Thursday, August 28, 2008

Freak of the Week - The Dead Guy

I had this 1 customer today who’ll probably never come back. But it’s not my fault this time – I swear. I think he’s gone out of shear embarrassment. Let me explain…

I got this really old guy today, looked like he was in his 70’s. I usually don’t mind the older guys since they tend to be really sweet and chatty. What I can’t stand are the proverbial “Dirty Old Men.” Let me tell ya – there’s nothing cute about an old wrinkly guy calling you a “whore” and trying to pinch and grab your ass all session. Don’t even let me get started!

Luckily this guy was one of the nice ones. Now it was during the hand release that he leans his head way back and opens his mouth wide as he’s moaning. Just at that exact moment, he shoots a single load of jizz that flies straight up – and then down into his open mouth. Suddenly he stops enjoying his orgasm and starts gagging! I let go of his penis and helped him sit up. He kept coughing and wheezing for like 5 minutes! I didn’t know what to do so I just sort of patted him on the back. I don’t think the Heimlich maneuver applies to semen.

Anyways, after what seemed like forever he eventually settled down and started breathing regularly. I asked him what his obituary should say if he dies choking on semen in a massage parlor. He laughed and said at least it was his own semen and not someone else’s.

Now I told you that story to tell you this one. This guy is not this weeks “Freak of the Week.” But he reminded me of one of my first customers from the good old days. Before you read on, just remember that I was young and na├»ve back in those days. Not the hard, callous bitch you know me as now!

This story occurred during my first year in the Business. Gus (as we’ll call him) was one of my first old guys, so I still didn’t know what to expect. Anyways, we had a relatively normal session, but when Gus was right in the middle of his happy ending, he starts choking. And I mean a real bad choke – like a seizure. His body went totally stiff and then he stops breathing. His face turned beet red and his eyes squeezed shut. Then after about 10 seconds frozen like this, he totally collapsed on my table!

So there I was – a very young high school graduate, standing there naked in a dark room in front of an old, lifeless body. I poked him a few times, “Hey Gus, you all right?” Nothing. I shook him good, “Hello! Wake up!” Still nothing. Picked up his arm and it fell like a brick.

Shit! He’s dead!!!! Fuck!!! Shit!!! Holy shit!!!! Fuck fuck fuck!!!

To say I panicked is an understatement. They never covered dead people in massage school! So I did what any trained and licensed professional would do. I decided to dispose of the evidence. I cleaned him up as best I could with a towel. Then I started putting his clothes back on. Have you ever tried dressing someone who was passed out? It’s like that, only 10 times worse since you have to deal with the fact that you’re touching a dead guy.

I threw my own clothes back on, then I opened the door and yelled for my coworker – Summer. She was a seasoned veteran and one of the first friends I made in this business, so I knew I could trust her to know what to do. Summer came running over and took 1 look at Gus.

“Why is he wearing his clothes?”

“Uh… Because he’s dead?”



So after we both had a good scream, I consulted with my colleague over what we should do with our former customer. As an expert in her chosen profession, Summer knew exactly what to do in this situation.

We have to get him in the dumpster.”

I concurred and added that the Business would be closing early that night. So here we were – two 110 pound girls trying to figure out how to get this poorly dressed 200 pound dead guy off the table and moved 200 feet across a crowded parking lot and into the dumpster. She wanted nothing to do with touching a dead guy, so we decided to first wrap him in the table sheet. That way we don’t have to touch or even look at him.

We cocoon poor Gus in the white sheet he passed away on. To get him down, we each took an end of the sheet and started pulling with all our might to edge him off the table. Summer was stronger than me, so she managed to lower him off the table head first. I had trouble with my end so his legs were kinda still hanging off the table edge while his head was on the floor. This was the position in which Gus decided to wake up.

He gave a very load croaking sound, like he was snoring and choking at the same time. Needless to say, both Summer and I jumped out of our skins. Summer dropped his head on the ground and I let go of his feet. Gus kinda collapsed in a heap on the floor. He opened his eyes and looked at us, then down at his rumpled clothes and the bed sheet wrapped around him.

“What the hell…?” He looked at Summer, “Who are you? And why am I on the floor? And what’s this sheet?”

