Prostitute Typology
July 30, 2008
I recently finished as book called Rent Boys, by French researcher and sociologist Michel Dorais. The book is a summary of his analysis of male sex workers and how they relate to their work. His findings are interesting to me because this was the first material of any depth I’ve read on the subject of male sex workers – almost all research on prostitution involves females, as you might expect. I was looking forward to reading the book primarily so I could relate the male experience to that of females in the trade. I’ve read a plethora of material on female prostitution, and conducted my own limited research on the subject, but with the possible exception of a brief discussion or two in a class, the subject of male prostitution was hardly referenced to any serious degree in my academic studies up to this point (other than to mention the dearth of research! lol).
One of the first things that caught my attention was a taxonomy Dorais developed to classify the male prostitutes he studied. He defined four types, and described them thusly (note that the descriptions are my paraphrasing/summary of the author’s work, not his original words, generally speaking):
Outcasts is the term assigned to those who are turning tricks to support a drug habit or forced by poverty to prostitute to make ends meet. Almost without exception these individuals are substance abusers and in many cases are addicts. It is not uncommon for these people to have started prostituting at a very young age (they were the earliest entrants to the sex trade), and many come from abusive family lives. Self esteem among this group is exceedingly low, and their despair is palpable. The group had by far the highest number of individuals sexually abused as children.
Part-timers are those who opt for sporadic sex work primarily to supplement other income and pay off debts such as student loans and car notes. This group typically began sex work at the latest of the four groups. Drug and alcohol use is rare in this group and is more or less absent as a motivating factor. They are comparatively well educated. Sex work is generally discreet, undisclosed to family and friends. Despite initial apprehensions, they may come to derive a degree of self-affirmation from prostitution.
Insiders are individuals who have grown up in and around the sex trade to the point where they come to view it as their primary social circle. They may have been encouraged by their families of origin, a (biological or foster) mother who worked as a prostitute, for example. They do not regard sex work as a desperate resort but as something natural, an honorable living, so to speak. The group uses drugs and alcohol to various degrees. Some have tried “other things” as occupations, but returned to the sex trade because they missed it, it seems like “home.”
Liberationists are those for whom prostitution is a way of living out fantasies, exploring new experiences and partners, and profiting from their discoveries. The age of entry is highly variable, from 16 to 30. The majority did not experience severe problems during childhood; they maintain good if distant contact with their families. They have significantly higher education levels than their colleagues, and exhibit high self esteem and an overall positive outlook on their activities and clients. All of them stated that they chose sex trade for the many personal and relational advantages it offers. They see their work as an opportunity to affirm their sexual orientation or preference and to grow as an individual.
If you’ve paid much attention to my writings on this subject, you’ll recall that I have broken female prostitutes down into three categories: Streetwalkers, itinerant prostitutes (part-time escorts and Craigslist prostitutes), and those who use it as their primary means of income. Those roughly translate into Dorais’ outcast, part-timer, and liberationists taxa respectively. I’ve not personally encountered anyone who would fit into the insider category, though I have seen them on documentary shows about prostitution (specifically women who followed their mothers or other relatives into the trade).
Dorais’ description of the types mimics what I’ve found to be the situation with respect to the three mirror types that I use, on almost a point by point basis. When I did my interviews with the streetwalkers, for example, every single one of them was either drug addicted or forced into prostitution to keep from losing their children or their homes due to financial insolvency. And to a person they’d all indicated they’d not be doing it if they had another way to make sufficient money to accommodate their needs.
Similarly, my interviews with the women who occupied the higher rungs on the escort ladder found that they were highly educated, had high self esteem, and had a positive outlook on their lives, their work and their clients. They enjoyed their work and used it to provide a robust financial base for themselves. Each of them indicated that they had no plans to get out of the business in the near term (though half of them were using the work to pay for post-graduate education).
Quite honestly, I was amazed at A) the fact that Dorais’ classification scheme was basically a mirror image of the one I had personally adopted, and B) the similarities between the two genders’ experiences within each type. The only real disparity between what he found with the males and what we see with females is the much higher prevalence of pimps or controlling individuals with women. The only time you generally see pimps with male prostitutes is where underage boys is concerned, according to Dorais.
His results basically reaffirm what I’ve found, and what many researchers have found about prostitution in general. Many who do it are forced into it through circumstances, but there are a great many people who go into it voluntarily, fully informed, fully cognizant of what the work entails, the opinions and “research” of the likes of Farley et. al, notwithstanding.
It is always irritating to me when someone who’s never worked in the sex industry opines about what it is like for those who do. They feel that they are able to characterize whether or not we enjoy the work, whether we are doing it consensually, and so forth. And they often go so far as to imply that the fact that we are paid for it removes the element of true consent. By their logic, when you pay a mechanic to work on your car, you’re actually forcing or coercing her to do it, since you’d be removing her consent as well. 
Rage Against the Man-chine effluviates on her blog:
Still, I would tend to argue that, since they’re being paid to fulfill a desire that comes out of someone else’s psyche, sex workers are exercising very little of their own sexuality and almost no real power.
This is where you can see that she’s never been a sex worker - she has no concept of the fundamental power dynamic that exists between an escort and the client. We get to select which clients we see (exerting control), what rates to charge (exerting control), how long the session lasts (exerting control), what sex acts, if any, we engage in (exerting control), and so on ad infinitum. But, then, these folks exist in a two-dimensional world, where anything that manifests itself outside of the X or Y axis doesn’t exist. Their argument in opposition to this is that we’re just under the illusion that we’re exercising power. I hope those deposits I’ve been making into the bank aren’t similarly illusory. 
You really can’t blame them, though. I mean, what they know about prostitution they gleaned from the media, and when you see stories about prostitutes in the media, you invariably see the streetwalkers, the outcasts. For many people, this is the totality of their exposure to and understanding of the concept of prostitution. Quite honestly, my assessment of the trade was similarly aligned until I began to get into the serious exploration and research I’ve done over the past couple of years.
The reality is that those on the street represent only 10% of the total prostitute population. The only time you hear anything about the other 90% is when someone like Eliot Spitzer or Deborah Jeane Palfrey gets busted, or when the local fuzz conducts a sting of prostitutes operating off Craigslist. And then to “color” the news reports, you have the likes of Tracey Quan, Amanda Brooks, and other women who, you know, actually worked as escorts and enjoyed it, on television stating that they enjoyed it. And yet, still, no one listens, or no one believes them, because it completely flies in the face of what you’re supposed to believe about hookers.
