Reluctant Geisha

Seriously, your grandmother can read this and not be embarrassed. It's not -exactly- what you think it is.

Attitude Adjustment 101 or “The Burger Whore” 09:01:2007

Mood: Awake
Music: Movin’ On – Elliott Yamin
Notes: None that I can think of, except comment, biznoches! LOL

Belladonna posted a video blog on her myspace about her herpes scare and STD’s in the “adult film” community (which is a fancy word for porno). On a side note… in her blog, she actually says that 99% of the adult actors and actresses in the industry have herpes. is that a good reason to get into porno? I don’t really think so. These are the types of things that make people dislike me, but the truth is, this is one very good example of why I hate porn. I used to watch a lot of it, but I just don’t anymore. I don’t like a lot of things that happen to people who get addicted to it, and I hate what it does to the people who do it, but this right here? Reason enough for me to tell people to stay out of porn. If you feel like continuing to read, please do so: <gestures for continuing>

Owen Wilson is on the cover of People Magazine this week. I do hope he’s okay. Haven’t heard anymore about Juanita Bynum, but if any of you have any news, please let me know. I just received some raw Shea butter in the mail this week (big BIG shout out to my girl Ina who sent it to me!), and I’m excited about making my own Shea Butter/Vitamin E/Cocoa Butter/ Olive Oil exfoliate, along with some lotion and maybe a deep conditioner – minus the Cocoa butter. I wanted to write about so many more things today, but these blogs are long enough as it is, so next time, I promise there will be different subjects! Yes, I’m listening to Elliott Yamin again. Why does his name have two T’s in it? Was that a marketing ploy? I hope not, because it was a bad one. No joke. I have to consciously remind myself to put the extra T in his name when I type it. That’s just dumb. Unless it’s his real first name, and then it’s awesome! No joke, it’s awesome.

So this past few days, I’ve been alternating between the gym, my job, and my family. It’s been a really rough time for my family as of late. We’ve had a few deaths, and a few huge accidents [immediate and extended], and I’ve just… needed to be there. Cooler heads and such, as they say.

But more than that, what’s been on my mind is my performance at work, my attitude at work, and the resulting lower amounts on my paychecks because of it. So I guess this is the time where we talk about the sliding scale, but not really in depth. Why? Because it’s boring. <shrug> I’m not gonna lie to you, it’s just boring. So, rather than talk about it here, I’ll wait and talk about it in another entry sometime in the future.

Anyway——————– on to how people get paid. I won’t tell you how my company pays me, because then it would be easy for people to find out where I work, and because:
A. The opinions here are solely mine and not the opinions of my employer, and
B. I can’t afford to get fired or some other result of my words.

So, for the second time, on to how people get paid. Some companies pay their operators by the hour, and some pay by the minutes in which an operator is actively talking. Either way, most of the time, an operator is going to make nearly the same amount of money. How? Because of one great equalizer: The sliding scale. It’s like commission, but you moan for it. <nods> So, all that being said, the past few weeks I’ve been sliding lower and lower on the scale, which means making less and less money. I can’t do that, at all, so I decided today to adjust my attitude. Which is how today’s entry came to be alive.

I can hear people already, “How can your attitude be bad? All you have to do is talk dirty!”

To that, I say a hearty,

The thing about it is, let’s say you have this job, where people come in to get food. A fast food joint even [stick with me, I swear this analogy will work. I hope.], but a fast food joint that pays $20.00 an hour. So it’s great and good, and for your first 6 months, you don’t care that every person who comes in orders the same thing, they have bad attitudes, they’re ridiculously bad communicators, and sometimes they even yell at you. In fact, a lot of them yell… loudly. Now, for the first 6 months, it’s freaking great, you’re working 40 hours a week, you do whatever you want, and you can’t smell the grease anymore ( I’ll explain that part of the analogy another day).

The catch is that to receive your $20.00 an hour, your customers have to stay at the counter ordering for an average of say… 35 minutes. When they walk away with their food, you don’t get paid for that time anymore. You only get paid if you have an average counter time of 35 minutes. You can do it, and even sometimes, your customers stay at the counter for an hour! They like you, and return often just to sit at your counter and order for an hour! You’re good at it, you know it, and your boss knows it.

