Diary of a sex worker – a day in the life during the pandemic

This isn’t a sexy post but it is about sex and being sexy, old men and young, and mostly the profound power of human decency.

The pandemic has been wreaking havoc with everyone’s mental health. I often find myself feeling like a small sailing craft being tossed around in turbulent waters, nearly capsizing at a moment’s notice without any way to prepare for it. Needless to say that my sex drive, sexuality and general interest in sex flickers on and off like a neon light struggling to stay lit after being turned on. Pleasure and humor are in short supply these days for many of us.

I work a part time job doing menial service work. “essential job” they call it. Wage slavery is what it really is but it has allowed me enough financial stability with a predictable (even if meager) financial income that I am not driven to take serious health risks because I have nothing else to sustain me and I am panicking. Besides this, it keeps me humble and in touch with the real world. In sex work, regardless of niche, it is very easy to lose a realistic perception of the world, and yourself but that is an entire, other conversation.

One of the jobs is physically demanding and requires lifting or carrying heavy boxes while navigating ladders or reaching overhead shelves. It doesn’t seem demanding when you see all these older men doing this job with ease and keeping pace with the boys half their age. After all, these older guys just look like old guys, complete with grey hair and beer paunch at the belly. But when you try to do the job yourself? You realize what and impressive feat of strength and agility it is to be over 50 and doing this job.

An object lesson on being a dirty old man vs a sexy, older man.

Recently, one of the older men there has taken an almost uncomfortably eager shine to me. He is one of those guys who is short on height and long on boldness when it comes to women. His interest in me is too overtly sexual and what he thinks is flirting, feels more like him approaching “dick first” when he is trying to get my attention. It is all grey area stuff. He is crude, coarse and vulgar by nature and design but he is old enough to know that he has to reign most of that in in a civilized setting. His idea of flirting is suggestive comments, dirty jokes, and constantly testing my boundaries, of which he has already interjected himself with entirely too much presumption already. Today, the physical contact has elevated to him walking past me specifically to brush against my breasts in his path. This was my breaking point because this hyper-sexual, boundary pushing is a complete turn off for me. If I were any more disgusted, I would spray vermin repellent at him if I could get away with it.

After this morning with the surreptitious molesting by brushing against my tits, the thought of being alone with him for any innocent reason makes me nauseous. The reason I haven’t cleaned his clock and reported him to human resources yet is because I can see he genuinely believes this is sexy, “inside joke”, provocative behavior that is intended as flattery. This means that multiple women throughout his history have encouraged this behavior by tolerance or invitation for more. I can’t imagine what kind of woman would find crude, course and vulgar with a “Hi, this is my dick and it would like to meet you!” approach as something flattering. What kind of attention starved woman finds this garbage behavior sexy or flattering? Please tell me so I can send him to her.

His words and behaviors suggest to me that he has a fantasy that I am the answer to all his under served kinky fantasies. I don’t know if it is ‘Yellow Fever’ or some kind of “she isn’t like the other prudes her age so she must be game for anything with anyone who shows interest!” but whatever it is, he is all “I wanna hump you, bunny” attitude. And remember, this is at work, not a social function, or in private.

I fucking hate it.

I need this work because it is stable and reliable during this pandemic. I also need the interaction with normal people, not other sex workers online. I have made it clear that this is not flattering or wanted behavior and he needs to dial it back because this is what adult women should be able to do. We aren’t victims if we can speak up for ourselves. He almost understands?

Me: Listen, I told you I am not in a really good place these days and this kind of stuff really bothers me…
Him: Boundaries! (he said happily) Hey, I get it. That’s good. I respect that. No problem.”

I don’t think he actually understands. Instead, I think he is just overly optimistic that he has a snowball’s chance in hell of getting in bed with me so he is at least trying to look like a good guy. But I have to work with him and I need this job, so diplomacy has now become the best strategy.

I will never have sex with this man and it is, literally, all his fault.

I will never even allow myself to be alone with him at this point. Want to turn me off so completely that I would shove a python snake up my snatch before I will let your dick get near it? Approach me with the presumption of intimacy you don’t have and be hyper-sexual, boundary testing and then act like it is supposed to be a compliment. I don’t tolerate this from men who are trying to give me money, I damn sure am not seeing this as a compliment from a dusty old midget who is trying to use me to fulfill his frustrated fantasy life, for free.

Fucking pandemic. I miss my life. It was just starting to get good.

Food scarcity, pride and things hidden in plain sight.

I have another co-worker who is a young, sensitive, sweet natured male.

Disappointment warning: nothing about this boy or my topical interest in him has anything to do with sex.

He is desperately poor and I am unsure what his home life is like but it has been intimated that it is really bad. The kind of bad that the few staff members who seem keyed into the reality he lives in, refuse to offer even the slightest detail to preserve his dignity with their silence about it.

Its a long explanation but there was a moment when he thought I was about to give him a hug and as I corrected our positions, I could feel his ribs. I could, literally, feel his ribs. You can’t see it but you can feel it under his uniform. He is skin and bones and the work he does is physically demanding and burns alot more calories than I think he is getting on a daily basis. He knows nothing about nutrition which is not surprising considering he is barely in his 20’s and not a gym rat but instead more likely a legacy generation of poverty.

