An American Escort in England gets asked a lot of questions. I have a basic FAQ page here, and in a series of blog posts I am going to expand upon some of them.
Q) Whereabouts in America Are You From?
A) Ohio, By Way of California.
American escorts in the UK are a bit of a novelty. This is THE most commonly-asked question of all. Pretty much every client who calls will ask me this as well as most people I meet in my day-to-day life. (At least in Manchester and Glasgow. In London, nobody really gives a shit that I am American.) So I have to explain to people where Ohio is. “Oh, it’s in the middle. On one of the Great Lakes.” Sometimes I get tired of the blank looks “Ohio” elicits and I will tell people that I am from California. Then their faces will brighten right up because everybody knows where that is.
Ohio is not a glamorous place. It’s mostly flat farmland with a couple of decent-sized industrial cities. I was born in Cincinnati, Ohio, which is particularly unremarkable. Sat on the Ohio River, it’s known primarily as the headquarters for Proctor & Gamble (where I used to work in the research and development labs.) Its main culinary delicacy is Cincinnati Chili, which is a watery chili con carne seasoned with spices like cinnamon and cumin ladled over plates of spaghetti and topped with very finely-grated American cheese, and then a selection of toppings (called “ways”) including diced onion and kidney beans. It may sound weird to you, but I would do unspeakable things for a plate of this right now:
But, you know, sometimes great things from unremarkable places. Ohio is the birthplace of:
Eight U.S. Presidents
Twenty-Four Astronauts – Including Neil Armstrong and John Glenn
I moved to San Francisco California just a couple of weeks after my 21st birthday. I lived in the Bay Area (with a brief stint in Los Angeles) for nine years. It was there that I got started in sexwork.
A girl I used to work with on a punk rock magazine was a dancer at a peep show called The Lusty Lady and she got me a job there. The Lusty Lady was completely women-owned and generally was a pretty cool place to work. I started out dancing in the main peep show – a mirrored room surrounded by shuttered windows with about three or four girls dancing. Men would put quarters into slots to watch for thirty seconds at a time. All the girls were punk rock chicks and all the male support staff were pretty cool. (They made a lot of extra cash picking up sticky quarters off the floor.) I’m a shit dancer but I like to talk so they put me into the Private Pleasures booth. This was a one-on-one thing that was sort of like a cross between phone sex and visiting someone in prison. The punter would put five dollars through a slot in the window and I would open the curtain and entertain him with dildos and dirty talk for three minutes. I got half the takings. I liked the lulls between clients when I would open the curtain separating me from the lobby and banter over the PA with guys walking past. “Come on in and see how much of this massive cock I can stuff into my pussy!”
An American Escort is born: It didn’t take me long to figure out that I could arrange something a little more profitable for the end of my shift – there was a hot tub spa down the street that would rent a private room with a bed and a hot tub for cheap thirty-minute sessions. Towards the end of a shift I’d suggest meeting for “the real thing” to a client. I remember the first time I did this, I asked another girl in the dressing room how much I should charge. I literally had no idea. “Don’t take less than a hundred dollars!” she said. I didn’t know if that was the local going rate but I liked the round number. I think I made about $100 per shift in the Private Pleasures booth and then I’d double it afterwards by seeing a punter at the spa.
I did this for a few months and then another friend suggested that I just whore full-time at one of the Berkeley Massage parlours. Berkeley was renowned for its parlours, tolerated by a liberal local government so long as they made somewhat of an effort to disguise what was really going on. And so I worked for several years at the legendary Golden Gypsy Massage on Telegraph Avenue. I looked online for a photo of the place but couldn’t find anything. It was finally shut down some years ago, which made me very sad when I learned of it.
The Golden Gypsy was awesome. It wasn’t anything like the parlours over here. Tommy, the owner, never got involved in our business. As far as he was concerned, we were doing massages and getting tips. The punters would pay a fee to the house for a “massage” and that basically got them the girl of their choice in a private room for a half hour or an hour. Once in the room, all negotiations were between the escort and the punter and she got to keep all of her money. We could charge whatever we wanted, although we girls did price fix among ourselves. It was a safe, fun, and easy place to work. All I had to do was show up and wait to get picked from the lineup. EVERYTHING was covered, then. Blow jobs were always with a condom. I can’t remember anyone going down on me – I don’t think anyone ever asked. We never even kissed – it just wasn’t done. The idea of the “girlfriend experience” was unheard of in those days. Now, I think it’s really weird when a client doesn’t want to kiss!
I still miss many of the women I worked with and wonder how they’re all doing. I managed to track one of them down about ten years ago, just before I moved to the UK. She told me that Tommy had died of liver failure and that Pat, an African American woman I worked with every Saturday for years, had died of a heart attack. I would give almost anything to find the rest of the girls and find out how they’re doing. I promise to write more about my time at the Golden Gypsy in the future. I had a lot of fun there and saw some bizarre things.
At some point along the line I started to attend classes at the City College of San Francisco. I did well and so was able to transfer to the University of California at Berkeley, conveniently located just a few blocks up the street from work. I would go to class all week, then on Friday nights go to the Golden Gypsy to work the night shift. I’d sleep there, get up early on Saturday, and work the day shift. After twenty-four hours, I’d walk out with my pockets stuffed with cash.
I graduated from university and then moved to Philadelphia, where I worked at the top of these very famous steps:
My life was quite a bit more tame and boring for a number of years. I moved to the UK in 2006 and three years ago I felt the pull back into working as an escort. I have been providing incalls in Manchester City Centre, as well as touring to other parts of Britain, including London, Glasgow, Oxford and other locations ever since.
(This is the personal website of mature manchester Escort KimberlyC, a tall American MILF providing incalls and outcalls in Manchester, as well as touring to provide incalls in London, Glasgow, and Oxford.)