In 2012 I was to fly out to Europe for 6 months to do this travelling business other 21-year-olds were doing. As I was planning my trip, oo-la-la I will climb the Eifel tower, and then I will have a beer in Munich, PROST! Then I will be in Florence with an espresso, a gelato and my elbow hooked on a Italian lover, snippets of a thought distracted me.
What if I worked while I travelled?
I had about 101 reasons not to escort in Europe. When I thought about the logistics of working, my mind’s space was blank. I didn’t know where I could work, what was expected of me at what price, how safe it was or my advertising options. I knew quite literally nothing about escorting in Europe. I had no reason to work there. Except one.
I wanted to work.
Against my own good reasoning my fingers travelled my keyboard as I researched my options. My European thoughts faded into echoes and was replaced by a foreboding feeling swelling in the centre of my chest. I’ll just see what my options are, that’s all, I won’t jeopardise myself, I assured myself as I sent email after email to contacts. A part of me hoped all the emails would turn up to be dead ends. Another part didn’t. I waited.
I had no reason to work in Europe. I was concerned for my safety. The fear of the unknown and unfamiliar immobilised me. It was like I had a motherly voice in my head stressing that I was foolish and doomed. I tried to weigh up the possibility of running into the darker side of the industry or being caught by the police. I tried to convined myself that I couldn’t work, I couldn’t, I just couldn’t, it wasn’t possible.
Yet still, I wanted to work.
Emails were returned. Regardless of the knowledge recieved I couldn’t shrug off the fear that was simultaneously accompanied by the need for pursuit. I felt like I was putting myself in dangers way with no good reason except to quench my curiosity. And it wasn’t worth it, I decided in the end. But my thirst for experience nagged in me like an overzealous salesman at a door after seeing a flutter of the curtain. It was inevitable; I must’ve always known that I would find a way. I always do.
One of the avenues I was researching, agency work, ended up being the way. I had sent emails out to the top European agencies introducing myself with hopes they’d take me under their wing. A retired client of mine who frequented Europe for business connected me to my European agency who, upon his recommendation, took me in.
Fast forward and I’m at the doorsteps to a quaint German home about two hours out of a major city. I was greeted warmly to my first agency by middle-aged women, a timid dog and friendly cat. We chatted about business and I could sense that they trusted me immediately which put me to ease. I was very thorough about my expectations for screening and sending me to good clients. I had to trust that they would not ‘pimp’ me to just anyone and that I would be safe. They cooed me and I wooed them. It was then that I discovered an unsuspecting pride that I hadn’t experienced for years. I represented a company, a highly regarded agency and I took pride in being the best I could be – not for me, but for them – for the family. Sometimes you grow accustomed, comfortable even, to loneliness. It’s only when you’re reconnected with someone/something that you stop and realise: I’ve been alone for a very long, long time.
My European clients weren’t so different from my Australians. They were usually businessmen who wanted sex and companionship, addition to only an accent. I was flown from one end of Europe to the other, meeting gentlemen who’d take me into their arms and share with me their foreign lives. The main difference with the European clients is that they would book me for extended periods of time, often a whole day and night. In Australia it’s the opposite with probably 2 hours being the norm and the lady taking the expense to come to you (i.e. touring). Another major point of difference was that escorts in Europe strictly did outcalls. It didn’t take me long to assimilate.
I wanted to impress my new clientele and so I strove to be ‘the best’. Very quickly I learnt ‘the best’ was not something I could be upon sheer willpower. ‘The best’ in Europe were ladies who could do anal on demand. I couldn’t do anal on demand; I kept expecting a golden nugget to crash land into my bookings. But I wanted to be the best and so I put my head down, my bottom up and I learnt how to love anal. It wasn’t nearly as hard as I thought or as scary, it was pretty simple actually. The trick is persistence – as with anything. Nowadays, I know how to do it whenever I want. In fact, I sometimes prefer it over regular sex.
One of the more shocking differences were pricing (upon first glance). As one of the highest paid escorts in Europe I was paid less than I was in Australia. But this didn’t end up being nearly as worrying as I thought. The standard of living is considerably lower in Europe and bookings longer. In comparison to the hours I worked in Europe/Australia the money I ended up making met evenly. Australia is choppier with their bookings which results in lost time between bookings. Europe is more relaxed and I was paid to do work related things inside the booking rather than outside (maintenance things, not the physical labour). And the labour was different as well, less physical labour in Europe, more mental labour. So in the end it was basically the same.
