Apparently, there’s a male student at Columbia University who moonlights as an escort for well-to-do women in New York City. Yes, I’m talking about the Ivy League Columbia University–the fourth most selective school in the nation, where nine current Nobel Prize winners are part of the faculty.
In an alluring, seemingly tell-all op-ed published last week in The Columbia Lion, an anonymous dude who The Lion claims to have verified, spilled some unbelievable details about his double life, where he’s Ivy League by day and an escort to some very wealthy, very lonely, likely kinky, and probably middle-aged women of New York City by night.
At first glance, I questioned whether this was just a creative writing assignment or if some weirdo was trying to pull one over on an editor for some reason. After reading this dude’s reflections, which almost seem worthy of a shrink’s file cabinet, I seriously don’t think these details could be made up–but maybe I’m wrong.
On more than a few occasions, I’ve been paid about $800 to sit in a room and pop balloons while a woman masturbates.
Wait, WHAT? That’s a nice paycheck and an extremely clownish fetish, at that.
It’s not the strangest request I’ve ever gotten, but it’s probably the easiest as far as regular clients go, if you ignore the jarring anxiety and probably permanent ear damage that comes with popping balloons for two hours.
I have plenty of escort friends who will proudly announce their line of work to anyone who listens, my girlfriend included, but I’m always a little paranoid of it getting back to my parents. They would probably be distraught to learn that the checks I send home are the products of dating women looking for affection and not the kind of hard work they sent me to school for.
Let me get this straight. This guy goes to an Ivy League school, he has a girlfriend, he likely has a very scholarly future ahead of him, and he regularly gets paid a decent sum of money to pop balloons while a girl (who is not his girlfriend) gets herself off for two hours?
Holy shit, I have so many questions.
I come from the kind of lower-middle-class, traditionally Catholic family that has ten million kids. As well as it pays, I’m not exactly looking for my baby siblings to dream of growing up and making it big as an escort.
But fuck it, if I can get paid $15,000 to spend a December week lounging on a beach in Tuscany instead of freezing my ass off in New York, I’m going to do it, while I’m still young enough to be hired for that sort of gig.
Of course, most of my dates are less glamorous. The most common is four hours for dinner and sex, which for me runs about $1200, plus the cost of dinner and a hotel room.
What. The. Fuck.
Did Tuscany and $15,000 actually happen, or is that some dream escort kind of gig? What the hell are all of us (speaking for the men in America who aren’t this guy) doing wrong?
Most of us bust our asses chasing tail from a restaurant where we pay for dinner back to the bedroom, hoping she doesn’t decide to act like a bitch that given night. But he knows women who pay him what seems fitting of a week’s salary to do the same exact thing? Tell me where to find these ladies.
The women that I usually get matched to are the kind who want to have sex but get really demure about it and ask to leave the lights off. The trick is to talk them into leaving the lights on and then spend the whole time telling them how great they look, even if it isn’t true. That’s how you get big tips and regulars.
Yeah, I’m not sure why women think it doesn’t count if the lights are off, because it totally does. I digress though. HE GETS PAID TO LIE TO WOMEN AND THEN FUCK THEM?!
Please tell me this guy’s studying political science. He’d make a great politician.
There’s plenty of different types of women willing and capable of shelling upwards of $1000 for male company, but considering I’m a Boyfriend Experience escort literally marketed to create the illusion of a romantic relationship, most of my clientele comprises neglected wives, divorced mothers, and shy women who have a hard time connecting, even though there are definitely exceptions.
Preying on the emotionally damaged. Classic.
A lot of my friends, on the other hand, are Pornstar Experience escorts, so they get a whole variety of women that usually have secret fetishes and expect crazy sex marathons. I tried that for a while, but the BFE money is better, and there’s only so many times you can let a woman have at you with a strapon before it starts feeling a little too gay4pay. (My limit is once.)