Sadly, even when the other types are addressed in the media, the stories are often colored to force them into the mold cast as the streetwalker. So, the entire industry takes on the visage of the poor, drug-addicted woman walking the streets at night offering blowjobs for $5 a pop or a half-and-half for $20. The reality, of course, it much different. I lost faith in the ability of the mainstream media to provide us with honest reporting a long time ago, though. Gone are the days when once respected journalists like Diane Sawyer could be relied upon to provide us with a legitimate look into the world of the “other” prostitutes. In her 20/20 show on prostitution, she went to great lengths to find an actual courtesan escort, and when that woman had the audacity to tell the viewers that she thoroughly enjoyed her work, Sawyer called her a liar. There’s nothing like forcing a story to fit through your own narrow, stereotyped prism. So much for journalism. *sigh*
Plenty of research by real sociologists, plenty of books and treatises by current and former prostitutes, plenty of prostitutes out there blogging and writing about their satisfaction with their work, and yet we still have people who don’t have the mental depth to be able to comprehend that some people do legitimately enjoy the work. You’d think we’d gotten past all of that at this stage in the development of our society, but I guess some people just can’t grasp anything beyond their narrow, two-dimensional existence. That Z axis can be a bitch sometimes.
Anyway, this sort of diverged from where I had intended to take it. The original intent was to point out the results of someone else’s research - research that focused on male sex workers (which, along with transgendered sex workers, are hugely under-represented in all research on sex work), and ended up with a typology that corresponded with those on the female side. There’s always been this big issue over whether or not the male sex workers were different from female sex workers, and it would appear that they aren’t to any large degree. I found that terribly interesting and thought I’d share it with you.
Facials
July 29, 2008
The facial is perhaps one of the most hotly debated concepts in sexuality today. People either believe them to be inherently degrading, or incredibly hot. They either love them, or they hate them. Few people hold positions that deviate significantly from either end of that dichotomy.
The origin of the facial for most people is porn, of course, just as has been the case throughout history with almost every other deviation from the basic penis-in-vagina/ass sex (who did ass-to-mouth before porn?). Before the facial, the guy would pull out and cum on the actress’ pussy, ass, back, tits, stomach, feet. At some point, a director decided that it’d be a good idea to have the guy cum on the woman’s face. Or maybe it was one of those accidental things, and it just looked so hot that other producers elected to replicate it. Nowadays, of course, it is next to impossible to find a porn sequence involving a cock that doesn’t end with a facial.
So, like good users of any quasi-educational medium, many people began to get curious about facials and thought it might be cool to give it a shot, so to speak. Girls wanted to know what it felt like, and guys wanted to see what it felt/looked like. Though I am positive the vast majority of the first times were done at the behest of the guys, I do know some women who were the instigators. And, just like with any other sex act, some enjoyed it, others…not so much.
But are they degrading? Are they disrespectful? Is the facial inherently an act of domination? Does the opinion of the one on the receiving end matter? (That last question is purely rhetorical because, as we know, it is the only one other than the opposite partner that matters).
A few years ago, the overwhelming majority of people would have argued that the facial was one of the most intensely degrading acts possible – it represents a guy depositing his “waste” on her face, or “marking” her face, the most personal feature a person has. Today, though, with the facial’s ubiquity in porn and the resulting mainstreaming of both the term and the act, you often find that many people will now just as vehemently argue that it isn’t inherently degrading.
Quite honestly, I had no real opinion on the subject until recently, when I experienced my first facial. I’d been with Nikki for a couple of years, and although we had an open relationship, we’d not been playing with guys. So I had not been in a position to even ask for a facial to see what it was like. Like many others, though, I’d seen it in porn many times and wondered what it’d be like to get one (and, let’s be honest here, even those of you who think it is gross still wonder what it would be like).
As happenstance would have it, the subject came up during a lunch that Nikki and I shared with four other women we know one afternoon. After listening to the conversation among the group of women we hung out with, and how they enjoyed them (to a person), my latent curiosity piqued to the point where I was moved to find a random guy to give me one. And then guys started offering to pay me to let them do it. So I let them. And I enjoyed it. And profited from it! Heh. And that’s how I ended up here, of course. But you know that already.
Now, from my own personal perspective, I find receiving a facial to be an intensely erotic experience. Not just from having cum splattered all over me, but from the totality of what takes place in those few moments leading up to it. If you’ve been on the receiving end of one, you know what it is like to be just inches away from that cock, with its huge presence looming before you, watching your guy jerk himself off (which I find highly erotic in and of itself), and knowing that he is getting himself off looking at you, your face, begging him, knowing that you’re allowing him to ejaculate onto that which is most personally your space. If that does it for him, then I’ve fulfilled my half of the sexual fantasy as I see it. And quite frankly I enjoy being the little slut who’ll allow a guy to cum on my face. It gets me wet, and I derive pleasure from it. I can’t pinpoint what it is about it that causes me to be that way…well, wait, maybe I can. Maybe I just find it a “dirty” act, and I get off on being a dirty girl.
And though I know it sounds weird, I *love* the feeling of cum hitting my face – the warm sensation, followed immediately by a quick cooling off of the semen. Sure, there’s a mess, but very little in any serious sexual encounter isn’t messy. And in my opinion, if you base your approved list of sexual activities on what does or does not cause a mess, I’d suggest you have an extremely limited sexual repertoire. Even penis-in-vagina sex produces a bit of a mess, especially if you’re not using a condom. Using the fact that it is “messy” as an excuse is purely a cop out, in my opinion.
What does a guy get out of it, when he could just as easily cum in your mouth, perhaps, and end up with you swallowing it? Isn’t that one of those “ultimate fantasies” that guys have always asked for, and why would he do something other than that? I do know there are people (of all genders) who believe that cumming on someone’s face is a waste of perfectly good semen. If not spent into a vagina, it should be going down someone’s throat. Once again, I find myself at a loss to identify any logic behind that mindset, but to each his own.
I think one thing that makes the facial so appealing to many guys is a combination of seeing my face, which is the embodiment of me in his mind, and seeing that “final result,” the cum, splattered all over that. When you add that to the “slut” aura that the facial has (only porn sluts do this, right?), the arousal factor is quite high. If I actually enjoy it, and convey that to him, then the arousal factor is increased that much more.
