From the peanut gallery...

Yesterday, "Teleplay@aol.com" was kind enough to email me the following career advice:


TABU???? MAN THE 80'S ARE GONE...

GO AND CHANGE YOUR HAIR DOOO
YOU ARE SO FUCKING UGLY...

I BETTER PAY 350 TO MY GRANDMOTHER...
RETIRE...GO HOME FUCK...SO PATHETIC


I don't know how I was lucky enough to merit his attention, much less the style and career how-to's.... but I hope his grandmother is happy to get $350!

rolling merrily along,

Tabu

Larry, Moe and Curly in Motown

This week's episode: The three Stooges tackle Tabu.

(As our story unfolds, Tabu visits Detroit in search of f__ks and fortune. During her stay, she encounters our famous trio.)

Last-Minute Larry calls on the final afternoon of her tour, demanding that she jettison her previously-scheduled programming to accommodate his sudden need of her company. When Tabu politely refuses to trash her regular, Larry pouts and hangs up.

No-Info Moe takes the opposite tack, repeatedly writing to Tabu several weeks ahead of her visit, stating his desire to make an appointment. When requested to provide basic screening information, he responds very expeditiously-- with a fictitious name and cell number.

Squirrelly Curly enjoys making an advance appointment and then canceling, pleading a last-minute work commitment. He ever-so-gratefully accepts Tabu's offer of a new time... and then ever-so-conveniently forgets to show up.

Next week: Tabu wakes up from a bad dream to find that no one actually shot J.R.

If only it had been Walgreens.....

Have you noticed that the more exclamation marks someone uses, the more they appear to be writing directly from the Loony Bin? This proposal, apparently from a very excited individual, came in my email yesterday.

I was wondering if you were available tonight? I love watching a woman smoke! It really turns me on! I am very serious about seeing you! You look SO hot in your eros-miami ad!! Are you still available tonight? Again, I am very, very, very serious about seeing you TONIGHT!!!

Do you smoke in real life? If so, what brand? If you don't mind, could you show up smoking Virginia Slims 120's when you come to see me? That is a major fantasy for me!

I want to have a really good time! I will be back in Miami about every 3-4 weeks and I would love to have someone like you that I could see while I am here!

I have tried to find someone, but no-one is willing to do what I want...so...here's what I want to do! Could you meet me at the CVS on 88th Street in Kendall (I'll give you the address and directions if you are sure you want to see me)...dress very HOT and SEXY (really high heels and a very sexy dress)...and then follow me back to my hotel after we have gone shopping!

Here's what I can offer you!!!! I can pay you $450 cash...give you a $700 laptop...and take you on a shopping spree at CVS (you can buy mp3 player, tv, or whatever you want up to $300) and then back at my hotel you order champagne, beer and etc. from Room Service ($100).

Are you interested? If so, I will give you my phone number and we can hook up tonight!!!

Damn, it's tempting. A girl could score a lot of Crest on a gig like that.

Taking GFE one G too far!

Lately some of my fellows seem conveniently confused about the concept of GFE. I don't think it's that hard: They pass screening, present a tidy white envelope, and get a beautiful, gracious, sexy Tabu catering to their every naughty desire... smiling all the while.

Of course they'd like to have me for their real girlfriend. And of course, they'd like to dispense with the envelope. After a session or two, the manuevering begins to get me "off the clock."

Then there are my Match.com boys. They never pony up at all-- but try to entice me into providing those same delicious services without me noticing that the rent isn't getting paid.

Here's an email I recently received from one of these charmers... and my reply. (Note: Because he was busy sending this love-note out to hundreds of escorts, he couldn't even be bothered to put my name in the salutation. Or notice that I'm already IN Florida. Geesh.)

Hello, Pretty Woman!

I just wanted to tell you that you take my breath away. I'm sure you hear that alot in your business, but I mean it.