But, 8 years has passed now, and you’re still doing it. You’re 26 years old, your friends are all professionals with families and regular jobs, and you’re still putting on your cheesy uniform with that stupid ball cap and going to serve people greasy food for 10 hours straight. Now, granted, you make more money than 98% of your friends, but they don’t smell like french fries after work.

8 years has passed, and every day, to every customer you say, “Hi, how can I help you?”

Your eatery only serves one dinner: burger and fries with a soda. Only three different types of sodas are served, and that’s really the only choice your customers have, but you still have to talk to them like they have a choice to make. You know before they say it that they want a burger, fries, and most likely a soda. Maybe water if they’re freaky, but mostly soda. You have to act like you don’t know what they’re going to order, so you stand there, like an idiot, while they hem and haw until they get down to business and order the hamburger. You have to look at them everyday, all of them, one after the other. They yell at you, abuse you, call you names, act like they are better than you because you’re serving them burgers, and some of them even tell you that. Some of your customers even call you a burger whore.

<LAUGH> …burger whore… That’s funny.

Anyway, I digress. Think about it, if you had this conversation 50 times a day for 8 years:

You: Hi! It’s great to see you! How can I help you! I’m really excited!
Them: Uhhhnmmmmmmmha… let me think, what do you have?
You: I’m so glad you asked! We have a burger and fries, with a drink for $5.00! What would you like?
Them: Uhhhhhhhnmmmmmheh… What’s on the burger?
You: I’m so excited to tell you! Lettuce, pickles, mayo, and a tomato slice are on the burger! I’m happy you’re ordering here!
Them: Uhhhhhhnnnnmmmmhoh… I guess I’ll have…. a… uhhhhnnmmmhaho… a… u h m m m n n n j aj ha he… a… o maybe I’ll take the… uhhhnnmmm well… What do you have to drink?

And the conversation goes on from there. At the time the drink is asked for, you may delineate from your script, but until that moment, you really need to say the same thing, because your customers are all going to ask for the same thing. So 50 times a day (give or take a day here or there) for 8 years, you have that exact conversation. Are you going to have a great attitude? All 365 days of each of those 8 years, are you going to be ” so excited!” to help everyone who comes into your food joint? Probably not.

But then, the question pretty much asks itself: Don’t each of those people deserve you to act like you haven’t had that same conversation with everyone else? I mean, each individual person, unless they’ve come in before (which does happen), hasn’t had that conversation with you. So shouldn’t you then adjust your attitude so that your customers feel like they have been treated well? Of course you should! That doesn’t mean you will though, because you’re a person too. People fail sometimes, it’s what makes us human, you know?

I haven’t included a synopsis of what would happen with the customer who runs in the door like someone is killing him and says, “You burger whore! Give me a meal!”

I also declined to include a synopsis of what happens with the customers who come in the door with their own sack lunch and start eating on your counter while looking at you and never buying -or even saying- anything.

So I consciously adjusted my attitude today, and every single customer who came in spent 30 to 45 minutes ‘ordering’, which is a great thing for me. But also an eye opener: Today has been pretty much the most grueling day I’ve ever had on the lines. Keeping my attitude and my mouth in check when every single person says the same thing is difficult for me. The stupid, cheesy come-on lines, the ridiculous, clumsy misplaced anger, the abuse and name calling, all that… it’s difficult for me not to say, “You don’t have a wife, you’re whispering because you want me to think you have a wife you’re hiding from, you really just want to justify the fact that you have to call here to be satisfied sexually, you loser.”

Okay, maybe not that, but something like that. I had a guy call me a few days ago, whispering like… no joke… whispering like white text on a light gray background. I couldn’t hear him, but most of the time, when guys are asked to speak up they will just hang up the phone, as opposed to talking at a volume that is audible for human beings. So I asked (which is also a risky thing to do) why he was whispering. He then told me his wife was asleep next to him, and he thought it would be hot to call me while she slept.