Now, clearly, there are some elements of dominance in the act. But dominance, in and of itself, is neither bad nor degrading. There’s nothing wrong with a dominant/submissive dichotomy during sex. In fact, generally speaking, the preferred end result in a sexual encounter is often the direct result of a dominant/submissive interplay (first in one direction, then in the other, typically).
A writer named Xorn Smith posted a polemic on Boinkology comparing facials and butt sex.
On the other hand, facials require…jerking off and a target. Even the physicality of the two actions speaks volumes: with facials the partners disjoin and physically separate for the climax while with anal you’re about as intimately conjoined as you can get.
Such a statement reflects a truly one-dimensional understanding of the nature of sex. Intimacy assumes many shapes, not just one defined by physical proximity. As I pointed out on Sex Hobbyist’s blog:
The problem I have with that statement is that it presumes a physical connection is required in order for the act to be “intimate” (which, presumably, the author substitutes for “valid”), when nothing could be further from the truth. The intimate spirituality between the partners is just as much a (valid) measure of intimacy as any physical connectivity, perhaps more so. So, I’d make the argument that a facial can be just as “intimate” as anal sex.
In my opinion, cumming on someone’s face is perhaps one of the most intimate things you can do. As I said before, the face is an intensely personal space. Cumming in someone’s mouth, pussy, ass, etc., moves the cum away from the face, and therefore there’s less of a direct emotional attachment to the end product of the sex. If he cums in her mouth, it is either spit out or swallowed (unless she’s one who likes to play with it for his/her entertainment, or perhaps snowball him), and therefore any attachment is fleeting, if even acknowledged. When you have cum on your face, it’s right there. It takes a huge amount of trust and confidence to allow a guy to ejaculate on your face as I see it.
So it is intimate, arousing, erotic, raunchy, slutty, AND messy. What more could you ask for in a sex act?
Is the facial degrading? Despite what I know many of the radfems would tell us, it can’t possibly be negatively degrading if both people involved are participating willingly. I say “negatively” because some people enjoy (positive) degradation/humiliation play and therefore get off on being “degraded” as a part of the sex play, and facials can play into that if you allow it to. You can decide it is degrading for you, absolutely. And if you feel that way, then obviously you shouldn’t do it (or allow it to be done to you). Common sense, no?
But you don’t have permission to decide whether it is or isn’t anything for me or anyone else, let alone degrading. I would certainly argue that, at its worst, it is no more degrading than him cumming in my mouth and expecting me to swallow it (though I know many feminists would argue that that, too, is inherently degrading). If you construct an argument that when he cums in my pussy it isn’t degrading because we’ve both willingly participated in it (or is it because that is “normal” sex?), then you cannot rationally construct the opposite argument for any other sex act in which we’re both willing and consensual participants. Attempting to do so defies common sense (though that hardly deters plenty of people from trying).
To this day, I still can’t get my mind around the concept that someone believes that they can define something I willingly participate in as degrading to me. 
I’ve had clients ask if they could give me a facial, and I’ve always said yes (assuming they’ve been good clients to that point). I know that a great many guys see this stuff in porn, and I likewise know that their partners either won’t allow themselves to be facialized, or the client is just too scared to ask her for it. Either way, part of my role as their professional slut is to help fulfill some of their fantasies, and if I can do that by allowing them to cum on my face, then that’s what I’ll do. The fact that I enjoy the act just adds icing to the cupcake.
Alexa’s Update # 6
July 28, 2008
Random thoughts and updates for the past week.
First, one thing I *really* miss about having Nikki with me is our sharing of the housecleaning responsibilities. We had this arrangement where she did about half the work, and I did about half. I cleaned the kitchen, dusted and did the glass, and washed the clothes. She’d do the bathrooms, vacuum and take care of the wood floors, and we’d fold up all of our clothes together (I’d do all the fold ups and hangups and she’d do all the towels, sheets, etc.).
Well, this past weekend I cleaned my apartment up for the first time since I got here - the first major clean up, anyway. And I had to do it all myself, including cleaning my shower and toilet! I don’t like that part. 
Of course, Nikki’s having to clean a whole house by herself, so I guess I shouldn’t whine. 
I will be going home to see Nikki on the weekend of my birthday, which is August 17. I am *so* looking forward to that. That’s a week or so before school starts, so I don’t have to worry about it interfering with that.
Wednesday is the 30th anniversary of the Cheesecake Factory. They’re offering slices of cheesecake for $1.50 each, the price they were when they first opened (nowadays they’re between $5 and $9 a slice, depending on what you get). Fortunately, there’s one just a few blocks from me here, so I plan to avail myself of their special. Perhaps several of them.
Kelsey has agreed to go out with me to go eat, my treat. 
In my story about Rick, I told you of his request that I be available several mornings each month, and explained that I needed some time to think about it. Well, at this point, I see no reason why I shouldn’t avail myself of the money. I mean, that kind of money for a few minutes worth of work for someone who truly enjoys it would be totally worthwhile. I’ll explain to him that I reserve the right to opt out if I have a long night with another client. I’m sure he’ll accept that condition. More on this after he gets back in town and I’ve had a chance to talk with him about it.
I’m happy to report that Nina is back home and recovering from her appendectomy. She left me a one line message last week stating that her husband was taking her to the emergency room at 5AM, without further explanation (And yes, I’ve spanked her hot little ass for not telling me any more than that! Though, to be honest, I think spanking her is more positive reinforcement than anything else). Her husband was kind enough to let me know what had happened two days later! Anyway, Nina, I’m glad you’re home and recuperating. I’ve missed my quasi-daily doses of Anais Nin channeling. <3
The wildfires in California have largely left the Bay Area alone, but there’s one burning near Yosemite National Park right now that has burnt up several homes and has cut off power to the park. I went to Yosemite for the first time ever when we came here back in January. Gorgeous country. I hope everyone out there stays safe. I know another firefighter was killed here yesterday I believe. He was from Washington state and was down here to help California fight the fires.
I just got done reading a book called Rent Boys, written by a French sociologist. It’s an academic piece about male sex workers, and I bought it because I’d not really been exposed to any serious research on the guys before. It was very interesting, for a variety of reasons, and was an easy read. I am in the process of writing some about it. There’s also a post on facials coming in the next day or two.
Anyway, I think that is it for the randomness for this week. I have about a dozen new posts I am working on, all of them in different stages of development. I have to be in the right frame of mind to write most of this stuff, though, so you’ll just have to be patient with me until I get them done. 
