In my five years of experience as an escort, I am eternally thankful for the cross-cultural experiences that sex work has provided me. There was the landscape architect, a gentle giant expressing his weariness over the predictable Japanese maple trend taking root in Toronto. The neuroscience professor who had nervously prepared an elaborate goody bag of local chocolates for my visit. And of course, the dyed-in-the-wool Stephen Harper supporter, a man certainly considered a “pervert” in the eyes of his own government due to his particular inclination toward dirty talk.
Their reasons for seeing me are many: Steve, 85, was married at 19 and never had a chance to explore his personal tastes. Chris, 45, lost his wife to cancer five years ago. Mark, 37, is deeply committed to his career in broadcasting and refuses to put another girlfriend through his demanding schedule. My clients are respectful, complex and, most importantly, absolutely commonplace.