Gus had narcolepsy. Turns out this isn’t the first time he’s passed out and woken up in a weird way. So Summer and I told him the whole Gawd’s honest truth about how we decided (for his own personal safety) to dress him and lower him from the table to better accommodate someone in his delicate condition. Luckily for us, he seemed to buy that story, and we all ended up having a good laugh about it later – especially Summer since she promised Gus I’d give him a free session.


Tuesday, August 26, 2008

Audrey is a lying, stealing, motherfucking bitch

You wanna know how much money I’ve made over the last 2 shifts? Exactly $23. Wanna know how you earn $23 in 2 shifts? I had 3 therapeutic massages, and only 1 of those cheap fuckers bothered to tip me, and he gave me (out of guilt) everything left in his wallet - $23.

Why am I getting screwed? Because that cunt Audrey has been hogging the front desk for the last 2 days, and she just conveniently schedules paying customers for herself and non-tipping therapeutics for me. Look – I know I gotta do the therapeutics just like everyone else, but she’s purposely been sticking me with them. How do I know? Because those 2 non-tipping shits told me they had requested Audrey, but she was too “busy.” THAT BITCH!

Hey – I gotta fill my gas tank just like everyone else. I also have to pay for my food and cell phone and cable and electricity. $23 dollars doesn’t even cover my lunch and gas for 2 days. Fuck I’m mad!!!!!!

And while I had 3 therapeutics in 2 shifts, you wanna guess how many PAYING customers Audrey had? EIGHT (8). When that dumb bitch saw how angry I was getting after watching her book customers for 2 straight days, all she had to say was “Sorry, they were all appointments.” Yeah – appointments to finger you, you dirty skank. Or are you blowing them now? I wouldn’t doubt it. Gawd I hate this place.

Trina feels the same way. Apparently Audrey has been pulling the same shit with her all week. We need to quit this place and start our own business. But then again, I don’t know if I can trust Trina either. I think she’s just 1 late rent payment away from offering blowjobs in session.
Who knows – at this rate maybe I’m not that far behind her either!

And to make things worse, I had to throw out 2 customers today. The first was some cheap ass piece of shit from Philly who actually argued with me about how he thinks everything should be included in the door price – namely the options and happy ending. Sorry buddy, but your $40 only gets you a Crack-Ho around here. Now what really set me off was the next guy who waited till he was already in the room to let me know that he only had $20 to tip, but he wanted a topless with hand release. Now I’ve had this type of asshole plenty of times – the guy who knowingly gets in the room with little money, and hopes you’ll bargain with him. Normally it doesn’t set me off, but after the week I’ve had, this guy said the absolutely wrong thing to me – “But Audrey does it all the time…”

I was actually looking forward to coming in today since it was just gonna be me and Trina. But that was it - I went ballistic on his ass. I started yelling at the guy, “I don’t care what you do with that bitch! You’ve been here before, so don’t you even pretend you don’t know what the prices are. If Audrey wants to jerk your sorry ass off for $20, that’s fine. But ya know what - ya get what you pay for. And her shit may be worth only $20, but mine ain’t!”

And with that I opened the door to the room and stood there looking at him. I don’t think he was expecting his session to go this way because he just left without looking me in the eye. He may end up telling Audrey that I was rude to him, but at this point I don’t really care anymore. She can have as many customers like this that she wants.


p.s. It's nice having a place to vent.

p.p.s. Since I originally wrote this, I had a customer confess that she blew him for $100. Gawd I hate her so much!!!!!

Friday, August 22, 2008

Apology to Andy

Hey guys...

I've really been feeling guilty about the whole Andy thing. To make it worse, I didn't even bother to talk to him after the session, so I haven't had a chance to say "sorry." When I finally went back to the room for my clothes, he had left the tip on the table and let himself out. We NEVER do that to customers, so I really was a jerk that day.

What I'll probably do is offer him a free upgrade in options next time or maybe a "double." A double is where I give a happy ending at the beginning AND end of the session. 45 minutes is more than enough time for a guy to recuperate. Hopefully that'll smooth things over.

Andy... if you're out there somewhere reading this, I'm truly sorry! Come back and I'll make it up to you!

Boy - what a weird week. I deserve whatever happens to me right now.


p.s. On a side note, I don't think I'd be comfortable telling ANY of my customers about this blog thing. Can you imagine what their reactions would be????? All their sorded details for the entire internet to see... I think my clientele would suddenly turn into all boring therapeutics, and then where would we be? You'd all be bored and I'd be broke.