Those are just the little differences. Easy things that anyone can pick up on. There other surprising things.
The ladies were different here. All the ladies in my agency were university educated, often lawyers, accountant or engineers. They were skilled professionals. They were breathtakingly beautiful. They were the nicest and most accommodating ladies. They were willing to do anything. I thought I was pretty good (not to toot my own horn) but next to them my major selling points were trampled. I stood next to them as a gawky, nerdy girl (was I back in high school?). My ‘Australianess’ meant that I was more laid back than the rest. As a personality, my quirkiness proved to be unique and refreshing in this culture setting. It was hard to stand out amongst such talent: lucky for me I stick out like a sore thumb sometimes (and not always for the right reasons).
The portfolio of the workers was easy to figure out. Those that were born in major industrial countries like Germany were university students looking to get more cash. The others, who were from poorer countries such as Czech Republic were the ones who were highly skilled and highly educated. The problem was that regardless of their education, there were no jobs in their home countries. The money they made from one booking was the equivalent of one month’s work at home. They were the hardest workers these girls, they would often drive up to 6 hours for a 4 hour booking. The money they earned would set them up for the rest of their lives in their home town. It was obvious to them that escorting was the best option.
The demeanour of the Eastern European girls had a distinctive aurora. They were sweet, nice, friendly, but most of all, they were ‘cool’. It was the word that instantly came to mind when I met a number of them. They were the ‘cool’ girls in the school yard, unaffected by anything or anyone, just sitting at the centre between left and right. They were not ‘cold’ (as some people seem to think). They smiled politely at humour, widened their eyes slightly at my experiences and their gestures were reciprocal by nature. They were taught by culture to keep their inner dialogue contained and to guard their emotions. I caught them off guard with my boisterous attitude, waving hands, loud laughs, expressive face and exaggerated gestures. They thought I was weird, bizarre really, and they would giggle shyly at my silliness. They were flippant; I was crazy. We made a good team.
When I explained to the ladies at my agency about how I worked in Australia, I could’ve sworn their jaws hit the floor. They were surprised (maybe disgusted) that I offered my services for such short periods of time. When I explained my touring schedule they were even more mortified. They likened my services to that of a brothel. Eventually, after reassuring them that this was ‘normal’ for an Australian escort, they came round but they still asserted that high-class escorts were supposed to be extended companions for gentlemen. I didn’t disagree, and although yes, I may see a higher volume of clients at home, they were not without their own vices. During my time there I saw a huge rise in ‘party bookings’ which is great fun but not completely free from its own dangers. Public perception dictates neither as right, I most certainly don’t think neither is wrong, but I saw no purpose in pretending one way of working was safer/cleaner.
The end game for the European girls is different. Essentially, we all work to economically secure our future but the method to do this differs. They were more interested in exclusive relationships, to be a girlfriend, wife or mistress. Girls were being booked for years and the client/worker love stories were common place. Not to say me or any other Australian girl wouldn’t want an exclusive relationship, I just don’t think we really consider it as a regular opportunity in our work. I guess the real difference is that my economic goals are harder to reach then theirs (compare the cost of a house in Melbourne to the cost of a house in Bulgaria). This might be why Australian girls are more interested in processing as many clients as they can.
Australia is not better than Europe and Europe is not better than Australia. They were different places with different working conditions. Some people would work easier in one place than the other. When it comes to ‘landing a guy’ or having more party bookings with men, the European scene would be better equipped and could possibly result in something more permanent. But not to forget, Europe is a lot more competitive as well. Coming from Australia to make money in Europe was not the smartest financial move to make. Obviously I did that because I was eager to collect my own scars. That’s just what us youth do sometimes.
This blog post that compares these different environments should be taken too seriously or factually. You must always remember when reading any piece from a working girl – we all work differently. I work at a certain tier in the industry – I never switched tiers, I only changed the context I worked under and my management. Another girl from another tier would have a different story to tell.
And you know what. If I was going to stay in Europe for an extended period of time once more, I definitely will be working again because it was an amazing experience with amazing clients.