This is a story of one particular experience gone awry. At the time I was working as an independent escort with my useless driver (but that’s another story).
It was my second month back on the job and I was going to see my 7 th client. Not seventh client of the day, but the 7th as an independent. Seven is my lucky number, that’s why I still remember.
That evening I posted my ad on Craigslist, just like I did on all the other nights looking for work. As the emails flooded my Inbox I scanned through searching for a client asking for an outcall (date at his place).
My only selection criterion was on how serious a guy sounded on making an appointment and whether he wanted it ASAP.
I sent off an email with all the details to a guy by the nickname 'Monster'. He seemed interested in seeing me. When I received a response back within a few minutes, I was 99% sure that he was going to be the one. I didn’t give out my phone number so email was the only way for me to contact someone. And if I had a guy contact me within seconds I knew I had a hold on him.
He wanted to see me at 10 PM for an hour at his house in the South part of town. After getting a few more details (such as address and his phone number) the visit was confirmed. This meant I had to be out the door within 25 minutes to get there with a few minutes to spare.
(I hate being late. I’d rather get there early and sit in the car waiting).
I told my driver that we were heading out. We got in my car (yes, LOL, his old cruiser was at the shop) and I drove to the address supplied by my client. As I slowly drove by the buildings looking for the address I realized that it was an apartment building. I parked about a block away, facing the building so that the front entrance was in plain sight. It was 10 minutes to 10 when I looked at the clock. With a few extra minutes to go, I took out the scrap piece of paper with the address written on it.
“He didn’t give me his apartment number.” I turned and looked at my driver.
“He didn’t say it was a condo, didn’t he say it was a house?” My driver asked.
“Yes, well I’ll give him a call and ask him for it before I leave.” I said.
I dialed his number and waited for the pick up.
“Hi, I have arrived. Can you tell me what your apartment number is please?” I spoke into the cell phone.
“Oh yea, sorry. It’s 3326. But I’m not home at the moment; I’ll be there in about 5 minutes. I just went out to get some cash from the ATM. You can wait in the lobby and I’ll be there soon.” He said.
“Why don’t we do it like this…I wait for you to return back home. You settle down and I’ll give you a call in 15 minutes to check that you’re home? Then I will come up to see you.” I instructed him.
“Uh…okay, see you then.” And he hung-up the phone.
I filled in the unit number on the piece of paper containing the address.
“Here, this is the suite number he gave me. If anything goes wrong…like I don’t pick up the phone you know where to find me.” I said to my passenger.
“Okay…” he said taking the piece of paper out of my hand.
We sat in the car with the heat blasting for 15 minutes. It was January 2nd and the night was freezing cold.
“I didn’t see anyone go into the building. Did you?” I asked my driver.
“No, didn’t see anyone. And it’s been 15 minutes already,” was his response.
“I’ll give him a call to see if he’s back home. Maybe he used the back door.”
“Hello, are you home?”
“Yes. I am now,” said the client.
“Cool, I will be there in a minute,” I answered and hung-up.
“You know the drill right? 15 minutes at most and you call if I don’t call you.” I told the driver before slamming the car door behind me.