So just be thankful that I'm a gossip. LOL


Thursday, August 21, 2008

My Worst Massage Ever

I have to tell you guys about what happened during session yesterday. I swear, it was probably the worst massage I’ve ever given. I am totally embarrassed to admit it, but I will confess and take full responsibility. I have no excuses. But let me first say that if there are any future customers reading this, I promise I would never ever do this to you.

So let me explain.

My sister and her semi/quasi/part-time/boyfriend had a big fight the other day that bordered on breakup. I hadn’t spoken to her since then so I was dying for the details.
I was in the middle of my shift yesterday when my sister finally called me. But just as she started to go into detail, the boyfriend called and she had to take it - swearing up and down she’d call me immediately afterwards.

Just then one of my Regulars, Andy, showed up unexpectedly. I was reluctant to take him, so I kinda stalled for time hoping that she’d call, but after a few minutes I gave up and booked him in. Andy is a really nice guy – quiet, but easy to get along with. He paid for 45 minutes (damn - I can’t wait 45 minutes to call my sister back!) so I just gritted my teeth and took him to the room.

Now at this point you have to understand. My baby sister is on the verge of breaking up and right when she’s about to give me her final decision, the boyfriend calls. Is this a cliffhanger or what? What could I do? Well, I did what anyone would have done – I brought my phone in session and explained to Andy that I was expecting a really really important phone call, but it shouldn’t interfere with anything.

Andy wants a G-string, so I take the phone out of my pocket and place it on the stand next to the lotion warmer. I swear to Gawd, not 10 minutes into the massage, the phone rings. It’s my sister.
Andy, I gotta take this. You understand, right?” He nods. A nod means its OK – right? Anyway, I wipe my hands on a towel and open the phone to hear my sister crying. So there I am, standing there in nothing but a G-string consoling my sister while poor naked Andy is sprawled on the table.

After a few minutes, I realize that Andy is staring at the clock. “Sorry Andy…” I swear I was gonna tell my sister I’d call her back, but instead I just sort of started rubbing Andy’s back – the phone tucked in my shoulder as I continued to calm my sister. “… Why do you let that asshole treat you like that?... Andy, I’m getting off the phone in 2 minutes, I swear...”

I start working his upper thighs while Sis tells me about the e-mails she found from an ex-girlfriend. “I hear ya… I would have done the exact same thing… OK Andy – flip… Now what did those e-mails say?”

Andy’s being a good sport. He usually doesn’t say much during session anyway, so I don’t feel too guilty. And it’s not like I’m skimping on the massage. Now she’s telling me about the 3 hour argument they had last night as I reach for the warm baby oil. “Close your eyes Andy and relax… He did not!...” Instinctively I started working Andy’s penis with my left hand. “… And you didn’t say anything to him?...” Without even thinking, my right hand slides over his balls. “…why would you let him do that?...You like that Andy, you like my warm hand?...I told you that yesterday!”

At some point, Andy came. I could tell because he touched my hand to make me stop. I looked down – he came alright. “Uh huh… that’s exactly what you should do… Here’s a towel Andy… and I’ll go if you need any help.” I wiped my hands, looked at Andy, and pointed at my phone. “I’m gonna take this outside…Uh… you were saying?...” And I just walked out of my room, completely topless and wandered towards the back room to finish the call. Left my clothes in the room and everything.

And Sis didn’t get off the phone for another half hour. I just sat on the office couch in my G-string while Trina rolled her eyes at me.

So does this make me a bad person? I swear I will never do anything like that to any customer ever again. I know some of you are already offended by my little STD/baby joke, so I'm not helping myself any. Please find it in your hearts to forgive me!


Tuesday, August 19, 2008

Babies and Other Sexually Transmitted Diseases

I have to tell you the funniest story. Yesterday I visited a friend of mine in the hospital who just had a baby. He was a little small, but still all right. My friend (we’ll call her Theresa) got knocked up by this asshole guy she’s been seeing for almost a year now.

What makes him an asshole did you ask? Well let me explain – I call him an asshole since he messed around with another woman while with Theresa (8 months ago to be exact). Ya see where this is going?

Anyway, he knocked up this other woman (let’s just call her the Slut), but she wasn’t due for another month. Well, I guess she got wind of when Theresa was due, because she was in the hospital at the EXACT SAME TIME. Turns out that when she learned Theresa had gone into labor, she started punching herself in the stomach and doing whatever else needed to go into premature labor.