By the way: Trust me that this is not a one-in-a-million conversation. I would be willing to bet money that if a person surveyed every phone sex operator in America, 95% of them would say they have had a call like this before, and maybe 50% of the girls/guys who worked last night actually received a phone call like this too. I guarantee it. I’d bet real money, a substantial amount too. It’s so common for men and women who call to make up reasons for calling. Like fat women who go to fast food places to act like they are ordering for people who are ‘at home.’ Most likely, no one is at her house, and she’s going to eat all 4 of those big macs herself, but it makes her feel better to think that the kid giving her the food doesn’t think so. Truth is, he knows she’s going to eat all the food, he just doesn’t say it if he wants to keep his job.

I digress, back to what happened. For like an hour and a half, this man alternated between whispering to me and yelling at me to STFU (for real, yelled at me) while his “wife” was “asleep” next to him. In all reality, the wife in question was more likely a pet, and ‘laying beside’ him was probably code for ‘outside in the back yard,’ but whatever. At one point, he actually told me he was engaged in activities with her while she was sleeping.

uhm… hm. (that’s my code for yeah. right.)

He started screaming and yelling, grunting and things, telling me she was still asleep. I wonder why people even keep up with the charade sometimes, but they do. Without fail, every single one of them does, and will, regardless of what happens during said charade. Just the way it is, I guess. <shrugs> Now, normally, I would have said something like, “You don’t really have a wife do you?” And he would have either hung up on me (most common reaction), or reinforced the lie by doing something stupid like saying, “here listen to her breathe.” and breathing in the phone on his own like he was asleep (really does happen). But I didn’t do that, I’m adjusting my attitude. So I just acted like I believed it, and an hour and a half later, he finished and hung up on me. <LAUGHS>

I’ve had guys talk out loud to no one in a feminine voice to act like there is a girl in the room with them. I’ve had men call and act like women so that they can be the angry boyfriend who comes in and snatches the phone and starts abusing me for turning his girlfriend into a lesbian, thusly forcing him to assault me sexually in order to turn me into a hetero woman. I mean, the list of craziness really never stops, but the point is, none of them have been at my counter before, and I have to act like that, even though, in truth, they’ve all been at my counter before… in one form or another.

Love you all,

Geisha

 

I’m Quitting… 08:30:2007

Mood: Thinking
Listening To: Timbaland f. Keri Hilson – The Way I R
Notes:
If you’re offended, leave it in the comments, not my email inbox.  Thank you in advance.

So I wish I knew how to embed youtube videos in my blog, because I find the oddest, funniest, and coolest videos that I have no idea how to show except to link you the way I did with the  song above.   But for now, I’ll be satisfied with linking you.  It’s better than nothing, right?  I hope so.

I’ve been surfing the web tonight, and I’d like to give you guys some more links to check out, from people who were also in the adult industry, in many different forms.  Strippers like JCs Girls, hookers like Annie Lebert, even porn addicts like XXX Church.  It’s all really interesting to me, because for an industry that touts helping people accept their sexuality, on top of earning billions of dollars a year, so many people are coming out to say that it was killing them.  Makes a person wonder, no?

Oh, make no mistake, I’m not here to preach… not in the slightest way.  I think I don’t really have a lot to say about it, because I’m still in the life, and have been for a long while.  Of course, those who are True Christiansâ„¢ will say I’m going to hell, and those who were Really Badâ„¢ will say because I’ve never sold my body for money that I’m not really included in the adult industry.  Phone sex operators are a weird bunch, really, caught in the middle of not good enough and not nearly bad enough to be included in any group.  It’s a weird caste system, the adult industry.  Oddly enough, just like the church.

Don’t get me wrong, I want to quit, badly.  I’ve wanted to quit for about 8 months now, for my own reasons… but the thing about it is really simple:  The electric company doesn’t listen to, “Jesus told me to quit my job.”

I’ve been told (and I’m not embellishing at all) by Christians and Ministers alike, “Just quit your job!  Who cares if your car is repossessed? God will provide for you!  Who cares if you can’t pay your rent, at least you’re not working in the industry anymore.”

