Kinky La Rue

You know why? Because some gentlemen can’t seem to be bothered to take the time to read any info on my site. This time I’ve made the effort to twice mention on the new site that I don’t take short notice bookings. Once in the blurb on the “about me” page (or is it the welcome page), and again just underneath my rates on my “rates” page. I know some gents can’t be bothered to read said blurb, so I thought I’d at least put a short paragraph under the rates page. You can’t miss it, can you? Well, it seems you can.

This week I didn’t have any bookings. Not a one. I can’t tell you the last time that happened. And it wasn’t because the phone didn’t ring. Far from it. The phone’s been busy this week. Apart from the few phone calls making bookings for later on this month (I’ve even taken one for October), the rest of the phone calls were from potential clients wanting to see me, like now.
It kind of turned out okay anyway, as things were so hectic at home what with the start of school and the start of my course (my tutor called to introduce herself and say hello on Thursday), the week just flew by. Plus August turned out well.

But there was the gent who called on Thursday night at 8pm, asking to see me at 9pm. I explained that not only do I not see anybody past 8pm, I don’t take short notice bookings. Gent says okay, I’ll call back tomorrow. I say okay, look forward to hearing from you, assuming he was going to call in the morning.

Gent calls back the next day, at 20 to 6, wanting a booking at 7pm. I explained again, I can’t and don’t take short notice bookings, not least because I don’t live where I work. Okay then.

Or the gent who called me at Wedneday afternoon at 1pm, asking me to zip over to Nth London for 3pm. Sigh, no, sorry. I couldn’t possible see you in such a short space of time.

Or the gent that called and said, “I’ve finished work early, can I see you tonight?”

Or the gent who called at 10am on the same Wednesday whilst I was in the school uniform shop, asking for a midday booking! Can somebody pass me a nice flat table please so I can repeatedly bang my head against it. You know what, that’s okay, I’ll use the wall. Gaah!!

Okay, I’ve calmed down now. My apologies and thank you for indulging me. As you might imagine I needed to let that out.

P.S. I won’t mention the lovely young racist gentleman who called me a fat n****r, because I refused when he called asking me to call him back so he could make a booking. And then when I threatened him with the police, he then says well, the police would be more interested in you. I said, um, no, because prostitution itself is actually legal, racist abuse isn’t.

And then kind of apologising without actually apologising says, “can I still see you? I love your arse.” Guess what I said?

Yup, just one of those weeks.

Filed under: Ruminations by Kinky