Breakfast Service
July 27, 2008
*phone rings*
*phone rings*
*phone rings*
“Hello,” I intone sleepily, looking over at my clock to see that it is about a quarter to six in the morning. Who in the fuck is calling me this early on a Friday morning?
It was my business phone, and the ring told me it was someone I had seen. I have two ring tones, one that I assign to clients I’ve seen, and the other for anyone else. This way I’ll know when one of my clients calls me, or if it is some random call. I get those from time to time - apparently someone had this number before I got it.
“Alexa?”
“Yeah. Who is this?”
“Hey, this is Rick. Sorry for calling so early, but I thought I’d see if you’re up for making a quick thousand dollars.”
I sit up in my bed, looking over at the clock to confirm the time I thought I saw a few seconds ago. “Wait, what? You mean right now?”
“Yes. Is it too early?”
“Well, you are the first person to ask for one this early, but if you’re willing to pay for the time, then I can get ready and meet you somewhere.”
“You don’t need to get ready. Just throw something on and meet me at my office in about a half hour, say around 6:30. Can you get there?”
“Where is ‘there’?” He tells me where his office is, on the 8th floor of a huge building in the downtown financial district. That is not too far from where I live, though he doesn’t know that. “I can probably get there by 6:30, yeah. Let me put something on and I’ll meet you.”
“Okay. Don’t worry about showering or dressing up or anything. I want you just like you are, and you’ll use a dedicated elevator to get to my office, so no one’s going to see you come into the building.”
Rick is the owner of his own brokerage firm, occupying the entire 8th floor of one of the larger buildings in downtown San Francisco as it turns out. I’d seen him a few nights ago. He’d complimented me on my blow job technique at the conclusion of our time together. Apparently, he really was impressed.
I hopped out of bed and went into the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face. I threw on some sweatpants and a sweatshirt, sans underwear, picked up my bag and headed to my car. The drive took about 10 minutes. When I arrived at the building I pulled into the parking garage, took the ticket and drove down to the 3rd parking level. I got out and found the elevator, entered the code and headed up. When I walked out into Rick’s office, all I could say was, “Wow! Hey, there. Fabulous office.”
“Thank you. And thank you for coming over. I’ve been fantasizing about this for a week now.”
“Have you now?”
As he walks toward me with an envelope, which I assume contains my fee, I can’t help but notice that it is a corner office, with an incredible view of the city. Or, rather, many of the other buildings around him, since this is only the 8th floor. Regardless, the office is decked out nicely, with mahogany furniture and what appears to be some seriously expensive accent pieces. “Shall we get down to business?”
“Of course.” I walk over to him, unbuckle his belt, and slide his pants and underwear down, then sink to my knees and take his cock into my mouth. He is already partially erect, and when my lips wrap themselves around it, it only takes a few seconds before he’s hard as a rock. I proceed to give him one of my “hands-free” blow jobs. The one cool thing about a hand’s free is that it prolongs the amount of time it takes for him to cum. This results in a much stronger orgasm because it takes it much longer to build up, generally speaking (if you take it to fruition). I could use my hands with my mouth and get him off in rather short order, but it is fun to tease someone and force them to wait for it. And besides, as he said, he likes the way I suck cock.
“God, you are so good at that.”
I lightly bit his cock to acknowledge the compliment, and continued working him into the back of my throat. I eventually got him all the way in, and allowed him to bottom out on my face. Once he realized he was getting into my throat, he began to fuck my mouth. I just stopped my movements and let him thrust at his own pace for a few seconds. I stared up into his eyes and tried to give him that “Oh, god, yes” look to help his arousal factor. I could tell he was enjoying the visual, watching his cock penetrate my face.
“I’ve always wanted to fuck someone bent over my desk. Would you like to try it?” He pulled out of my mouth, and I licked the excess saliva and mucous off his cock. I reached for my bag and pulled out a condom and handed him the package. He opened it up and rolled it onto his cock. While he was doing that, I took my clothes off and walked over to his desk.
“If I recall, from what I’ve seen in the movies, I’m supposed to just wipe all of this shit onto the floor, right?” He laughed a tenuous, nervous laugh that said “Please don’t do that,” so I grinned and gingerly moved some of the stuff on his desk. Then I sat down on the edge of it and began masturbating as he watched. After a few seconds, he walked over and placed his cock at the entrance to my cunt, pushed in and began fucking me. I leaned back on my elbows and raised my legs up. He grabbed my ankles and held them as he thrust deeply into me with increasing force.
After a minute or so, he slowed down. “Turn around.”
I hopped down off the desk, and turned with my back to him and bent over the desk, reaching out to grab the edges of it. He came up behind me, found my entrance, and once again pushed his cock into me. I looked back over my shoulder and could tell he was once again admiring his cock penetrating me. After a few more seconds, he grabbed my hips and began vigorously fucking me again. I could tell his orgasm was approaching, as his grunts became more intense. With just a few more thrusts he came. With each contraction, his hips pushed me into the edge of his desk (and as a result of which I now have some light bruising on my hip bones to show for my work).
When he’d calmed down, he pulled out and walked into what turned out to be a bathroom in an adjoining room. He looked rather silly, actually, walking around with nothing but a shirt and tie on and his cock hanging between his legs. He was gone for a few seconds, and then re-appeared at the door. “Would you like to use the bathroom?”
“Yes, please.” I walked in and closed the door behind me, cleaned up, and then headed back out. He watched me walk back toward my pile of clothes in the middle of the floor.
“You are a stunning woman. Wow. Even at six in the morning.”
I can only offer a weak “Thanks” in return.
“Would you like to make this a recurring thing?”
“You mean, me coming over to your office? Like, every day?”
“Something like that, yeah. I mean, I’m not in town about half the month, but on those mornings when I do come into the office, god it’d be nice to start those days like this.”
I was stunned by the request, and really wasn’t sure what to say. At a thousand dollars a day, for any number of days, it is an offer that would be hard to refuse. “Wow. I’m not sure how to answer that, How many days are we talking, exactly?”
“It would vary from month to month. Sometimes I am here half the days, sometimes I am here perhaps only five or six days in a given month.”
“And you don’t mind chucking out a thousand dollars a day for it?”
“Not for someone as good as you are.”
“Can I think about it and get back to you?”