Let me tell you something, that’s easy for you to say when you get a steady check every two weeks from your 9 to 5, and all your bills are paid.  It’s really easy to tell someone else to  screw up their life and credit, in the monetary sense, and quit a job with nothing else on the horizon.  How do I look, needing 3 grand a month to survive, and quitting my job to go work at McDonald’s for $800.00 a month?  I’ve had people say, “Just ask your parents for the money!”

“Okay, dummy, why don’t I do that,” I want to say, “and while I’m at it, why don’t I just subtract 14 years off my age so I can be in junior high school again?”

  On top of that, because it is super cool not to care about anyone else’s financial situation as long as your own is covered… super cool.

I’m not saying God doesn’t provide, don’t get me wrong.  I am saying that everyone’s situation isn’t the same.  Maybe his plan for me is to work and transition myself out, like I am doing.  I’m quite sure his plan isn’t for me and everyone around me to go broke while trying to keep up with my bills and obligations.  I’m quite sure of that one.

I mean… man… we’ve all got a story, and although they sometimes sound alike, they are all different, because we are all different.  So let me do this my way, and please, for God’s sake, don’t send me another email or message on myspace telling me about how I’m going to hell.  I can’t tell you anything about how this is gonna work out, but I can tell you for sure, one thing that isn’t going to happen is me going to hell.  Thank you for your love and concern though, seriously.

The adult industry is one, that oddly enough, usually provides a person just enough to get by, seriously.  Don’t ever let anyone play you and tell you that it’s easy to get rich off of it, because it isn’t easy.  Not by a long shot.  For example, if you go on the right places in places like Craiglist, you can find ads that companies post, saying things like, “Make up to $4,000.00 a month!  Work at home, simple, easy adult chat line, looking for talkative women with great personalities!  Call [number] and leave a message!

Let me tell you something, seriously (and sometime I will really break it down and prove it to you, but for now…) there is no way anyone is going to make $4,000.00 in a month working a phone sex line.  The truth is, unless you’re a pretty high profile adult model or porn star, you’re not making that kind of money either.  Hookers, unless they are “call girls” (which is just a pretty name for girls who charge more because they have all their teeth and great bodies) , even have a difficult time making that type of money.

I’ll tell you who’s making that money and above though – A pimp.  You can call it whatever the heck you want to call it, I call it pimping.  Whether it’s a big dude who will knock your teeth out when he wants to do so, or a huge company that takes more than 85% of the revenue you make for them while you whore your voice out, it doesn’t matter, it’s a pimp.    $24.00 an hour sounds like a lot, until you realise you’re making the company $300.00 an hour.

That is pimping.  Starving people by giving them a somewhat impressive salary, and hiding how much they are making you with every disgusting word they say… that is pimping.

By the way, any ladies here looking for advice on getting started, I’m just gonna tell you the truth:  Even if you do find a company that pays “up to $24 .00 an hour,” you’re not going to make it.   Just FYI.  I’m sure I’ll tell you why another day, just for now, know that you’re probably going to make $10.00 or less an hour, and most likely it will be less.  I also advise you, if you think you won’t care or that you don’t need to worry about it, you’ll just be one more in the line of silly women who are getting pimped.  Don’t make this your slogan:

I’m not angry anymore, I’m not bitter… I’m just putting the truth out there.  I’m tired of people lying.  Phone sex operators all over will tell you what a great gig it is, and the truth is, it’s not a great gig.  It’s disgusting, you’re treated like a cooch without a brain, they talk to you whatever little way they want to that day, say things that affect your sex drive and your normal life, and you get a paltry, piddly, penny-ante check to compensate you for your trouble. 

I’m quitting.  Not today, maybe not tomorrow, but trust, I won’t be doing this too much longer.

 

Questions For You: 08:29:2007

Yes, you.

Mood: Curious
Listening To: Alive – Celine Dion
Notes: I’d actually like answers to the questions I pose tonight, so if you have the cajones, comment or message me on myspace. All the links open in new windows, so enjoy them!

