Today, for instance, I was walking along Western Street in Brighton as I am doing an escort tour at the moment. I got a text from someone I was due to be seeing in the next hour, asking if I could send him a pic. I took a deep breath and summonsed all my patience to stand still in the bristling cold with people bumping into me, to text him my web address. There, he could knock himself out with pictures.
I then got about four text messages over the course of the half hour, pleading with me to send him pics because he couldn't get to them. By this I guess it is the fact that my site is not work safe.
What baffles me is, this guy knew I was out and about, on a busy high street. What was he expecting me to do?
I don't keep compromising photos on my phone. They are so easy to lose. Or have stolen. So not my thing at all.
After about the sixth message, by now offering to pay me more for the picture, by which time I was pretty certain that this text loving retard was not the kind of person I wanted to spend any time with, I sent him yet another text explaining that I don't have any pictures on my phone. Indeed, until recently, I did not even have a camera phone.
His response was that surely I must be dressed and ready for him now. Could I not take a picture of what I was wearing (he wanted me in a school girl's uniform with brown tights)? He was offering to pay £5 extra for the picture.
Considering how much of my last half hour had been interrupted by his text messages, he must have thought I was the bionic woman and Nigella Lawson rolled into one, able to walk home without getting run over while reading his desperate messages and once home, able to get washed and dressed with one hand.
This guy was a classic text book time-waster. He just strengthened my belief that there is a close genetic link between men that text, and wankers. I sent him a text saying that actually, after his third or fourth text, I'd given up on him being a genuine client and accepted another booking in lieu.
His response was: Fvck (sic) you then slag
I had expected no less of an IQ challenged picture collecting moron pretending he wanted to book an escort.
My response to him was quite a rude one. You would expect no less of a slag, surely? But if he reckons he was prepared to pay a slag for sex in a school girl's uniform, then what does that make him? The Hilton Metropole at Brighton really should tighten up it's screening procedures for staff recruitment. If he were a waiter, he'd be spitting in the soup (or worse) of the guests.
xxx
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