Kindle Notes & Highlights
“But I need your support!” she exclaimed. “I’ve got stage fright!
“I just want you to know,” Allison burbled emphatically. “ Two things. First, I think you should respect my choices. Every woman arrives at self-knowledge in her own way. And secondly, I realize this is not you talking—it’s your anger and pain talking.”
“I know you think this movement’s a waste of my time, but this is important to me. And I hope you’ll respect my feelings and honor our friendship enough to—”
“You’ve made a contribution to the NYCOT archives! The process of political involvement empowers us at the most personal level. It made you feel better. NYCOT has added something of value to your life. And you have added something of value to the sex workers’ movement.” “By taping your interview?”
“My Quito sticks are deep purple. I’ve made it through the induction phase.” Induction! Has Allie joined another cult?
“You had to bribe him with your company to get him to stop?”
When I agreed to be part of this blacklisting thing, nobody said anything about denying Jack his most basic human rights.” “His . . . what?” “Well, his right to be heard by another,” Allison explained in a soft reverent voice. “To have coffee with a friend! Or lunch.”
We are responsible for relieving countless headaches, for teaching men about safe sex. We are not just sexual healers. We are social healers. And yet we’re being persecuted. By the patriarchy!”
all because Allie was foolish enough to take money for services not rendered.
We’re a support group for sex workers at every stage of their sexual and political evolution. Not an outcall service.”
I mean, if there has to be a hookers’ movement, I’d rather be represented by a chick who waxes. Wouldn’t you?”
Could my two best friends be on the Atkins diet without my noticing? Could I be that self-centered?
But the new bra I ordered is all wrong! It’s filled with “lifelike” liquid cups that weigh so much I can feel my deltoids working when I try it on.
Your breasts must live up to the promise of the underwire.
The Irish are conspiring against the sex
life of the Jews.
sometimes think our long business relationship owes more to geography than he’ll ever admit.
I finessed my rejection
I was pretending to manipulate my clitoris. My finger was rubbing the spot where my outer lips begin to open, causing a more manageable sensation to travel through my smaller lips. With the workday just beginning, I didn’t want to overstimulate my nerve endings.
Poppers give me a headache! But you have to make a guy like Stan feel that his drugs are as welcome as his wallet.
Confronted by Allison’s towering boots, I felt like an erotic midget.
behind her and pretended to lick her. After a few minutes, Stan came over and knelt beside me. He was trying to figure out whether this oral display was for real, but he was too tactful to say that.
made a big point of manipulating the larger-than-life play-thing—eyeing it lasciviously, inserting it between Allison’s thighs. Allie was making so much noise that I wondered if I had accidentally shoved it inside of her. (We have a standing agreement:
just the tip, and only when absolutely necessary.) She used her hand to guide the oversized dildo to a safe harbor between her folds.
Allie, who couldn’t see what was happening behind her, figured it out through a combination of past experience and deduction.
Despite having declined multiple poppers, I had a major headache just from breathing the fumes. At $400 an hour, I couldn’t complain. I had exceeded my weekly quota—and I wasn’t the one with an entire living room to defume.
Once you’ve got a nice apartment, some decent clients, and enough time for a personal life, things get horribly complicated.
There must be a way to get some emotional support without getting my hands dirty. It’s the feelings, not the facts, that matter here.
Her entire attitude toward Allie is much warmer, ever since she discovered that they’re on the same diet.
Never one to argue about money, Milton is a haggler when it comes to setting a time.
They’re glad she has a friend who doesn’t look like a character on
Sex and the City.
And thanks to me, they’re less afraid of Manhattan. Less nosy.”
Is it mature to take so much pleasure in getting away with stuff? Shouldn’t I be outgrowing this streak of delinquency?
I traveled everywhere in our small town by myself and even knew how to get two fares out of one bus ticket.
These girls, dependent giants bred in the ’burbs, never went anywhere without a ride. They had no idea how uncool it was to be driven places by a parent because, apparently, they had their own code of coolness.
Vee? My bookish, dirty-minded childhood friend was now an eighth grader called Vee. I sauntered off to the bus stop, sadder but wiser. I was still hurt by the way she had dropped me two years ago. So efficiently! At eleven, she had grown sick of playing childish
sex games with a ten-year-old.
was sure I had put more thought into my appearance than they had.
I’ve never had an orgasm with him because I’m too conscious of what I’m doing. I can’t relax long enough to get turned on;
And yet Milton is the only client I feel possessive about.
he’s financially faithful—never asks for another girl’s phone number.
he’s a polished professional john, a gentleman.
But Milton, who doesn’t turn me on, gets what I won’t give others. For one thing, I don’t have to be as guarded. When a client turns you on, that’s when you have to walk the line. Milton is hard work, but he’s easy in other ways.
Men rightly fear the olfactory powers of their wives and girlfriends, so perfumes are forbidden at work.
“A round of French whores for the table.” I almost dropped my menu. Elspeth flashed a sly smile at her brother. “Oh, come on, Nancy.” Elspeth pushed her glass toward me. “Try this—it’s called a French whore and it’s delicious. Want one?”
Could I bump into my future brother-in-law while I’m working? Maybe Jason and I were late for . . . roughly the same reason.
But . . . what about my future husband? Is that what Matt will end up doing? I doubt he’s ever been to a hooker.
“We have to decide this together.” I blinked. He’s asking me how I think we should spend his hard-earned money? He’s never done that before. This is something my previous boyfriends never thought to do, never had to do.
My secret panic, the excitement, his nearness, his touch; the flood of emotions was overflowing elsewhere. I could feel myself getting damp. More than damp.