1. Why does everyone on I Can Has Cheezburger stop typing in plain english when they comment on a photo? Is it a requirement to comment in broken english and badly spelled words in order to place your stamp on their site? Seriously, it’s a cute photo, but I looked down the 20,000 comments and every. single. one. of them was written like a differently mentally abled cow wrote it- not a fat lady, an actual cow. Andy at MisanthropyToday wrote about it too, but for vastly different reasons than my own, I’m just here to ask why people lose the ability to spell when they visit the blog.

2. If you’re sore the day after the gym, should you still go? I’m getting conflicting pieces of advice. I’ve heard that yes you should go, because the muscles are damaged anyway, which helps you build them [which is not what I’m trying to do]. I’ve heard that no you should not go, and give yourself 48 hours to recover… or something. I wasn’t really listening closely to that piece of advice because I had a piece of pie in my throat.

I’m joking about the pie.

3. Owen Wilson attempted suicide? Why didn’t anyone tell me about it? I guess most people were too busy worrying about a suspected closet case beating his wife, speculating on her faith, and the amount of money they spent on a wedding to think about someone actually trying to quit life. I don’t know why that makes me so … ugh… but it does. So is he alright? Can anyone shed some light on what happened for me?

4. Why are people so happy that Juanita Bynum was attacked? This, above all (even more than the magic incantation on I Can Has Cheezburger which causes people to lose their grammatical control), shocks and saddens me. I can’t believe how many haters are out there! Women, mostly, talking about Juanita Bynum like a dog. Haters! Can anyone tell me when the population of haters outnumbered the number of real, down-to-earth folks? When did that happen? I mean, in my life, I have never seen people so open, and so ready to call someone fake and false, not knowing what’s in their heart… so ready to say she deserved it, who deserves to get beaten by a spouse? Can anyone tell me when the haters started procreating so aggressively? Katt Williams was right.

So those are my questions. I’m going to work in about two hours, so I’ll be back with another, lengthier blog about the perverts who call me and how much I feel sorry for them [or dislike them, depending upon my mood at the end of my shift].

Drop me a line and answer my questions if you’ve got the time!

– Geisha

 

Are You Really The Man, John-Boy? 08:24:2007

Mood: pensive… reflecting
Listening To: I Will Always Love You – Whitney Houston
Notes: Names are always changed to protect the not-so-innocent and my checkbook.

So there are a few things on my mind, but I don’t feel like making an outline… so I’ll just freestyle it like I do when performing in such luxurious venues as my bathroom as my alter-ego M.C. Chickn Biscuit. Today I found a partner in crime, MC BOO TEE, and we’ve decided that when we drop our first LP on wax it’ll be called Chickn N BOO TEE.

Sucka MCZ betta watch out! Break yo-self, FOO!

And… now that we’re done with that, back to me acting like I have some sense. A 7 year old kid told me I was immature today. Sadly, that made me feel great about myself, because I’m 28. She even called her mum on her brand new “RAZR wit tha K” phone and told her that she’d met (and I quote), “A really cool lady that acts like a kid from school.” Which then made me feel really bad because she’s in second grade.

I’m singing along with Whitney Houston at the top of my lungs, and I’m thinking about the caller presently known as John-Boy. That is nothing near his real name, but I had to talk with him for 40 minutes today, and I figure someone should benefit from our conversation, other than him of course. So while Whit sings about getting so emotional and being shocked, I’ll tell you about John-Boy. Chatty Chuck, I might even call him from time to time… Loquacious Lawrence, even. Talkative Terry… I mean good heavens, it’s rare for them to even want to tell a girl their names, he wanted me to know his blood type, last 4 of his social number, his mama’s name, and the best food she’d ever made for him.

I wanted to ask him why he didn’t just talk to his mama, because it seemed like they were close, but we can’t bring up the mamas… or the papas. Which is odd because I think it’s okay to talk about Puff Daddy… maybe because he’s shiny? Face it, ladies and gents, the brotha is glossy.

