These are our rituals.

I have a text inbox full of license plate numbers.

“Heading out with AK XYZ123”

“John Brown, OR ABC987”

“Going fishing with Bob, AK BIGDOG”

“Tom, NY ABC456, going to dinner”

We shouldn’t meet customers outside of the club, and mostly most of us don’t. It devalues the services we provide inside the club (unless we’re getting paid) and there’s always that off chance that he’s a serial killer.

But this has been a summer of OTC meetings. OTC stands for Outside The Club, but it also means dirty whore who must be fucking the customers. Partly it’s that the customers are all on vacation, and much more willing to pay the big bucks to have a beautiful woman hang out with them. Then there’s the fact that if you want to go on an expensive glacier tour or get flown out to a beautiful remote spot it’s always nicer not to pay for it yourself. Of course there’s always the water pump factor, too.

Once, in Anchorage, there was a man who took naive strippers and prostitutes (of course, we have to call them naive because that separates them from us and means it could never happen to us) out to see the glaciers and lakes and beautiful things in his airplane. When he landed the plane, he would turn them loose and hunt them. He killed fifteen before one escaped and went to the police. The police (of course) didn’t believe her and he killed at least one more before an FBI profiler zeroed in on him.

These things happen. They happen because of the way we raise men, and because of the way we confuse sex and violence. They happen disturbingly more often to women who work the streets and run down massage parlors than they happen to strippers and upscale escorts.

I know all this. I also know that an escort’s odds of being killed by a serial killer are lower than the general odds of someone getting killed in a car accident. It’s safer to fuck for money than it is to drive a car. (Really, I don’t have the reference, but I’m pretty sure I read that once). I know women with horrible judgment who never screen their clients who’ve been fucking for money for decades without being killed.

I also know that I have really good judgment. So sometimes I trade dances for a water pump swap, or get paid to go to dinner or out to the bar. We take these risks, and we text each other the guy’s plate number.


  1. That story of the Anchorage man was pretty bad. It reminded me of the Robert Pickton trial last February. While, I don’t know of this kind of experience personally, I find that street sex workers are not protected either against bad clients or their pimps (from what I see here in my neighbourhood, these ladies are too high on crack and can’t see the danger that they are in). There are probably millions of case like this in Toronto that are never reported. These women could be part of the lake as I speak.

    Makes you wonder what else the media won’t tell you.


  2. Violence against women is just a terrible reality of our lives – you strike me as having very good judgment, and I am sure you use all the tools at your disposal to keep as safe as possible.

    Are the guys you’re going on OTC dates with seeking a longer term relationship? Would you consider a such a relationship, and if so, under what conditions?

    (This is of course none of my business, and I will not be offended if you tell me so!)

    Personally, I don’t have the time for a relationship, but if I did, the person would have to be cool with my bisexuality and would have to be pretty damn independent!

  3. Goodness, violence towards whores isn’t any more rampant up here than it isn in the lower 48.

    Lizzy, I don’t really date any customers. I had the one water pump OTC meeting, and another time I ran into a group of customers from the night before at the laundromat. They asked me to go to dinner with them, I said I had to go to work, they said “what’s it gonna cost you to miss an hour of work? We’ll pay it.” So I went, but it wasn’t a date, it was just me being pretty and entertaining and a bit of a status symbol for them.

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