I'm a biomedical engineer in _____, Florida, and have my own business too. I just had to contact you as ever since I've seen your face (especially eyes) I know we have some kind of special connection. I don't know if you're married or anything. But, if you're not, and ever in Florida, please send me an email and I would be honored to take you out for a lovely dinner and walk along one of our wonderful beaches. I think we could end up becoming great friends - and that's something very special in the world today.

I don't know anything about your industry (except you're beautiful!) but if you would just like a new friend, I know there's just something about you that is wonderful.

I attached a pic of myself if you're interested in being friends (I've lost some weight since!)

Luv,

Tony

I'm sorry, but this seemingly innocuous letter really ticked your little vixen off. I don't believe a word of it-- or his professed innocence about the way escorts work. What I do know is that there may be some lonely working girl out there who falls for this line of bull, and gives it up for a while, just to have a "boyfriend." Even if he is a slimey conniver.

So given my feelings, I feel I really took it easy on him... and even gave his "innocence" the benefit of the doubt.

Dear Tony,

I feel that special connection, too! And for $350/hr, I'd love to explore it with you!

Let me know when you'll be in Miami!

purring,

Tabu

What a surprise. I never heard back.

My fantasy? Real clients.

I'm completely a fan of fantasy. I mean, what's better than spinning a sexy scenario in your mind? You can lovingly concoct every last detail, every nuance, the taboos, the timing, and ultimately, the explosive conclusion. For highly enjoyable "alone" time, fantasies really can't be beat.

Then, there are the people who get off on displaying their naughty fantasies to someone else... preferably someone who will appreciate it as a magnificent display of sexual imagination, I suppose. There's no real intention to carry it out-- they simply want a "Oooh, that's so bad!"

Well, guess where I come in.

This week I received another in my ongoing series of "Just Tell Me I'm Naughty" emails from prospective "clients" seeking my approval. They're all worded similarly: tell me what you think, is this too far out, blah blah blah. Unlike emails from real clients with a specific roleplay request, who actually want to book time with me for a sexy session, these are unmistakable both in their tone and their lack of supporting information (such as my booking form.)

Here, edited down from its original, mind-numbing length, is a sample.

I have this crazy fantasy of being humiliated by my wife being with another man... You still really love me, but I no longer satisfy you and you met someone else. This has started to come out by you being verbally abusive to me over time. You begin to tell me about your lover. I see your eyes darting around the bar as if you're looking for someone, but I see you definately are openly flirting.. It kinda of excites me too.. And that time you had me go down on you... Well, I knew you'd been with someone, but it was so exciting... My heart was pounding... I knew what I was tasting. So, once I started... After that, I'd secretly go into your hamper to pull out your dirty panties and I would relish its wetness. You've been suspicious of this for a while and now of course, I'm your "panty boy".... you begin to whisper in my ear..."Panty boy, I know you know that I'm f*cking other guys... You perv, you love it too don't you? You're pretty pathetic, knowing that I'm with others, but geez, smelling my wet panties after... god you're a wimp!" You sit on the bed and lean back, gently rubbing yourself through your jeans. "You know hon, I still care for you, and at that same time I think you're a pathetic wimp. Well, panty boy, it's out now... I"m going to f*ck who I want, when I want and you're going to keep paying the bills." "Look at your little cock panty boy... no wonder you can't do it anymore." You straddle me, here panty boy, use your tongue that's all your good for now.. You cum. etc etc etc

Sigh. What's sad is that this cuckold fantasy is quite common-- and enacting it wouldn't be difficult. But I'll bet you a thousand dollars that the writer will never come through with anything more concrete, like a booking... and if he does, I'll bet you another thousand that he'll cancel before it happens.

I've been down this little road too many times now to take him seriously, poor thing... so I had to write him the following response.

Dear John- I've discovered an interesting fact through my going-on-four-years of escorting. The more elaborate the scenario that someone presents, the less likely they are to actually book a session and show up. Isn't that odd?

Maybe they really just get off on the idea of a professional reading it and considering it, then responding how it turns her on.... or maybe it's all about writing it out for their own titillation.