“Absolutely. I won’t be here next week at all, so take your time. I sure hope you will agree to it, though. I love having your lips wrapped around my cock, and you’re just a fun person to be around to top it all off. I’ve not encountered anyone like you before, professional or otherwise to be honest.”
“Aww, what a sweet thing to say. Thank you.”
I finished getting dressed and collected my bag. Almost as if on cue a phone in an outer office rang. It startled me and I jumped a bit. He just laughed and said not to worry about it; it was probably someone from the east coast who didn’t know that we sleep late on this side of the country. I had to laugh.
“I’ll give it some thought and let you know next week, okay?”
I pushed the button and the elevator opened up. As I left, he was putting his pants back on and recombobulating himself. When I got down to my car, I checked the envelope - the money was all there, plus $10 to cover the cost of parking. I drove home, hopped in the shower and got back in bed. My mind was racing too much to go to sleep, though, so I got back up.
The only real down sides to committing to being available like what he’s asking are that A) I am not a morning person, and B) if an appointment with a client goes well into the morning, which they occasionally do, I have to come home, shower, and then turn around and go right back out when I know I’ll be tired. Of course, it does only take about an hour and a half to drive over, park, go take care of business and get back home.
A thousand dollars a day for what amounts to about 45 minutes worth of work is hard to top, though.
Not only that, but his office is a corner office, with ceiling to floor windows. I’ve always wanted to be pressed naked against a pane glass window and be railed from behind.
Hmm. Decisions, decisions.
Rabbit vs. Cat
July 26, 2008
This is funny as shit. If you have a rabbit (I have two, though they are in Florida with Nikki), you know they’ll hump anything. This little kitten wants to play, and irritates Mr. Rabbit, so Mr. Rabbit turns the tables on the little kitty. Be sure and listen to the cat’s reaction.
I’m Not Going to Tell Them
July 26, 2008
One of the things I have wrestled with as I’ve started this new line of work, as I explained a few days ago, is whether or not to tell my parents what I am doing to make a living. Should I, or shouldn’t I? It is literally possible to construct a variety of valid arguments for a decision in either direction.
I’ve had conversations with several women who work in this industry, and for the vast majority of them, the decision was easy - don’t tell them; my life is my life, not theirs. They don’t need to know. That’s true, obviously, but ignores the basic relationship that many people have with the people who raised them, one that typically includes some measure of honesty. You feel dishonest by not telling them, and to some, that damages or degrades the relationship you have with them.
There are some who do advocate being honest with them. Amanda Brooks, who has written two books on escort work, and whom I admire deeply, is one of those people. In an e-mail conversation we were having on this subject, upon learning that I had planned to wait until I decided if this was something I could do, agreed, and said…
No need to cause them worry right now. Wait and see how it all fits into your life… I think they’ll give you more acceptance than you expect. And over time, as they see you succeed in your own life, they’ll realize sex work is not all the stereotypes they’ve read, especially when it comes to their own daughter. [emphasis mine]
She has an absolutely valid and very cogent point, one that fits in with my position about activism with respect to sex work, in fact. I want to be an example of someone who’s not ashamed of the fact that she works in the sex industry and advocates for openness and acceptance. You can’t do that by hiding the fact that you work in the industry. *sigh*
My original intent was to wait until I got into it to see if this was something I would enjoy and would continue doing. And, thus far, I have enjoyed it immensely, though I am fully cognizant of the fact that there will be bad days/clients at some point in the future. I’m not naive enough to believe it’ll always be positive; nothing in life is.
But, there’s more to it than that, of course.
I’d like to say that I’ve always had a very open, forthright relationship with my parents, but that would be somewhat of an exaggeration. We have been very open with a great many subjects, including sexuality. My parents raised us to appreciate our own bodies, and to understand what sex was, how it fits into how you view your own self, and their views on how they thought sex ought to fit into relationships. And they relied on us to to formulate our own opinions and make our own decisions. I don’t recall ever truly having disappointed my parents.
You can imagine how they might feel if they found out I’d decided to become a prostitute, though. And, to be honest, I never told them I was dancing, either. I think they’d have far less of a problem with me taking my clothes off and gyrating on people than they would with me actually fucking them. Maybe I should tell them now that I was a dancer for three years, even when I was living at home.
Sarah, on her blog, counsels an apparent acquaintance against telling her parents that she’s an escort. In a comment I made there, I had to agree with her. And until I’d read her post, I don’t know that I had come to a final decision in my own mind about whether or not to tell my parents. But Sarah’s lamentation about how one’s parents would react sealed my decision almost instantaneously. She’s right when she states that:
Your parents are not ready for this. They will NEVER be ready for this. It is not something any parent wants their child to come home and tell them. It will destroy everything they have tried to teach you, even if you think they are not so good as parents…
With perhaps a couple of exceptions that I’ve seen on television or in documentaries, no parent wants their child, their daughter, to become a prostitute. My parents are not going to be any different, of that I am 100% confident.
The reality is that this saddens me. Not so much because I think everyone should necessarily welcome the decision to become a hooker, but because, by not telling your parents, you lose one critical support mechanism that would be available to you if something happens. It’s sad that you can’t tell your parents what you do because of that embarrassment, that stigma.
Most parents, of course, would support you if something happened and they found out the hard way (Ashley Dupre’s family was an excellent example of this). But they’re going to have to do that in a parallel with coming to grips with the fact that you are actually a prostitute, plus the fact that you didn’t trust them enough to tell them on the front end.
I know my parents would likely be devastated, though perhaps not to the degree that others might. There’s some history in the family that would cushion (for lack of a better word) the impact of such a discovery (a relative who works in the porn industry). But as I stated here, I leaned toward not telling them to protect them, not me. I don’t care if a friend or some anonymous person knows that I fuck people for a living. It doesn’t bother me. I do try to keep myself largely anonymous, though, to protect myself and my clients from being recognized on the street. I think everyone understands the nature of that dichotomy.
But if my parents know, they’ll have to expend extra effort to avoid bringing up me and my work, or will be forced to lie about what I do when someone asks them what I do when the subject of their children come up. Right now, they just think I am a student, and that’s what they tell everyone. And of course, that is accurate, just not fully so.
So, there you have it. I feel most comfortable not telling them at this point, and that is the decision I have made.
I will tell my sister, though. She lives in Los Angeles, just a few hours down the road, and she’s the closest one to me who could help me if something did happen. And I know she won’t breathe a word of it to mom and dad.