The Slut ended up on the same floor, but luckily on the other end of the hall from us. The father actually wore TWO wrist bands indicating he was a double daddy! And he had noooooooo trouble walking back and forth between the 2 rooms all night. In fact, you could say he was damn proud of himself.

I found out that the doctors and nurses on the floor had a pool going as to who was going to deliver first – mamma A or mamma B. Turns out that Theresa delivered first by 1 whole hour. I know that none of this has anything to do with erotic massage, but I just had to share this story. But don’t worry, I’ll talk about work soon enough.

For those of you who are really upset that I’ve gone off topic, let’s just pretend that while I was in the hospital I gave a handjob to an intern in exchange for a box of alcohol wipes. There – is that


Friday, August 15, 2008

Outcall Massage

I just wanted you guys to know that I try to answer all of your questions. But sometimes when I get started on an answer I realize that the little comment box is way too small. So once again, I'll answer your questions here. What can I say - I love to chat.

Anyway, I got a couple comments last week about "Outcall massage." I used to know a couple girls who did outcall massage but I'm not going to pretend I know everything about it. For those of you newbies out there, "Outcall" refers to businesses that you call up, and a girl comes over to your house/motel. There are 3 types of outcall services:

1) Therapeutic massage from a LMT (Licensed Massage Therapist) - done on a portable massage table.
2) Non-therapeutic "Relaxing Massage" with happy ending - usually done on a bed.
3) Full-service escort agencies that advertise under the name "Outcall massage" - also done on bed, but ain't no massage going on here!

What I do know is that outcall LMT's are available for people who are truly bedridden. It's a decent career option for LMTs, and it can be a gold mine if you hook up with an agency with lots of clients. I was never crazy about the idea because you basically have to be on call for hours at a time, work with people who are sometimes really ill, drive all over town, lug your massage table around in the trunk of the car, and give half your $$ to an agency. No thanks!

Someone left a question the other day about whether a friend of hers was giving happy endings since she does outcall massage. Well - it depends. If she's working regular business hours of 9am to 9pm, and her agency works with LMT's ONLY, then chances are there's no funny stuff. If the hours are late, and some of her co-workers are not LMTs, then your friend may be doing the old rub-n-tug.
I knew a girl at another business that did outcall massage, and the rules were very weird. Apparently, they had their own secret code to separate the therapeutic clients from the happy ending ones. She would tell the clients to put on a towel while she "freshened up." Then she'd ask them if they wanted the massage "with or without the towel." This was apparently the code for whether they wanted a happy ending or not.

No towel = options with happy ending :)
Towel = therapeutic massage with no happy ending :(

And she added that the towel thing also determined what kind of masseuse she would be. A towel meant that she put on her "serious" face and gave a proper therapeutic with very little chit-chat. No towel meant she could be flirty and give a "girlfriend" type massage. But either way, she said she always wore very conservative outfits since you never knew what kind of client it would be.

And that's prety much all I know about the world of Outcall Massage. If any of you guys can add to this, feel free. That reminds me - If anyone out there is interested in a never-used portable massage table, I'll make you a deal. It's been taking up space in my mom's basement ever since I graduated massage school.


Wednesday, August 13, 2008

Internet dating update

Hey guys,

I checked out some of those sites you suggested, but decided upon Match. They have that 6 month guarantee thing, so why not. I will NOT do E-harmony. A friend of mine once had a bad experience with them.

I have this friend who's a very devout Presbyterian...

(I know what you're all thinking - what's a nice Roman Catholic girl like me doing with a member of what's basically little more than a cult? Well, I'm very open minded when it comes to issues of religious tolerance, and I have a great capacity of caring for these poor, misguided heathen souls).

...Anyway... she was on E-harmony for several months and ended up being courted by this like-minded, religious guy. They talked for weeks and weeks about their love of the Bible and God and Jesus and even Little Baby Jesus. So when they finally decided it was time to meet, the conversation suddenly turned to what she looked like.

He was very quick to let her know that he worked out every day and was a fitness freak. When she described herself as slightly less than perfect (I think the term she used was "fluffy"), the e-mails suddenly stopped. Well, she kept at it and reminded him of their shared love for God, Jesus and Little Baby Jesus. He came around, apologized and agreed to see her.