My boss has her own divisions: within BFE escorts, the most common are the Dreamy Bad Boys and the Prince Charmings. There’s also random giant lumberjack dudes and skinny nerds and everything in between, but mostly it’s the bad boys and princes.
I’m a Prince Charming; she tells me it’s because I remind middle-aged women of that popular guy they liked in high school, even though I rarely play sports and was definitely not That Guy in high school. But I guess it fits, one of my first dates was taking a girl who’d been dumped earlier that day to her senior prom when I was 19.
Jesus Christ, how far down the rabbit hole are you, bro? You have a pimpette.
At first, this all sounded kind of intriguing, but in the last three paragraphs, he just made me almost throw up in my mouth. Then I questioned what the fuck kind of parents send their 19-year-old daughter to her senior prom WITH A FUCKING ESCORT!
Unless, of course, said girl booked him herself for some kind of revenge tactic thing to ruin her ex’s prom night. If that’s the case, bravo to him for getting paid to be diabolical and mend a girl’s broken heart, I guess.
The weirdest clients are probably the ones who start getting their family and friends involved. My profile says the best dates are usually the ones where we go to a concert or a show, so one woman had me accompany her while she took her daughters to a Justin Bieber concert.
I think part of it was that she probably wanted that high school experience of fucking in the bathroom during a concert, but somehow it’s a little different when “Baby” is what’s playing over the speakers and you’re at Barclay’s, not the Bowery.
Girls literally pay him to have sex with them at exclusive concerts, and they bring their daughters along, too.
SO many questions.
What the hell does a mom tell her daughter in this situation? How fucking good looking are you, dude? Your girlfriend is seriously okay with all this? How the hell do you make time for your Ivy League classes? Was the Biebs good live?
I need to hear more.
Two weeks ago, a woman paid me to go to a dinner with her and pretend to be her shiny new boyfriend so she would feel less ashamed meeting with her ex-husband and his new girlfriend, and we spent an hour before the dinner coming up with our false relationship history. It’s not really a common request, but she was paying and I’m not picky.
When her husband finally arrived, I recognized one of my escort friends on his arm. I wish I could replicate her smirk. My partner and I tacitly agreed not to inform our clients. If we’re lucky, it’ll become a regular thing.
I really hope they don’t read this–he’d be fucked, figuratively.
Obviously, there’s a lot of US legality issues with escorting, though it’s usually advertised solely as a companionship service, and there are some escorts who don’t offer sex in order to protect themselves legally, but if you get signed to a good agency your ass should mostly be covered. Alternately, move to Nevada or somewhere in Europe.
There’s inevitably some major discrepancies, at least to me, between female and male escorting, but that’s because guys are apparently more likely to be skeevy as fuck. Who knew.
Ummm, I’m pretty sure everyone knows that, but thanks for the tips–I’m definitely considering giving this whole thing a spin. Sounds riveting, and it seems like a great way to fund a few extra rounds of golf every month.
Still though, his girlfriend doesn’t care?
It only doesn’t bother me that my girlfriend is an escort because she’s good at choosing what kinds of guys she’s okay with going on a date with and figuring out who’s probably a psychopath. Sometimes it’s pretty obvious. There was a guy who asked her if she was open to a “new and experimental sexual experience,” then kept going on about how clean and purebred his dogs are.
But otherwise, hey. The work is really inconsistent, but $15,000 to sunbathe in Tuscany, right?
Wow, it all makes sense now. At least his girlfriend can sleep with other guys regularly knowing they aren’t psychopaths or anything. Then he can take her on nice dates with all the money he rakes in slaying insecure, middle-aged women, that handsome, entrepreneurial devil!
Just imagine making bank by banging 45-year-old, despondent moms at Bieber concerts to pay your way through an Ivy League education!
Columbia University has to be proud of either his astute business sense or his remarkable imagination and ability to craft such captivating prose.
I’ll 100 percent believe this guy when I see pictures from Tuscany. It’s actually cold there in December.
[via The Columbia Lion]