A couple of lovely appointments was had this week, including a late night visit to one of my clients from the early days. I’ve been seeing this chap since my first year in 2002. He’s from Barcelona and comes over on business every few months. But on the last occassion he wanted to see me it was on a Tuesday evening, which as you know by now I no longer do. So it must’ve been at least a year since I last saw this client, and it was lovely seeing him again after such a long absence.
Because of his schedule, he sometimes requires a late night visit, on this occasion 10.30pm. Now you know me, I don’t like working past 9pm at the best of times, so it’s a little alien to me leaving the house at near enough that time to go into Central London. But this client is one of the loveliest chaps I’ve had the pleasure of meeting in this business and as I say, we go way back, so I see it as a special favour to him. And I know he rarely sees anybody else when he’s here. There were one or two ocassions when our diaries clashed and he’s had to call upon the favours of another escort similar in physique and colour to me, but apart from that, I’m his one and only.
Now, when I see this particular gentleman, there are a few things he requires. He loves to see me in pvc gear, so this past Wednesday I packed my new skirt (sorry caveman, didn’t manage to get a picture of the skirt) and pvc top with pvc gloves and a few other things into an overnight bag and off I set. You’d think after all these years I’d be used to carrying such paraphenalia around. But I must admit I still felt a little uneasy. Has your mother ever told you to make sure you have clean underwear on, in case you were ever in an accident and you needed to be rushed to hospital? Well, I think to myself, forget my knickers (not literally I hasten to add), what if I was in an accident and they looked through my holdall for contact details? Imagine what they’d find; condoms, lube, stilletos, pvc gear to name but a few items.
I’m used to taking my lingerie with me to my work flat, but that’s lingerie, it’s easier to explain away than pvc, don’t you think? So yes, after all these years, I’m still a little uneasy when travelling with certain items in my bag. I would imagine that it must be the stuff of nightmares of quite a few escorts.
I also got the chance to catch up with the warrior that is Adorable Amy, a good friend in the business. She had a busy
few days in London but was able to manage to squeeze me in for lunch yesterday afternoon. We met outside our favourite eatery, YoSushi, and we had a good old chinwag for a few hours. It was actually dinner time by the time I got home and my progeny had wondered if I had been abducted (God forbid they try switching the oven on by themselves). We pigged out on items from the conveyor belt, ordered a couple 
of dishes like their misho soup, hairy prawns and chicken katsui with curry sauce from the menu, finished off with a cup of green tea and we finally extricated ourselves from their stools at around 4pm. We were still nattering outside the restaurant an hour later, would you believe? But remember I only get to see her every couple of months or so when she comes to London and on the next ocassion when she visits in August I’ll be in Edinburgh and Manchester. She is great company and we have other things in common besides work. So I’ll miss our next lunch date, in both senses of the word.
Amy had admittedly gone a little crazy at Konditor & Cook (which I do feel a little responsible for as I introduced her to the 
bakery), but she saved me a brownie, which I received and consumed with much thanks. She did say she knew she was in trouble when the shop assistant says, “hold on, you’ll need a bigger bag….”
I had the brownie with a mug of hot chocolate later on when settled under the duvet for the evening. Oooh baby, it was scrumptious. As it’s my birthday next weekend I considered it a birthday treat. I also plan to treat myself to a couple of cupcakes from the Hummingbird Bakery, stick a candle in it and wish myself a happy birthday. I’m at the age now where nobody bothers celebrating such frivolities with either their mother or their partner, so I celebrate by myself. Which is why I’m disappearing for the day next Saturday. It’ll be a day when everybody will have to fend for themselves. Well, the take-out menu’s on the fridge door.
Happy Father’s Day.
