Revista Organizações em Contexto (ROC) - Diretoria de Pesquisa e Pós-Graduação - Universidade Metodista de São Paulo - UMESP.
ISSN Versão Eletrônica 1982-8756
ISSN Versão Impressa 1809-1040 (2005-2008)
Este obra está licenciado com uma Licença Creative Commons Atribuição-NãoComercial 4.0 Internacional.
worker money
por Eulalia Mosby (30-07-2018)
"That is a lot," he said, and then he rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. I didn't hear from him again.
It often surprises people to hear that sex workers do a number of normal people activities, like working other jobs, studying, taking the bins out. We exist in actuality after our shifts end and the red light is flicked off; we have dinner with your families and shop at K-Mart and wait on hold with your online sites providers for what is like hours.
It's not common that the physical and emotional experiences we've at the job could be enough to replace with a possible not enough intimate connection within our lives outside of work; so most of us also date, with varied degrees of success.
A couple of months ago, I ended a connection with a man I had been seeing for almost two years. In private, he was a huge supporter of me working, but around his colleagues and friends his tune appeared to change. He would introduce me, but hesitate in describing our relationship; when he explained, "This is Kate..." the silence that hung in the space where, "...my girlfriend," should have already been weighed a tonne.
I don't genuinely believe that he personally had a trouble with me being truly a sex worker, but I really do genuinely believe that the likelihood of other people judging me – and then judging him for being with me – was enough to create him want to keep me a secret.
So I've recently downloaded some dating apps and put myself back on the proverbial market, but it's tough. Along with all the current usual questions one ponders before a romantic date (What do I wear? Where shall we go?) I find myself asking things like, "At what point do we've the talk?"
The talk where I clarify my job, re-explain my profession in the event my date didn't read my Bumble bio, forgot what it said, or – worse – thought it had been a joke. Do I tell him when girl4escort we meet, or before we say goodnight? Or do I throw it out at random over the length of the evening: "Wow, this wine is delicious. By the way, I'm a hooker. Pass the salt?"
The best dream scenario is that my date is supportive, and happy that I've found a distinct work that I enjoy and supports me financially. Unfortunately, this has only happened once – once! – so today, I find נערת ליווי נתניה that most responses fall approximately abject fascination and outright objectification.
Sometimes I end through to the receiving end of a lot of rapid-fire questions ("What's the weirdest thing you've ever done at the office? Perhaps you have had a celebrity client? Are the inventors all old and ugly? They're not, like, normal guys like me, are they?") which is better than horrified silence, but leaves me feeling like I've just been interviewed for an hour.
Other times, my date can barely contain their disgust, quizzing me over and once more about how exactly frequently I get my sexual health checks done and if I'm sure I'm not just a carrier of some mutant strain of gonorrhoea.
"That's all very well and good," one man said, over coffee, "But obviously in the event that you went with me, you'd have to obtain a real job. And you couldn't tell anyone we all know that you used to work." You ought to probably Google me before you get too attached to that idea, I wanted to sneer.
Needless to say, even the crudest distinct questioning is really a better case scenario compared to very real threat of violence that lots of sex workers face when speaking about their job. I have friends who've been followed home and stalked by men who couldn't understand why their date with a sex worker didn't end with a romp, and others who have had partners appear at their work in a spontaneous fit of jealousy, viciously demanding they empty their locker and return home together immediately.
And even that's better than the possibility of physical violence from an intimate partner. I once continued a romantic date with a person who invited me up to his bedroom, held me down as he initiated sex without a condom, and then read one of my own personal articles, about sex work, out loud to me as I lay silently alongside him.
Dating isn't simple for anyone. Even the act of getting to distil your complete person directly into a quick and snappy paragraph fit for a dating app will do to make anyone wish to throw up their hands and surrender to a life of solitude.
Still, I rely on love, and I am aware from past experiences that relationships – when they're good – are worth every struggle.
On the days when it's all a lot of, I find myself thankful for the simple, stress-free nature of transactional sex. One hour on the clock and a peck on the cheek to say a fond goodbye until the next time: if perhaps finding love was as simple.
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