Either way, I've learned that very few letters like yours end up in appointments. So if you're serious about enacting this roleplay, I'll merely ask you to get in touch with me, through my website booking form, a week prior to your visit. We can get all the details straight then.

Maybe he'll surprise me. That really would be fantastic.

The King of Wrong Thinking

I love a nice surprise, don't you? Pretty flowers, delivered to your workplace-- that ought to make any red-blooded American girl dizzy with glee. Except in this case, my "We've-never-met-but-aren't-you-impressed-with-my-thoughtfulness" suitor had it very wrong. Very wrong.

My Mistake #1: Since he were a first-time visitor, and from out of town, I trusted him with my confidential incall address (just the condo building, not the apt number, thank God) so he could Mapquest it ahead of time.

His Mistake #1: Without asking if it was welcome, appropriate, OK or even possible to have flowers delivered to me there, giving that address to a local florist and sending flowers to "Tabu" the day before our appointment.

General disaster #1: Getting a call on my "Tabu" phone from Joe Florist, asking loudly at my condo building entrance, "Hey is this TABU? What's the code for your apartment? Can you buzz me in, I've got flowers for you!"

Me, from 10 miles away in Ft Lauderdale: "WHAT?! Flowers? Where are you?"

He names my exact address. Me: (thinking) WTF?? "I'm sorry, but I'm nowhere near there right now."

Joe Florist:"Well, is there someone else I could leave them with? A neighbor? I can buzz someone from the intercom here..."

Me: "No! Can you just leave them by the door? Or take them back to the shop?"

Joe Florist: "Is there a manager's office I can leave them at? '

Me (thinking, oh, yes, I'll go identify myself as "Tabu" so I can retrieve them!) "No, please just take them back, maybe I can pick them up later."

Joe Florist: "Well, OK."

Now I catch my breath and think-- what if this whole thing was a set-up? LE could use the "flowers" routine as an excuse to get my apartment number, maybe spring a little surprise on me. So I Google Joe Florist and find the shop.

"Did you have a delivery for (my address) this morning?" I ask the polite girl who answers.

"Let me see," she replies. "Is this Tabu? Yes, I just got a call from my delivery man, he said he spoke with you and you seemed a little reluctant to to help him make the delivery."

I make an attempt to sound normal and say, "I'm sorry, I have to be very cautious because I rarely give out that address... I had a stalker and I'm very nervous when someone seems to be looking for me."

"Oh, I'm sorry," she replies, "we didn't know. Would like to pick them up later today? I can keep them for you here. "

"That would be great," I assure her. "Thank you very much. Oh, but before I let you go, can you tell me who sent these flowers? I wasn't expecting anything."

"Oh, no problem... let's see.. the card reads "Have a wonderful day, blah-blah, signed "Very Distinctive Nickname."

Ahhh. Mr. Distinctive Nickname- my client scheduled for the next morning. I look up the cell number he provided me and give the gent a call... fortunately for him, I get his voicemail.

"Um, Nickname, this Tabu. I know this going to sound very strange, because I can't imagine that you would do this-- but did you happen to send flowers to me today? I had a deliveryman looking all over for me at my incall address... and I don't live there, I try to keep a very low profile there, I'm only there when I have an appointment. Anyway, it made me a little crazy that it could have been LE, so can you please call me back and just let me know if it was you? They said the card was signed with someone whose nickname was very similar to yours."

And what a surprise. Maybe Nickname gave it a little thought before he arrived the next morning for his appointment... because he blithely denied being the sender.

"You must have another admirer," he remarks innocently.

Yes, I'm sure I do. But hopefully not as wrong-thinking as a certain someone who probably meant well, but clearly gave the gesture no thought whatsoever.

The upshot of all this.... I carried through like a pro and gave the fellow the best session I was capable of. But underneath, all I could think about was: you f--ked up, you were called on it, and instead of owning up like a man, and saying, gee, I'm sorry, I should have asked you if it was OK to put you in a very awkward position... you squirreled out of it and expected me to like it.

