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I started escorting when I was 19 and in my second year of college. At the time, my parents paid my tuition and I lived with a boyfriend who paid most of the rent.
All I needed to cover was my share of the rent, groceries, my phone bill, and anything extra that I wanted, like eating at restaurants, going to shows, or traveling.
As a full time student I only had time to work a part time job. I worked as a cashier at a fast food restaurant and the pay was $8/hour.
I made just enough money to cover my expenses at that wage, but I had to work 30 hours a week to do it. Sometimes I had to choose between spending enough time on a paper or showing up to work.
I always chose work. After a year of running around like crazy trying to go to school, work, and have a life, my grades started slipping from As to Bs.
I needed more time. The only way to have more time was to work less. If I worked less, I wouldn’t have enough money.
Student loans seemed like a bad idea to me. I was a philosophy major with no career plan. I didn’t want to be on the hook for that debt unless I knew for sure I’d be able to pay it back one day.
So, what was a girl to do? I was 19 years old, unwilling to take on debt, and my only work experience had been as a cashier, retail sales associate, and babysitter. I wasn’t qualified to do anything other than a minimum wage job.
I started thinking about the sex industry. I was most interested in doing porn, but I was worried about my parents finding out. Stripping wouldn’t have been an option for me - I can’t dance and I’m too shy.
I googled “escort agencies” and set up a couple of interviews for later that week. It was surprisingly easy to get my foot in the door.
When I showed up to my first interview (at a nicely furnished, modern one bedroom condo in downtown Vancouver) I was greeted by a plump, gray-haired woman in her early 50s. She seemed friendly (spoiler alert: she wasn’t).
She asked to be called Madame, which I thought was a bit odd. Madame sat me down across from her at the kitchen table and smiled at me.
She asked me a few questions, most of which revolved around whether I drank, smoked, or used drugs. After seemingly passing this most minimal of tests, she told me she would need to see me naked.