Back to Verbose Vincent, after telling me about his childhood dream of becoming an airplane pilot, he not-so-smoothly segued into “adult” subject matter, which is fine with me, because it’s what I deal with 110% of the time. I don’t mind guys who come in and chat a bit and then get to rubbing one out, it’s part of it. What I mind are losers who call and .. well… the conversation goes something like this:

The Geisha: Hello?
Random Guy #9382372: I want you to tell me how you’re going to [adult activity]
The Geisha: What?
Random Guy #9382372: I want you to tell me how you’re going to [adult activity] *moan*
The Geisha: Uhm… what’s your name?
Random Guy #9382372: YOU DON’T NEED TO WORRY ABOUT MY NAME, SLUT.
The Geisha: Okay… well, I’m… Vivian. What do you look like?
Random Guy #9382372: *click*

And that’s the end of that call. </fake happiness>

But John-Boy, he wasn’t like that all, in fact quite the opposite… so much so that I began to think he’d never called a line before (they all have to start somewhere), but if you’re seasoned at all in this, a girl quickly learns never to make a final decision about the caller until they hang up. I’m not joking.

For example, some guys will call and they’ll sound really down, like frighteningly down, tell you they have this big problem or some such nonsense. If I was dumb, I’d fall for it from time to time, because they sound so convincing that I believe they could win academy awards for the performance. So you play along, see if he really has a problem (.00001% of the time, this actually happens) or if he’s running some sort of crazy, weird, non-acceptance-of-my-own-sexual-fixations game (the rest of the time, this is what happens). They’ll cry, they’ll tell you they are suicidal, depressed, they drink a lot, take drugs, or whatever is on their list of reasons you should feel sorry enough for them to listen to some oddball story that they will wank it to, while you listen like the poor, stupid sap you are.

I remember once, a guy called me sobbing. He told me that his best friend had been assaulted sexually the day before this call he’d made to me. He was crying hysterically, talking about how he’d always loved her. This was the first time I met a Story Guy. I felt so bad for this man. He asked me if I’d ever been through it and I said yes I had, because I have been assaulted in the past. He asked me what had happened to me, told me if I felt like talking to him about it and telling him how he could support his friend… and for a minute I actually believed this dude… until I heard the tell-tale shortened breath of a man in the throes of “passion.”

This man was actually going to have me relive one of the most painful moments of my life so that he could rub one out to it. It was really at that moment that I realised lying was the best thing I could ever learn how to do. I have since then, never told a single person on a line anything true about myself. I’m not even a part of that crazy equation, only the made up girls who moan for them exist while I’m on the line.

But I digress: John-Boy is tonight’s spotlight star, and he definitely deserves it. I was truly thinking this guy was shy, maybe he’d never called before, maybe he’d never even been with a woman before, and didn’t know how to go about talking to one. So I was more gentle with him than I usually am with the usual abusive, lonely caller. Then it happened; John-Boy flipped on me. I mean… this cat flipped it upside down like Diana Ross sang about in that disco song.

All of a sudden he was saying, “Tell me I’m the man, whore.”

I actually said, “Okay. You’re the man, dude,” because I had no clue what was going on… at all.

Then… John-Boy did it… this mugafooka asked me to cheer for him. Like a cheerleader. He wanted me to jump up and down, and clap my hands while I said, “YOU’RE THE MAN, JOHN-BOY!” over and over… like a mantra.

He wanted me to cheer.

I have had some of the dumbest requests known to man in the time I’ve been a phone girl, but I have never had someone ask me to get my round ass up and cheer. This mofo asked me to do a cheer and say, “You’re the man.”

I wish I would have cheered for his ass. I wish I would have been dumb enough to stand up and jump up and down and cheer for him, for any amount of money. I mean, can you see that on the headlines? “Chunky Girl Shatters Entire Left Leg While Cheering For Sex Caller .

I think I must have mumbled the words, “You’re the man, John-Boy,” something like… 60 times before he finished his business. After he finished, he told me he was in love with me. <shaking head>

Yes, John-Boy, wherever you are tonight, you’re the man.
-geisha