He’s a student at Columbia University, and to pay for that education he’s a male escort.
This male gigolo decided to tell his story in the Columbia Lion. Here’s are some of his stories.
Sometimes, in describing to someone what I do, I find myself compelled to sweeten things a bit. It doesn’t seem to matter whether I care what this person thinks, whether or not I like them, or whether I think they’re judging me on how carefully reasoned my responses are. It’s something more innate to the nature of what I do and more specifically to the prevention of negative reaction from any potentially interested parties. In essence, it’s something I find I just have to do.
I don’t ever mean to present my career as a nonstop glamourama of money and cocks and presents and travel. It isn’t. There are parts of it that are very financially (and otherwise) rewarding, and parts of it that are tedious and awful. But for some reason, whenever I talk about it–the way someone who works at a bank or does data entry might talk about their job – bemoaning a terrible boss or a situation with a coworker–I feel nearly ashamed to address any of the negative parts and simply gloss over them with a laugh and a hair toss.
“Oh no! I can always get it up! That’s never a problem!”
“No! But I can totally see why you’d think a drunk man throwing up on my shoe in his hotel lobby might ‘kill the mood!’”
“Haha! No! It’s no trouble at all! I love keeping my gentials precision groomed at all times ‘just in case!’”
I haven’t worked out exactly why this is, but my suspicion is that I’m ever in fear of the “Well – maybe you shouldn’t be a PROSTITUTE then, hmm?” reaction. Needless to say, I’ve gotten that before.
One of my favorite parts about the work I do is getting to watch people who are already amazing become even better in their lives and careers. I remember a client I had a few years ago who has gone on to do some really great stuff in the public sector. And it’s fun for me to get to say “I knew him back when!”
It was an unusual bit of serendipity that brought us together back then. I was still with the agency (was just starting out, in fact) and the director asked me if I would be interested in traveling for a client in Chicago. I’d been to Chicago in the past and told him I was comfortable doing it if he would make the arrangements.
It’s a peculiar circumstance to find yourself on an airplane on your way to meet a person with whom you know nothing about, have never spoken to, and may never see again. I was nervous, but I felt like I was hiding it well. All I had been told was that it was someone for whom discretion was of the highest importance. I couldn’t talk about it with my friends or family or other clients. No one. It would only be for one night, and I would fly back to NYC the next day.
Professional Sexin’ is an expression that applies to a great many sorts of jobs. I use it to describe my “sexy time” companionship services, but it is also equally applicable to just about anybody in the ‘sex industry.’ Porn movies alone employ thousands of people just in San Fernando Valley that could consider themselves part of Professional Sexin’. Include strip club employees and all those kids who turn the occasional trick to pay the bills, and we’re into the millions of bodies, just in this country. Worldwide, Professional Sexin’ is a serious collection of businesses and dedicated employees who reap millions of dollars every year using their skills and their bodies to make people feel good (or bad, depending on what your scene is – who am I to judge?).
One of the things I’ve always admired about the men and women who work in the ‘sex industry’ (be it Professional Sexin’, or porn, or stripping, or whatever) is the ability to be Consistently Sexy. They understand that it is their job to be tan and waxed and muscled and just ON! on a regular basis. This is something that I haven’t ever been good at. When I’m ON!, I’m amazing. But the amount of effort it takes for me to get there, regularly, is sometimes more than I can muster. I am NOT Consistently Sexy. This produces an odd dichotomy in my person, because I AM consistently sexual. It’s just part of my chemistry. I’m ALWAYS DTF.