You know where this is going, right? They had 1 date that she said went "well" but he never contacted her again. So if you think I'm going to take some stupid personality test that scientifically calculates and finds a guy who still turns out to be an asshole - you can forget it because I can do that at the local bar for free!


Tuesday, August 12, 2008


I have so much work stuff I want to talk about, but I have to tell you about my weekend first.

Remember how I was all bitchy and depressed when I realized I was missing my annual romantic getaway to the beach? Well, I was complaining about it last week to (of all people) Audrey. And even though she’s a lying, stealing and conniving skank, she actually felt bad enough to take me to Atlantic City for the weekend!

I was supposed to work Saturday and Sunday, so she just offered my shifts to the new girl (who was more than happy for the chance to make some extra $$) and off we went. It turns out that Audrey had all these comps at Caesar’s that she’s been sitting on, so hotel room and food we’re practically free! Friday morning I packed a couple of my sluttiest dresses, a pair of shorts, T-shirts, and a bikini and we jumped in her car and made it to AC by noon.

And let me tell ya – even though I talk a lot of shit about her, we had the best time! We started off our weekend with a couple drinks at the bar (which by the way were the ONLY drinks I had to pay for all weekend!) then we hit the boardwalk for some site seeing and sun. We went window shopping in that new pier/mall thing next to Caesars. We had funnel cake on the boardwalk. We even went on a ride with one of those rick-shaw things. It was just soooooo nice to spend a few days giving my arm a rest.

Now I prefer the beaches of Maryland for vacation, but this was the one and only time I had fun at the Jersey shore. They have this bar that’s actually across the boardwalk and located on the beach. We practically lived there for 2 days. I met a bunch of really cute guys, but there was this 1 in particular who was really hot and kept buying drinks for me and Audrey. She said he kinda looked like Nick Lachey, only hotter. We drank and danced and basically teased the shit out of everyone. Audrey’s only rule for the weekend was no guys in the room since this was supposed to be about me just having a good time and forgetting about my singleness. So needless to say, poor CJ went home with Audrey every evening.

Funny thing about casino bars in AC - apparently the male clientele sometimes have trouble distinguishing between the party girls and the working girls. I figured this out after 2 guys made really really bad attempts to ask me "how much?" without actually saying "how much?" So I asked the bartender if the place was full of assholes or was it just me. He explained that the hookers come out in force on the weekends, but it would take a really drunken, overly optimistic guy to confuse me with one.

Now when we weren’t milking guys for drinks, or dirty dancing in front of the DJ, we were hitting the slots (I won $25 – go me!), pigging out at a buffet, or shopping. Saturday and Sunday mornings were spent on the beach nursing our hangovers and working on our tans.

When we left for home on Sunday evening (never leave AC on a Sunday afternoon – the expressway is a parking lot), I had 5 phone numbers scribbled on napkins and business cards, and Audrey had 11. It was on the Atlantic City Expressway that Audrey introduced me to a ritual of hers. Whenever she heads home from a weekend in AC, she opens up all the windows in the car and cranks the radio really loud. Then sometime after the first toll booth, she takes the phone numbers she has collected and throws them all out the window. She called this her “purging ritual” and said it was necessary to keep AC as her special getaway and not let it affect her home life.

So I took a deep breath and emptied my fake Prada purse of all those little memories of the guys that coulda been – even Nick Lachey guy. I have to admit, it felt kinda good to know that I still got it!


Thursday, August 7, 2008

Confessions of an Erotic Legal Assistant

One of you guys commented the other day about why we're not harrased by the authorities more often. This got me thinking (which is something I'm just sooooo not good at), so let me explain what I know. We're what’s known as a “nuisance” business. Basically, we’re in the same class as adult bookstores and tattoo parlors. From what I can figure, we’re called a “nuisance” because nobody really wants us around. But guess what? We pay our taxes and our rent in what would otherwise be abandoned office space. And THAT is precisely why the town doesn’t hassle us.

Sure – the locals would probably love to see a Starbucks here, or perhaps a boutique specializing in ceramic cats dressed as celebrities. But the fact of the matter is that places like us take up the retail space that no one else wants. Starbucks isn’t exactly itching for that spot at the end of the corridor behind the bail bondsman.

