The BootyBoxxx Las Vegas Blog

A Tale Of Escorts; Me And  The Booty Boxx

Written by BootyBoxxx Staffer

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I pride myself on being the type of individual that can discriminate between right and wrong. I do like every person that I know: I work hard. I pay my taxes, I come to work everyday, barring being sick or any type of emergency.

And yet, I’m “lazy” because I have to call in: my mother’s in the hospital, or some asshole hits my car enroute. A million other exigent circumstances, and I’m lazy. Funny, how I’m not so lazy ensuring that the spreadsheet one needs in 4 hours was on the desk at 7 AM.

Even more comedic: how the same person can come into my office and tell me how incompetent I am because there’s coffee spilled on what was left for him, in the front on of his desk. Unsoiled. And he’s hold a coffee mug that shows signs of spillage, and wait...I don’t drink coffee at all. I never have in the 12 years here, not trying. He knows this. I know this.

Rather than admit to messing up, he seeks to blame somebody. And his ilk always seems to find it appropriate to blame people of color. Stapler misplaced? Somebody of color had to take it. Garbage emptied, and a report needed happened to end up there? Has to be a person of color.

Now, most of my coworkers and superiors are of range: from White to brown and other. Funny how we see things the same way. I leave correspondence on their desk first thing in the morning. Something happens, they come to my desk all cheery. “Hey, D, I spilt something on this. Can I get a new one?”

Where does decorum lie? Of course, I love my job. I love what I do. So I always make 2 copies, just in case. And those that actually give a shit tell the truth. And in that, I have no problems helping them.

But this same person that despises brown people, is well known for it and yet never taken for task. How do I deal with him when everybody higher up talks about how “great” and “hard working” he is? Never mind that all this bullshit is because I’m doing it.

I could beat his ass, but that only results in two things: me going to jail and losing my job. While I’m thinking about how to beat down a bigot, I’m informed that we have a meeting the following Monday in Vegas. Why I was included, I didn’t know why. Ask a few questions, and get a great answer: I’m supposed to support my “leader”, the bigot. And he has all our travel plans ready to go.

And has it goes: he and all his friends have nice first class seats, me and my other “colored” companions get economy. Same goes for hotels when we arrive: we get shitholes while they are on the strip in luxury.

How do you deal with this kind of bullshit? I can’t fight him. I can’t say anything outright. But then, I’ve never been a stupid man. I know how to screw with a bigot’s head. So I do a little research, and find this site . An escort? Really? Now, the same people in my boat are telling me it’s a bad idea. Why look for a call girl. I then clarify: I’m paying for an escort, not a call girl. They don’t seem to understand the difference, I can break it down. I would sleep with a call girl, that’s my niche. With an escort: all she has to do is laugh at my stupid jokes and act like I’m somebody.

Delicious irony: find a site like this: how many men pay for sex? Far less than you’d think. Somebody to talk to freely, somebody they can hold and be held...Maybe they want to put on a pair of panties and feel oh so pretty. I’m not the judge, nor am I a jury. If they aren’t doing these women harm, who am I to say anything?

Sometimes it’s a better therapy. Period.

So I go online and look for the typical: blonde, blue eyed White girl. Is it my type? Not really, but she’s actually a nice bird: physically and mentally. As we make our way to the destination, I tell her why I hired her. She’s to be my dutiful escort. She’s more allowed to speak her opinion, but I need her to be on my side. Period. Kisses on the cheek and hands, no more. She’s more than agreeable, which is no surprise. Not because she’s an escort, but the business that she resides in teaches decorum, amongst other things.

Some places you go to, all they teach is “screw your john, you’re good.” What if your john doesn’t want sex? Wants to talk or just listen to music next to a body? Yeah, screwed the pooch on that one, no?

My escort was a bit more up for the events to come, bless her. After finding the site and asking numerous questions, I found it easy to pay my money for this bird - let’s call her Melissa. Like the website advertised, they do anything! Let’s be honest, though. “Anything” doesn’t mean “anything”. So if you’re thinking some ill or real weird stuff, go someplace else. I don’t know if they if they do it, but hopefully, they not only teach the women decorum, but how to handle a bastard. Just saying.

So, I bring Melissa to my hotel room so I can get dressed for the part. For her part, as an escort, she asks questions to know what she’s dealing with. Can I repeat again how we’re to act and what’s going. It’s a moot point: she understands it all. Which works for me in ways you’ll never understand.

I offer a drink, so we both have two shots of vodka: I love my vodka, I will not lie. Melissa doesn’t. After the second shot, she admits she’s more a whiskey girl. I admire the honesty, so promise not only free shots, but God willing, a bottle. She goes with that, and off we go

Did I mention my escort was bright? That she was more than capable? From the moment I saw her on the site in question; hell, from the moment we actually met: that’s money well spent. And that she got it without having to ask, which some of you are: paying for an escort? Really? You can’t be that smart, or handsome, can you….

Well, here is that for you. The same cats that look down on me are the same sons of bitches that came to my office crying about that “perfect girl” they were seeing. And it goes as such:

“I didn’t have enough bling. My car wasn’t shiny enough”.

“She needed to ‘reconnect’ with her ex”. Meaning: you’re the rebound. Get over it.

“He wanted somebody more spontaneous”. You mean, your man left you for a younger woman, no job, no goals or ambition. Feel lucky. You’re not going to spend your life paying for a deadbeat.

And they all come with this shit, wonder why I have an escort? Money gladly paid, less than I would on 3 or 4 bad dates. Take her to the company party, and she’s the dream: she’s polite, quick to say hello and introduce herself as my date.

My supervisor and his ilk: they hate her. Not as much as they hate me, however. How dare I bring this woman to an event like this? Never mind they had sprung for their wives, first class accommodations while the rest of us got the ass end of said “company meeting”. The only plus: free room service up to $200 each. Don’t get it twisted: we were by the strip, so room service was expensive as if we were at bigger hotels. And while our higher ups had unlimited room service, we had what basically what amounted to scraps.

So, me bringing in Melissa- my incredible escort - caused ripples. She was polite, introduced herself, even made up a story on how we met at the library. I love to read, so I sat back and said nothing, merely throwing in a bon mot once or twice before asking her to dance, of if she needed a refill.

At the end of it all, do I regret hiring an escort? Hell, to the no. Let’s not be stupid, all. I could’ve hired somebody with less class, less image. But I did my homework, and when more than 4 people can tell you that this place is worth it, and they’re all residents of Vegas, I’m going to take it like I take advice from the heads in DC: where not to be, where not walk after dark, etc.….

And in my varied life: you can’t be surprised by the advice you get. Either you take it, or you deal. But if enough of the residents that have been in a place for God knows how long...why not take the advice? Might save your ass down the line.

As for Melissa...after she did her job, not only did she get paid. Last night in the shit hotel, I spent that scraps we were left on a feast, $50 still left. As we all boarded the bus for the airport, my fellows asked me if it was worth it, even as we’re going to economy class flights again. Never mind we do the heavy lifting. We’ve done all the hard work so others profit from it.

So hiring an escort to piss them off? Having a good time doing it? Get outta here. It was worth every little penny. And it was fun. If you want to aim for mischief: go there. Have fun. You won’t regret it.