Well, you've got the wrong doormat, honey. I didn't berate the issue... I didn't tell him I knew he was lying.. I didn't do a lot of things I was tempted to do.

But when he grows up to be the "experienced hobbyist" he bragged about being, maybe he'll learn about a little something called discretion. And being a man. That's the kind of client I like best.

My time? 350. My name? Priceless.

As a hobbyist, how do you prove you're cool? In our pay-to-play world, the easy answer is the provider reference. You see a lady, you behave well, she vouches for you when your other ladies ask.

But here's the question. How much can you expect from a lady you saw one time?

Last week, I had 2 ladies contact me about "E." I saw "E" once, THREE YEARS AGO. I met him for one hour, we had an OK time, and I never saw or heard from him again.

Now, all of a sudden, I'm his best reference? I don't think so.

This is how I'd like to put the question to "E."

Let's say you go to a new bank for a personal loan. Naturally, they ask for a character reference. Would you give them the name of the mechanic who changed your oil three years ago? He should vouch for you, right? After all, you paid your bill and didn't hit him over the head with a monkey wrench.

Of course, you may have passed 50 bad checks and committed armed robbery in the meantime... but your pal from 3 years ago would have no way of knowing that, would he?

Gee, how convenient.

Honest, protocol-abiding hobbyists and providers understand that you establish credibility over time. I don't hesitate to vouch for the clients I have seen numerous times... and even those who I've seen less frequently. But don't cross my path once, spend three years never bothering to speak to me again and then expect me to put my good name out there for you.

Even though I call myself Tabu, my actions are straight-up. When ladies ask me for a reference, they're trusting me to be honest, to tell them exactly what I know, and to never knowingly recommend a unknown quantity. I've painstakingly built my reputation-- and it's worth a damn sight more than you could ever get from that loan.

Good guys and reasonable guys will never have a quarrel with me. Guys who want to use me-- sorry, I won't play. And that's something you can take to the bank.

Verrry Interesting Update!

Remember the infamous "Joe" who left his computer at home-- with my email on the screen for his wife to find? (See "Death by Escort" below....)

Well, here is his latest communication to me, in its entirety.

I want to apologize for the stupid e-mail I sent you. The excuse I gave you was a lie.

I had an attack of conscience which didn't allow me to go through with the appointment and was too stupid to just say so. I was ignorant of your position in the situation and for that I'm sorry. You will not hear from me again.

Well. sometimes people do stupid things, and sometimes they do the right thing. I'm still not thrilled with Joe's behavior... but at least he stepped up and admitted the truth.

I don't have to point out you, dear friends, all the lessons in this little episode... but I will make one request on behalf all of escorts everywhere. If you're mulling over whether the hobby is right for you, please, take all the time you need.

We'll be here when you decide.

Death by escort?

I rarely get upset, but this weekend I was stunned by a would-be client. After making an appointment and exchanging several emails about his desires, he canceled the day before the appointment. However, that's not the issue. This email is.

Sorry I haven't gotten back to you sooner, a day trip to NYC turned into the week. Worse than that, while I was gone, my wife discovered our e-mail traffic. Stupid me left w/o taking my laptop with me and also left it in standby. Long story short, when she opened it, your last e-mail was on the screen.

So, unfortunately, you will not be hearing from me for a while, but if things continue, you could hear a lot more from me in the not too distant future.

"Joe"

My reply:

Dear Joe:

If that was indeed what happened, you have been careless with more than your own behavior-- you have compromised my security as well. I don't need vengeful wives knowing my email and website.

There is more than one party at risk here. If you do hobby in the future, I would urge you to consider your actions a lot more thoughtfully.

Unfortunately, I won't be able to make your acquaintance at this point. I hope you understand why.

sincerely,

Tabu


If a client wants to get caught by his wife-- leaving hobby-related email on the screen of your computer at home?-- I really don't care. But don't use me or any other honest escort as the weapon of your self-destruction.