I know many of you who read this are going to support my decision, and I appreciate that. I am curious, though. What would you personally do if your daughter came to you and told you she was planning on becoming a prostitute? It’s one thing for you to support me, but another thing entirely when it involves your daughter, no? Would you prefer that she upfront with you, or would you rather not know? Would you tell your friends or coworkers that your child worked as a prostitute?
Retirement Age?
July 25, 2008
I had a reader ask an interesting question via e-mail a few days ago:
Out of technical curiosity, what do you think is the retirement age of a successful “courtesan” as you like to say? It seems like one would lose their earning potential fairly quickly?
The question itself suggests that escorts have a shelf life, perhaps built on her presumed youthful looks (the reference to her “earning potential“), whether the author intended that or not. The truth of the matter is the diametric opposite, however. Earning potential actually increases the longer you stay in the business. In fact, generally speaking, women in their 30s make more money as escorts than any other age group on average, believe it or not.
Retirement or leaving the field is almost always a factor of when the escort gets tired of the work, or finds herself in a position where she can’t or doesn’t want to do it any more (such as getting married, though that is not necessarily the case). Some women, especially the younger ones, do the work to make money for college or for basic living expenses, and women of all ages will occasionally do the work to make extra spending money. These women generally exit the business when school is finished, or when they’ve achieved whatever financial goal they’ve set for themselves. But there is a significant group of women who do the work because they enjoy interacting with people and/or know they have the talent to do the job well, and enjoy being able to capitalize on that. Those who stay in the business for the long term and keep themselves in shape often make incredible sums of money and live a life of relative luxury. As long as they can do that, there’s no reason to retire in their eyes.
There are two basic strata in the escort world. I refer to them as the “younger set” and the “high end.”
The younger clients are commonly in the 20-30 age range, college educated to one degree or another, and are generally just looking for a quick fuck. They’re not seeking the longer companionate kind of service that the high end set is. And, conveniently, the younger women in the business are typically offering just a quick fuck. They’re not so much looking to provide a “companion” type experience as they are a quick sexual encounter as a means of making a few dollars. And though some claim to provide a true “GFE” (girlfriend experience), it is typically offered in a one-off kind of way, such that she’ll be a girlfriend for the duration of the single appointment only, as opposed to offering the recurring companion-type service.
Conversely, the majority of clients in the “high-end” are in their 40s and 50s, usually very well educated, and are almost invariably from the higher income brackets. And though these guys might occasionally go for the younger woman, they typically seek the services of the escort in her 30s or early 40s. These women are older, more mature, worldlier, and are much more sexually experienced than those of the younger set. A significant number have college degrees (including, quite often, graduate degrees). Yet they still represent a “younger” woman in the mind of the 40 or 50 year old guy. Since these clients are, in many cases, looking for a “deeper” experience or recurring relationship, they seek out someone who has a similar level of life experience and is willing to provide that level of service. It’s sort of a best of both worlds for each of them, if you will.
This mutual compatibility factor between client and provider has a lot to do with how to the two strata align themselves, obviously.
If you do a search for escorts on Google, you’ll find those with the higher rates are typically women in their 30s and 40s. They will almost invariably have very elegantly designed web sites, professional photographs, and package rates that run from around $1K an hour to well into the thousands for an evening of “luxury companionship.” Many will offer package combinations involving international travel, meals at 4-star restaurants, or expensive excursions to exotic locales. This reflects the fact that the majority of these women actually derive their livelihood from their work as escorts, and therefore put much more effort into polishing themselves and presenting a professional image. It is their life, and they concentrate their entire effort on providing that high level of service.
The younger women in the business usually have so many other things going on (college, social life, other jobs, etc.), that they don’t have the time, patience or desire to engage in the longer, drawn out experiences that many high-end clients are seeking. They also tend to lack the experience and social graces required to pull off the “high end” level of service, and their rates will generally run in the $100 - $300 an hour range.
The older women usually don’t have these constraints and typically don’t have someone or something they’re tied to that would prevent them from engaging in this line of work. And they’ve developed that sense of etiquette and style that permits them to serve as a dinner companion at a thousand dollar-a-plate function, for example – the kind of service these types of clients might be looking for. When you combine all of that with the much greater (presumed) commonality in life experiences between the 30-year old courtesan and her client, it becomes that much easier to understand why the high-end client would seek out these kinds of women.
I am a relative oddity, actually (not that that’s anything new! lol); younger and offering the recurring companion-type experience. It’s sort of a mid-range kind of thing, for all intents and purposes. My appointment and rate structure is set up to discourage the quick fuck session (though I will do that if you want to pay my fee to do it), but I am not set up to do the “high end” exotic sort of thing, either (though I can come close to it). And as I think about what I am writing here, it occurs to me that the majority of my clients also fit into this mold – they’re middle-aged (30s and early 40s), and are past the time when they’d be looking for the quick lay, but aren’t really interested in the longer-term relationship with that aura of permanence about it.
The way I position myself allows me to operate amongst a wider range of client types, actually. I can function well with the older clients seeking a relationship with some semblance of recurrence to it, as well as with the younger types who are transitioning from seeking the quick fuck to giving some thought about using the services of a provider who adds a little extra oomph to the experience – those ready to take the “next step” if you will. And while my rates are a bit higher than the typical escort in my age range, I have a very broad base of sexual knowledge and experience, the necessary social graces, and an understanding of the psychology behind how to apply myself to provide a higher level of service than most young escorts.
When should an escort retire? As I said at the outset that is wholly a function of how she feels about her work and whether or not she’s attracting the kind of clients she wants to serve. I know women who retired and moved on, only to return because they missed either the money or the personal interaction they enjoyed as a part of the business (or both). One woman worked as an escort on her own, formed her own agency, and then sold it off to return to independent work because she missed the interaction with her clients and the personal freedom the work provided her. And, then, I know women who worked with one client and decided it wasn’t for them.
As for my retirement, as I stated in one of my first posts on this blog, I plan to do this work for the two years I am in graduate school in San Francisco, and then I’ll exit gracefully. At least, that’s the plan. Who knows what the future holds? But, my current life goals and objectives don’t include being a courtesan for the long term. My retirement will come from wanting to move to the next chapter of my life, whenever that occurs. 
The Lazy Geisha is a bit under the Weather.
July 24, 2008
Many of you know I am good friends with Nina, the Lazy Geisha.
