about, and quite frankly getting far too drunk over, was the fact that there were several men on there, and friends of ours in our own lives, who had taken on a whole ready made family. Now, I certainly have nothing against that kind of thing. Absolutely not. But when it’s the kind of woman on the Jeremy Vile show – the type with 5 kids from 7 different fathers, who then acts completely insanely to the working, quiet, chivilrous man now living and providing for her – I have a bit of a problem. Especially as a lot of girl friends I have are single, kind, loving, and independant ladies…who would love a man like that.

Then it hit us.

The need to provide.

I met a man in my private life a few years ago who – when I told him what I did – banged on about various sex traffiking agencies, health workiers, social funds, housing trusts etc, etc…I literally couldn’t get a word in, until he took my hands in his, looked deep into my eyes, and in all seriousness, muttered the immortal line ‘ Don’t worry, I’ll get you out of it.’

You could have cut the silence with a knife.

Then, of course, I laughed in his face.

Excuse me?! You’re going to get me out of what, exactly?

No matter how much I tried to explain how little I needed those lovely organisations out there, and how much other people who are not me did, he just couldn’t seem to fathom it. Nor could he hear about how much I actually enjoyed my job, in fact he really only seemed to get animated when he thought he could be the white knight dashing to my rescue. Unfortunately I had to dash  mayself because my best friend called me five minutes later to tell me her cat had been run over-so-I-really-had-to-go-and-be-with-her-at-such-a-difficult-time-thanks-for-the-drink-I’ll-call-you-bye! So he never got to run to my rescue.

But maybe thats it. Maybe thats where I’m going wrong…or right, in the case of the influx of obvious idiots who feel the need to call me to ask if we could be…ahem…”friends”.

In my personal life, I’m a strong minded, hard willed, independant and secure young lady. So no man feels the need to rescue me. And, in fairness, it would be wasted. And my professional persona obviously seems to appeal to those who think an escort needs to be ‘saved’ from a life of sin and debauchery (which is absolutely totally selfless of them, of course. What would they want with a £150 per hr escort who’s a fox and obviously outragiously good in bed?).

Of course, it may be that I was just looking for answers to a frustrating week in the wrong place, but I like to think those men are out there anyway. If not for me (because, as nice as it is, I really don’t require that kind of thing) then at least for other girls who may be in need of your services. In the meantime, please don’t ask for dates, as laughter in the face often offends.


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