An escort's job is risky enough. Cops, stalkers, thieves, rapists-- they're all among the lovely folks we have to guard against. But when self-absorbed clients add themselves to the list...

When I hear a woman's voice on my phone today or next week, I want it to be another escort, calling for a reference. Not Mrs. Joe.

This weekend, I had to remind myself that my smart and discreet clients are the joy of my working life. Now, if you could only educate the rest of them.

**********************************************************************************

FOLLOWUP: After I posted this on the The Erotic Review, one gent had this to say in response:

The guy made a mistake, what do you want? It will almost certainly hurt him more than it will you. Don't use e-mail then. There's somebody pretty self-absorbed here, but it isn't Mr. Joe.

My reply:

You're absolutely right, Bob-- I AM self-absorbed... especially when it comes to my personal safety and peace of mind.

One of the reasons I was particularly upset by this occurrence-- not the first one, mind you-- is that in this fellow's blithe little note, he showed NO remorse and NO recognition that he put me at risk as well as himself.

And this is where you come in. But because some people can't be trusted to use the brains God gave them, you suggest I should give up using email.

I guess notebook paper is out as well-- last year, I had a wife call me and threaten to spray-paint "Whore" on my front door-- after she found directions to my incall in her husband's pants pocket.

So let's see-- I guess that leaves the phone as a safe option. Unless you count the fellow who recently left a message for me to call him right back... and when I did, his wife answered. Yes, he was at home-- with wifey in the next room.

Until some clients start thinking defensively, I really don't think that escorts should be expected to give up all forms of normal communication to keep them safe.

Oh, wait-- I've got it... smoke signals! Maybe that would work. One puff for "Yes," two for "No," three for "I'm an idiot."

respectfully yours,

Tabu

Yes Men (Just Say NO!)

Lately I've been getting a lot of calls from fellows who sound utterly, perfectly nice. Naturally, I get all excited because I adore utterly, perfectly nice men (especially when they get naughty with me!)

So I say "Before we meet, I do need to know who you are and what you're looking for... so if you'll fill out the reservation form on my website, we'll be all set to go!"

"Oh, Yes, Tabu," they assure me. "No problem. I'll do it tonight and hope to hear from you tomorow."

Well, my astute reader, you have probably guessed how this little charade turns out.

No form. No reservation. No date. No lunch money.

It's enough to make a grown woman pout.

If you want to be Mr. Anonymous, join AA. Otherwise, don't Yes me.

Unless you mean it.

Bad Boys Don't Get Lucky!

You know what's amazing about the providers' safety network? When a guy acts like a jerk, word gets around faster than Oprah chasing an ice cream truck.

So for the "gentlemen" who like to:

• shortchange
• no show/no call
• play games
• offer fake references
  
• lie about their identity
• write or threaten false reviews
  
• stalk
• assault
• expose

or otherwise make it difficult for us ladies to maintain our otherwise lovely decorum....

well, don't be surprised if your only friend is Mr. Hand.

All money, no IQ ... don't let these voicemails happen to you!

When I get any of these messages, this is what I'm tempted to say. Instead, I just hit 7. (delete!)

"Hey, I'm in Room 2307 at the Beachside Marriot. Can you be here in 30 minutes?"

Sure, Officer Friendly... just let me grab my striped teddy.

I don't want my undies to clash with my jumpsuit.

"Yo, this is Mike. Call me back. "

Gee, I only know 17 "Mikes"-- shall I start with the As?

"Look, I'm at the Sheraton with my wife, but she's gone out shopping for a while. How soon can you get over here? I think she'll be gone for an hour or two."

Actually, I'd prefer not to meet your wife while I'm wearing my teddy.

"Tabu, this is Frank. You can call me Frank, or what all the girls call me-- "Energizer Bunny."

(uncontrollable laughter)

"Hey, you're not answering-- if you're not free, can you send another girl over here?"

Why, of course! I have one in every color. Just let me consult my Pimp-O-Dex!