A couple of nights ago, she sent me a one line e-mail telling me her husband, Jeff, was taking her to the emergency room. I hadn’t heard from her since, and I was *really* starting to get worried.
This afternoon I got an e-mail from Jeff telling me that she’d suffered a bout with appendicitis and had to have her appendix removed. 
Anyway, keep her in your thoughts, and let’s all wish her a speedy recovery.
EDIT (Sunday, 7/27/08): I just spoke with Nina, and she’s at home now, resting. The meds are making her drowsy, but she did survive and will be posting about it sometime in the next few days.
Alexa’s Update # 5
July 21, 2008
Whew, this has been a long week.
I’ve had four clients this week, and they’ve had quite a wide range of personalities and approaches to sex.
The one who stood out, though, was my Friday night client. Friday night was literally a marathon of sex - he was one of those high energy types that always has to be moving. You know what I mean? This guy had some stamina!
Of the four hours he had with me, we easily spent three and a half of them fucking. I think we tried every conceivable position possible for oral, vaginal and anal penetration, including the piledriver. He asked me if I’d ever heard of it, and I told him I had. He was surprised that I knew what it was (most people don’t) and when he discovered that I was familiar with it, he asked me if we could try it. I was like, “Sure.” I’d never done anything close to that before, though I’d seen them do it in pornos. I was interested in it just to see what it was like.
So I laid down on the bed, and he held my hands as I slid down the side of it resting my neck and the top of my back on the floor. He stood above me, pushed his cock down and into my cunt and began pounding away. Most guys’ cocks won’t bend down like that, but by the time we’d gotten to this point, nothing this guy did surprised me any more. I’m not lying when I tell you it was an interesting visual to see yourself having sex in that position, with your legs all splayed out over your head flopping about in rhythm with the penetrations. Seriously, I spent more than couple of seconds wondering how fucking ridiculous I looked in this position.
He asked me what it felt like, and I told him it felt like being fucked while in a head rush. The blood rushing to my head made me feel all light headed and everything, and quite honestly, after a few minutes, I felt like I lost some of the feeling in my cunt, almost like it was becoming numb. It was an interesting experience, though. After a few minutes of that, he stuck his cock in my ass and finished off.
We laid back and rested for a few minutes, and then went at it again. One of his favorite things to do is watch someone suck his cock (with “a little hint of teeth,” no less), so I was happy to indulge him for a good while with that. He was completely shaved, too, which made sucking his nuts a lot of fun (and rimming him, as well). I then laid my head over the edge of the bed and let him face fuck me for a bit. I was pretty messy after that so we went and took a shower together, and had sex in the shower. Fortunately, I had my silicone lube with me - condoms and water-based lube don’t mix well in the shower, but that silicone has some staying power in that environment. When we got done with the shower, we fucked some more - he bent me over the bathroom counter and I had another interesting visual of watching myself get fucked from behind. I’ve done that before with Nikki, but this was just…different. I reached down and masturbated myself and had a pretty intense orgasm.
When we were done for the evening (morning, actually), he told me that I was the first woman he’d had that was able to go that long without resting. I didn’t ask him to clarify that further, and took it as a compliment, more or less. I wasn’t sore at all the next day, which kind of surprised me, actually. And I need to restock! I think I used more condoms on this one client than I have with all the others combined thus far. Can you imagine housekeeping coming in the next morning and discovering all of those condoms in the trash can? She’d think an orgy had taken place in there!
One of my other clients was in need of, shall we say, some remedial training on how to eat pussy. Though I never expect it, I am always grateful when one of my clients wants to go down on me. Even more so when they know what they’re doing! And I don’t mind providing training if someone needs it or requests it.
Anyway, his technique left a bit to be desired, so I spent some time coaching him on how to use his tongue, lips and fingers for better results than what he was getting. He picked up on it pretty quickly and was able to get me off, so hopefully when he gets home to his girlfriend, she’ll be the beneficiary of some of my instructional technique.
The other two clients were pretty average. They got what they paid for and seemed satisfied with the services provided.
Let’s see, what else…
I went and picked out a “naughty maid” outfit to use with one of my clients. I took a picture of it and sent it to him. He approved of it, so we’ve set up an appointment for later this week. I look forward to writing about that when it is over.
Mike, my first SF client has become my first “regular” client. He’s booked me for another eight hour appointment. He feels comfortable enough with me that he wants to take me to the zoo and then “go back to the hotel for some ravenous sex.” He told me that I am the first escort he’s felt would actually appreciate going to a place like this, and he’s wanted to go for some time, so he thought he’d ask me. I accepted, of course - I love zoos. It did occur to me, however, that this is the zoo where the tiger got out and attacked those two morons who’d been taunting it.
He also says he intentionally held back on the aggression in his sex on our last meeting, and for me to expect it to ramp up a bit. It appears as if he were feeling me out the last time. Perfectly understandable. Quite honestly, I am looking forward to this. I mean, when you book an appointment with me, I’ll do whatever you want me to do, including spending the entire time fucking if that’s what you want (see above, lol). But those appointments where I get to go out and actually enjoy doing something or spending time with someone are going to be my favorite ones, I can tell now.
As it stands right now, with the appointment requests I’ve gotten in over the weekend, I will have had 13 appointments in the month of July, resulting in $19K in income. That’s not too shabby for my first month, I don’t think.
The MySpace account I’d created was deleted. I had over 1,000 friends, and had gone out of my way to make sure there were no inappropriate pictures on it, no one under 18 could contact me, etc. It couldn’t have been the pics - all of the porn stars and “models” (and even the “regular” girls, for that matter) have *far* more suggestive photos than anything I’d posted. I only had three online, in fact. Of course, they don’t tell you why they delete your profile, and they don’t give you any warning, so there’s nothing you can do. I’d put a lot of work into making it look professional and had gotten a lot of compliments on it, so it really pisses me off. The assholes that run MS are idiots anyway. They bought PhotoBucket and it has turned to shit as well (we don’t call it “PhotoFuckit” for nothing). Anyway, literally hours worth of work pissed down the toilet. 
I’ve been doing a good bit of working out on the treadmills and bikes in our exercise room here. I have to do something to stay active because if I don’t, I’ll sit around and eat continuously and blimp up. Aside from the impact on my ability to attract clients, it would be personally disappointing as well.
I went to a party here yesterday afternoon. One of the residents on the floor above me was holding a “floor party” and even though I wasn’t on his floor, he invited me anyway (while I was doing laundry). So I went and met some of the other people who live in the building. There are some really neat people here. And, well, there are some that aren’t so neat.
