Gigolo
Just a Gigolo
My father once told me, “Son,” he said, “there are no ugly women – only homely ones.” Now that may seem a little harsh, but I think what he meant to say was, to a womaniser, there’s something beautiful in every woman alive. When it comes to being a gigolo, loving women is job requirement number one.
Fred advertises ‘a good time’ in the Sydney Morning Herald under the pseudonym Bluetongue. Bluetongue had an auspicious start in the industry. Five years ago he was playing blackjack in the Star City Casino. In a thick Blue Mountains accent, one that instantly elicits images of a phone conversation with ‘Mick Dundee’, he describes a fairly successful night at the tables where he met a pretty blonde. One thing led to another, and he found himself escorting her upstairs for a night of great sex. In the morning, she leans over to him and whispers, catlike, “can you do that all the time? Because I’m an escort, and you’re the best sex I’ve ever had.” Used to having men pay her $1000 an hour, she insisted she would easily pay him. “I just laughed,” says Fred. “One day I started getting all these phone calls, and I thought, what’s going on here. I had blokes ringing up for massages, and girls and that. I was hanging up on them. Then I heard from the girl at the Casino, and she asked me if I had been getting any phone calls? I said yeah, really strange ones. She said, ‘I put an ad in the paper for you saying what you did for me.’”
So Fred decided to give it a go, and now he has a regular parade of weekly clients, mostly unhappy married women, who pay him $125 an hour for the first visit, and $300 an hour thereafter. He makes around $4500 a week, tax free, servicing 15-16 women a week. According to Bluetongue, most of his clients are sexually frustrated. They don’t tell their lovers what they want in fear of bruising the fragile male ego. “He thinks he has to be the king, but he doesn’t fulfill what she wants. So they go somewhere else, just like a bloke.”
So after years of unfruitful, unsatisfying five minute missionary sessions, these women find everything they need in Bluetongue once a week. “I enjoy satisfying females. I could do oral sex on a female, which they love; I could that for an hour, hour and a half. That’s what they mainly call me back for, because I’m good at doing that.” He’s so good at it that some of his clients have even asked him to come teach their husbands how to do it properly.
Being an independent hustler, Bluetongue makes more than his agency counterparts, who might only make $600 a week servicing a dozen clients. But without the agency safety blanket, you have to look after your own back. “I’ve had blokes try to grab me,” he recounts, “they get a bit excited. I got into a fight once over it. Bloke didn’t want to take no for an answer. He hit me, so I hit him back and then grabbed me clothes and bolted. His wife chased me outside begging me to come back. I said, lady, you better go back inside ‘cause you got no clothes on. She had to go back inside, then she kept harassing me, ringing me up saying her husband wasn’t home. I said, lady, you knew the rules.”
Meanwhile in Melbourne, Bernie has been operating Global Escorts for around fifteen years now, with a wide variety of straight males working for him for the last ten years. His boys range from young ‘Aussie surfer’ types to dark Europeans to young men with pretty normal bodies, but all of them profess a great love for the female form…they love to please women; money is just sugar in the cream.
Bernie lists many reasons that women would go to an escort, besides the ‘too ugly’ angle, which every prostitute I have interviewed flatly denies. While there are the classic reasons like loneliness and shyness, more common are pragmatic problems. Women who have been in a relationship so long they have lost touch with courting; travellers and high-profile business women who can’t be seen leaning on a bar, or just well-coined hedonists who know exactly what they want.
“We get a lot of married women,” says Bernie, “and I suppose if I had to put a percentage on it, 30-40% of our female clients would be married women.”
The legality of prostitution in Australia, and modern perceptual changes mean that the image of a gigolo, and his clients, is quickly shifting. Today almost anyone can be found on either side of the fence, which can only mean we’re that much closer to an unconditional ceasefire in the war of the sexes, and the female orgasm finally has a safe harbour.
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