Tuesday, 28 July 2009
Accidents, Availability, Articles and Aberdeen
I think I've broken my toe again. I can say that with a degree of certainty because it made the same cracking noise as it made the last time I did it on an outcall. I went out for dinner with my guy and then back to the hotel. I went into the bathroom to have a quick shower and change into my lingerie, freshened up my make-up and then draped myself seductively in the doorway. It had the required effect and he said "Wow", so I started slowly towards the bed and was getting ready to do a slow crawl up the bed to my guy when it happened. I cracked my second littlest toe off the edge of the bed and the sting was unbearable. Cue one watery-eyed demented woman hopping around the bedroom and howling in pain. The next day it went black and I knew it was broken so only time will tell on this occasion. Ho hum. But at least it means I get to see my GP again.
Speaking of accidents, on Sunday I took my little princess swimming and we were having a whale of a time. I decided to chill out for a few minutes and float in the pool. After a brief period I stood up and noticed one of the lifeguards staring at me. Now, I'm a realist, and although I'm a lovely looking lady when I'm all dressed up and ready to play, when it's Sunday morning and I'm in my togs with no make-up on, the old phrase "wouldn't get a boot in a stampede" springs to mind. So why was this man staring at me ? He came over to the pool edge and said "Erm .... there seems to be a ..... um ..... " and nodded with his head towards the water. I looked down and to my absolute horror there was a pool of red. NO, NOT THAT !! It was my hair dye, which had obviously reacted with the chlorine. I stuttered and mumbled and tried to explain but the more I spoke the more it looked like I was trying to make an excuse, so I just bowed my head and went to the dressing rooms. It could only happen to me.
A brief word on availability. There's a common belief that we escorts are beautiful women 24/7 and that we are draped across a chaise lounge delicately nibbling grapes and painting our perfectly manicured tootsies, just waiting for your call. Au contraire, I am more likely to be found in my Winnie The Pooh pyjamas eating coco pops with my 8 year old, and it's for this reason that I state I need 4 hours notice for an outcall. If you want a true "girlfriend experience" with moi showing up to your hotel resembling the Bride of Chucky, on your head be it. ( If you don't know who the Bride of Chucky is, I've included a picture above. )
I loved the article in the News of the World about the working girls over the offices of Bob Marshall Andrews MP. In particular this quote tickled me : "What's the difference between a blonde brothel madam and an expenses sponging MP in drag ? One is a member of the most reviled group of individuals in Britain and an embarrassment to decent people and the other is probably quite miffed that her vice girls have to work in a brothel above somewhere as shameful as a labour party office." Haha, you couldn't make it up. Perhaps the honourable MP in question should do a couple of shifts in blistering heat dressed in head to toe PVC to discover the meaning of real hard work. What's better still, he can't claim for the PVC.
Anyhoo, I'm in Aberdeen and having a blast after an exceptionally stressful day yesterday. ( Don't ask ) Tartandoll is here and we're having chicken supreme for dinner, YUM. The other bit of good news is that I have been speaking to a lovely lady in sunny Glasgow and after I come back from my jaunt in Spain with Mr F in September I will hopefully have a new base for incalls in Glasgow. As soon as I know, you'll know.
Yours in white wine and mushroom sauce,