I lost count of the number of times someone asked me what I did. Kelsey was there and I think she got a huge kick out of watching me tell people I was just a student and keep a straight face. A few asked me what I was studying and when they found out I was working on a Masters in Sexuality, we had some very interesting conversations.
I will be going home to visit Nikki sometime in the next month. I haven’t decided specifically when yet - I am kind of waiting to see how the bookings go, but I am looking forward to going back “home” to see the house, my rabbits, and of course, my sweety. 
I think that’s it for the time being. I hope everyone has a safe, happy and productive week.
Financial Planning
July 18, 2008
I had my first appointment with my new financial counselor this morning. She’s “whore friendly” to put in terms used by a friend of mine. By that I mean that I can be honest with her about what I do and how I earn my money. I had one in Florida, but since these folks have to be licensed to practice in each state, I had to find one to use here in California. I found this one through another woman who used to work here in San Francisco.
I have always been one to save and invest the money I make. While I was dancing, I’d see other dancers just blow every bit of money they made each night on all kinds of frivolous shit - clothing, games, electronics, cars, drugs, you name it. You could literally gauge the maturity level of the women by what they did with their money. And I know people who “live for today” and just don’t bother to put anything away for a rainy day, or some unexpected expense. I could just never do that - I always want to have access to money if I need it. That savings ethic was instilled in me by my parents, I suppose. Thanks mom and dad! Maybe someday I’ll tell you how I earn it.
So I carried my love of saving money into my dancing. I used what I made to pay for the usual living expenses, as well as school expenses (UM’s tuition was about $32K a year, not including books!). With the balance, I invested some, saved some, and of course paid my taxes and whatnot. When I left Florida, I had more in my savings account than many people earn in an entire year. That’s what I’ve been living on up to this point.
Now that I am working in a field where I’ll be earning substantially more than I was before, I want to make sure I make wise financial decisions, not only for the present, but for the future as well. And though I think I am intelligent enough to understand what I need to be doing, it is a good idea to have someone to bounce those ideas off of, and to validate the financial plans that I make for myself. My goal is to have some money available to live on and to achieve some personal business goals I have once I obtain my graduate degree (more on that at a later date).
The biggest concern for me is paying taxes. Since I am self-employed, I have to pay my income taxes quarterly (state and federal), along with “self-employment” taxes (Medicare and Social Security). So when I get paid, I put aside a specific amount of what I make (40%) to pay that. I have a special bank account I use just for that, in fact, to keep me from dipping into that pot of money unnecessarily. If there’s anything left at the end of the year when my final return and payment is due, then I take it out and put it in my savings account or use it to buy myself a treat (if I’ve been good! lol).
A *lot* of dancers and prostitutes don’t pay their taxes at all. And that is one thing that gets a lot of sex workers in trouble, especially prostitutes. Even if you’re never convicted of prostitution, the federal government will come after you for tax evasion, which itself carries a pretty stiff penalty. The IRS doesn’t care how you earn your money, even if is obtained illegally; you still have to pay taxes on it. Plus, this gives me a “work history” with my tax returns so that I can account for these years as being employed, both for future employment and for collecting Social Security benefits when I am older (assuming, of course, that social security is still around at that point). I list my line of work as “Sex Therapist.”
I am also starting up another 401K to put some money aside for the future. I already have one from my days as a dancer, but because of the way I am earning this money, I am starting another one. Since what I am doing is considered by some to be illegal, I have to worry about the government seizing the “proceeds” from that illegal activity. That includes money, of course. If they can even remotely connect the money in my 401K to my work in an illegal activity, then they can seize it. If I just started adding this money into my existing 401K, they could seize all of the new money plus anything I had in there to begin with. So, I have to keep them separate for the time being. I will put no less than 10% of what I make into this account.
I also want to invest some of my money, and I am examining several options for how I want to go about doing that. There are several ways that have the potential for earning good money for me, and I just need some time to analyze them and figure out what sounds like something I believe in and whatnot.
Charitable giving is another area I have always put some of my money. I firmly believe in helping others in any way I can, especially as it relates to women and reproductive rights. For example, in Florida, from the day I first started working, I have been sending money anonymously to organizations like Planned Parenthood and two women’s shelters in Broward County that help rape victims and victims of domestic abuse. I plan to continue that as well here, but I’ll also be sending money to organizations that support sex workers’ rights and those that help get sex workers wanting out of the business out of it. I have a target of 5% of what I bring in for this. Sadly, if things come up short in any given month, this is where the first cuts come from. But at least I’m trying to be faithful about that.
The balance of what I make is split between personal savings and a checking account I use to pay for living expenses, and all of the other little expenditures that make up daily life. If I have the money in my checking account to pay my tuition and book costs when school starts, I’ll use it. Otherwise, that comes out of the savings account.
So my financial planning budget looks something like:
40% - Taxes
10% - 401K
5% - Investments
5% - Charitable Giving
10% - Savings
30% - Living Expenses
So, as of right now, I am on target to make a minimum of $14K this month given the appointments I’ve had, plus what I have scheduled (and I still have days open, so it may be higher). This will give me about $4,200 to pay for living expenses for next month, and I think I can do that. Many of the expenses I outlined in my original budgeting plan are considerably lower than I had anticipated, so this figure seems to be reasonable at this point. My gas costs have been practically nil because I haven’t gone anywhere except the beach, grocery shopping, and clubbing a couple of nights. I need to get out more.
Anyway, I am a firm believer in managing your money wisely. Like I said earlier, I’ve seen plenty of people just spend, spend, spend and not have anything left to show for their hard work. To me it is even sadder when someone who makes as much money as I do (or have the potential to, at any rate) doesn’t have any money put away for a rainy day, more so than those who live on much tighter budgets. Dancers and most sex workers not on the street make incredible money (relatively speaking) in many cases. And for most of us it just isn’t a viable option to remain in the work as a career, so it is incumbent upon us to save where we can, in my opinion. I suppose perhaps if I didn’t have a goal in mind it’d be easier to waste money. Who knows?
I am still working on Part II of Anni’s adventure in slutdom, and a story about my night out last Sunday. I promise to get those finished and up on the blog as soon as I can. I have appointments for the next three nights, so my weekend promises to be somewhat busy. I hope all of you folks have a happy, safe and productive weekend as well.
