Confessions of a Call Girl’s Friend

She wanted children and to be aroused by witty conversation and sweetly hushed affections. She loved reading poetry and watching sappy films; she was deeply emotional. But she couldn’t fit into the world she dreamed of — she was too jaded. She had seen too much of the detached, carnivorous side of men. She knew men who paid for their satisfaction as if it were a piece of steak. She knew men didn’t value what women valued. Men wanted to fuck aggressively and they got off when there was no love at all. She coped with these personal revelations by saying, “You might as well get paid.” After all, she would point out, other women prostituted themselves for love, a stable marriage, some kind of commitment or promise, or for dinner. But what they got was sex, and Toni at least got paid.

I don’t think she knew how jaded she had become, how a decade of prostitution had seeped into her attitude. She was drawn to rich men. Sometimes she tried to date, but invariably would end up treating the guy like a trick. She’d have sex with him immediately, because that’s what he wanted, and then expect him to pay — for dinner, a dress and, once, her dental bill. Once he found out she was a hooker, he’d want her to stop doing tricks, but then she’d have no money and it was up to him to provide. It never lasted very long. Her affection was too expensive. AlterNet