Please notice that we are NOT in the same category as strip clubs. Believe it or not, a “nuisance” business is actually a step up from a strip club. I’ve learned that towns HATE strip clubs. I don’t know about other states, but here in PA, strip clubs aren’t allowed to sell alcohol, but you’re allowed to BYOB. This means that the town has to deal with all the problems associated with a sleazy bar, but with none of the tax revenues.

How do I know all this stuff? A couple years ago, the state of PA wanted to crack down on massage parlors. This is when I learned all this legal stuff about the Business. I did my homework by reading through all the statutes on “Massage Practices.” I discovered that the state was going to go after us by targeting unlicensed masseuses. Our Business was safe since we had 3 licenses between us. The idea was that a town could audit your Business, and if there were no LMT’s (Licensed Massage Therapists) on staff, then out you go.

Full service places try to have 1 or 2 LMTs on staff, just to keep the locals off their backs. But once a place becomes more brothel than massage parlor, they have more things to worry about than a town clerk counting LMT diplomas.

We don’t worry about the town hassling us since we’re not a full-service operation. If a customer comes in and asks for sex – we refer him to the Other Place across town. I know that Audrey is doing some full-service stuff, but it’s with her Regulars.

What worries me now is that Trina has begun offering “extras” to some of her Regulars since she’s been desperate for cash lately. At least I HOPE they’re Regulars! All it takes is 1 badly phrased attempt to offer something a little “extra” to some new customer we can’t trust, and we’ll have guys in suits knocking on our door!

But let me tell ya - if business doesn't pick up here pretty soon, I'll be offering "extras" to pay my cable bill. Hmmmmmmm... Let a customer finger me, or lose my "Entourage?" Don't make me choose!


Tuesday, August 5, 2008

Internet Dating

Ya see that picture from my profile? That was taken a couple years ago when I first tried internet dating. Now I didn’t do anything normal like Match or E-Harmony or something like that. Instead, I went on this website that specialized in Sugar Daddy/Sugar Baby relationships (yes – I was a gold digger back then). Let me tell ya, I had some of the funniest guys writing me. And I don’t mean funny ha-ha. I mean some of these guys were really bizarre and full of themselves.

The first category of guy I’d call the “Form Letter.” These were the ones that wrote a long response about how successful they were, but just needed that special someone (other than their wife in some cases). I called them “form letters” because they were generic, never referred to anything I said in my ad, and could be sent to anyone.

Then there were the “Nice tits!” guys. Gee – I feel so flattered. NEXT!

And finally, there were the real deals – guys that would actually write something interesting or funny in response to my ad. I ended up chatting with a bunch of these guys. I just loved how they wanted to pick me up in their private jet, or sail on their yacht, or shop in NYC. One guy actually asked for my Paypal address so he could start sending me money!! (No – I didn’t give it to him. What kinda girl do you think I am?)

I just enjoyed chatting anonymously with these guys more than anything. In fact, that’s where the name CJ comes from – it’s my internet name. I’d even go so far as to send a couple pics of me with the eyes blurred out (thanks in part to photoshop). But I think what really turned me off to actually meeting any of these guys was the fear that most of them were pimply faced 16 year old boys living in their parents basement, or serial killers. Know what I mean?

However, there was 1 guy that actually persuaded me to give him my number. He said he was this rich businessman who wanted to spoil me rotten. He was definitely the most interesting and believable of the guys I had been talking to. We talked a few times on the phone and eventually he said he could meet me as he was “passing through” these parts.

I don’t know why I agreed, because I felt really really weird after saying yes. I thought 3 times about just cancelling, but he sounded sooooooooooo nice on the phone. Oh well. I went through with it and met him at a local restaurant. BUT as I had feared, he was anything but a rich businessman trying to spoil me rotten. He was just a lonely traveling salesman with no money and a wife who didn’t “understand” him. We still had a nice dinner and we talked for a bit about his personal problems, but that was about it.

That’s when I gave up the internet dating thing and did things the old fashioned way – meeting guys in bars. That’s how I ended up with that last jerk.

Why am I talking about internet dating? I’m seriously thinking of jumping online again. Partly because I’m getting bored with the Brad Pitt clone, and partly because everyone on this blog thing has been so nice to me. I think I miss the anonymous computer chatting. And I promise to try a more normal service this time like Match or something. I’ll keep you posted if I find anyone interested in dating a blonde, scorpio, shampooer who likes long walks on the beach…