I give him a ride home sometimes if he misses the bus and it is late or doesn’t have the money for it. Long walks to or from the nearest bus stop are normal out here in the suburbs unless you work and/or live near the route. These days, a scrawny Black kid walking alone in suburban areas in the evening is not safe so I give him a ride if he needs it and I am available. He only asks when he is really in a jam. He has alot of pride, or shame. I can’t tell which and I don’t pry.

I politely inquired about what he had eaten for dinner the night before to try and get an idea of how or how much he eats at home. A cup of noodles, he said cheerfully. Not much else was mentioned. He had a bowl of instant noodles after working a labor job that is incredibly strength and energy demanding. This isn’t normal and explains why he is so rail thin. I don’t have any memories of going hungry. I can’t imagine it. I don’t ever want to experience it.

The last ride I gave him, I also gave him a hand-me-down insulated lunch box and we talked about carbohydrates, proteins and fats and how challenging it can be to get the nutrition and calories you need when you are on a shoestring budget. I reminded him that “you don’t know what you don’t know until someone tells you”. I explained that rice is a staple in many countries outside the USA and rice for everyone else is the equivalent of bread for us. I offered him my old, much loved rice cooker. He accepted. I am going to teach him as best I can about how to have a calorie dense, nutritionally rich and healthy diet on a poor person’s budget. Beans, rice, frozen vegetables, good fats and all sorts of inexpensive protein options. I am calling it “teaching him bachelor survival cooking skills”. LOL

He would never say a word about how hungry he must be on a daily basis. My managers (both very compassionate and also, moms) keep their own version of a food pantry upstairs in our break room. It doesn’t mean anything until you need it or know someone who needs it. They’ll never announce that they need charity. Pride is one of the last things they have left, after all.

I am hoping this helps and he learns something he can take through life with him. Being poor wreaks havoc on a proper diet, especially if you grew up here with American parents on an standard American diet.

We’ll see. Helping him eat better is making my time in my own kitchen much more meaningful these days. And let’s not get this twisted. I am no saint or Mother Teresa.

I am just trying to fatten this kid up so I don’t feel so damn fat standing next to him. LOL

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Sensitive, nice guys and my unrequited lust.

Boy Scouts turn me on. (Well, actually Eagle Scouts turn me on. I prefer adults.) Momma’s boys. Good Catholic boys. Nerds. Nice guys. Shy guys. Sensitive guys. I love those guys who are gentle by nature and naughty by design. Self control in a man makes me gush like a geyser. Good old fashioned country boy manners and courtesy makes my ovaries thump like a marching band drum.

I also get so flummoxed and overwhelmed with longing that I can’t bring myself to approach them and show an interest because if they rejected my advances, I would be broken. Just shattered. My feelings like delicate china splintering and scattering across the floor in disappointment and embarrassment. The irony is that nice guys are usually shy guys too so we may never know how deep those waters run because neither one of us will feel confident enough to dare crossing the ravine.

And, OF COURSE, there is this beautiful, doe eyed, soft spoken, gentle, compassionate, nice guy at my job. He is humble, the epitome of decency, and is so placid and low key that he feels like human valium for frayed nerves. He completely lacks the swagger, bravado or overwhelming need to be admired you see in the usual suspects. You can easily imagine him contentedly reading a book in a quiet room somewhere, petting a cat or dog.

And naturally, I want to devour him like a tigress eating a meal. And, of course, I spend alot of time being professional, distant and completely invested in my tasks at hand so I don’t spend too much time hanging around and talking to him because (a) I don’t want to know he has a partner (b) I don’t trust myself to not stare at him like a school girl with a crush (c) I also don’t trust myself to show any self control and NOT drag him off to a locked room and ravage him in unbridled lust and finally (c) I can’t/won’t date co-workers for obvious reasons so getting reasons to like him MORE is just self induced torture.

But good god, all the things that typical women would sniff their noses at in boredom….. and I am ready to open up the steamer trunk of sex, kink and kisses with the slightest invitation.

Did I mention that we are in the middle of a pandemic and I am so damn touch deprived I am climbing the walls? Did I mention I haven’t had a hot, sexy, play session with a nice guy/patron since…. oh I don’t know… before February?! Did I mention how much I miss kissing and cuddling???? That’s right, all that and, meanwhile – I go to work every day and look at someone I can’t have that makes my panties wet because he is exactly the kind of guy who isn’t coarse, crude or vulgar but genuinely sweet, nice and humble and healthy in that non-smoking, clean living sort of way.

Fucking pandemic. My tits hurt like a lactating mother needing to express breast milk they are so neglected. If YOU are one of those nice, understated guys instead of a knuckle dragger, now you know what kind of woman you are driving crazy with your presence. Since you cant offer yoruself to her, you should offer yourself to me instead and we can both get this out of our system as a public service to everyone else around us.

And there you go. A day in my life this week during the pandemic.