Everything ran smoothly with the exception of the occasional wait for a shower. It was a regular conveyor belt of men.
Everyone always asks me, ‘What’s the biggest you have ever seen?’ My answer is never what they expect to hear. I recall this man arriving at our door one summer day. He must have been ninety-nine not out. He was shaped like a question mark, all hunched over, wearing the cutest little old man hat, which he immediately removed when I greeted him at the door. I invited him upstairs to my room and it must have taken him five minutes just to shuffle over to the staircase. As he reached the bottom of the staircase, the doorbell buzzed again with Louise’s client. She passed us making our way up the stairs. Every stair was tackled with herculean effort, at the slowest pace imaginable. I almost wanted to clap with every new step. About halfway up I saw Louise had finished her half-hour booking and was taking her client into the shower. My heart beats dollars; I was thinking to myself that in this last thirty minutes I could have taken $180. I was so pissed off but remained patient, polite and courteous, to this man who’d probably fought in Gallipoli he was so old. Louise passed us with her client, escorting him out while Eliza passed us with her next client.
All in all, it took us forty-five minutes to get up those stairs. I was thinking, This bastard better make it worth my time. Sure enough, he paid me the hourly rate, which I assumed would last about fifteen minutes, as he had already just about exerted himself to death on the staircase. By the time I had bounded down the stairs with my cash, informed the receptionist what time to knock for me and returned to the bedroom, the old man was already undressed.
Let’s refer to him now as Tripod. My first thought was, That thing won’t fit in a condom, I am going to have to Gladwrap it! Then I reassured myself that all would be OK, because at his age the likelihood of him being able to get an erection was just about nil. As I started to undress in front of him, I realised just how wrong I was—that thing was rising like the Goodyear blimp. I managed to stretch the extra large condom on to within a millimetre of its life. Tripod had turned into Benjamin Button, old on the outside but with the exuberance of a fifteen-year-old. I was biting that pillow for dear life!
When he asked me to get on top, I thought to myself, this must be exactly as Edmund Hillary felt when he had reached the peak of Everest. Far from the anticipated fifteen minutes, Tripod lasted a gargantuan thirty-five minutes. I showered, dressed, left him at the top of the stairs and took the rest of the day off. I was spent.
From then on, any man who rang up on the phone inquiring if I could handle big dicks, my response was always the same: ‘I charge per erect inch!’
33
Marketing and Giggles
Around 1995, I succumbed to the pressure and invested in a laptop. I wasn’t really sure it served any other use than sending really fast letters that didn’t require stamps. It didn’t take me long to see and hear all about personal web pages for promoting your products online. Well, I had a product and even better, I had half-a-dozen computer-savvy clients to help me set it all up. I know for a fact I was the first girl to promote a web page in the paper. Now there could be no lying or even stretching the truth about your description: ‘Hi, could you describe yourself for me?’ ‘No need, here’s my website address, have a look and call back to confirm a time.’