This incident happened this past summer. I was hesitant to blog this because it shows me in a bad light. But I started this blog as a way to talk freely about my work. I wanted a space where I could write about both the good times and the bad times. So here it is.

The call started off normal. The guy was a Just Another Caller type. He wanted a sexy voice, some vague domination and commands to jerk off. JAC types aren’t bad callers. In fact they are essential to my work. They are as interchangeable to me as I surely am to them. They tend to be boring calls but my knitting makes up for that. The only thing really bad about them is they don’t make for interesting blog posts. Thankfully I get enough interesting clients to make up for them.

JAC started annoying me within minutes of our call. He kept insisting that he wanted to do whatever I wanted to do. He only wanted to talk about what I wanted to talk about. I can’t stand this. We both know it’s not true. When callers say those things this is what I hear: I’m too embarrassed to tell you what my real fantasy is so I want you to play mind reader and find out.

Most of the time I ignore my annoyance and follow their lead. I guess what their fantasy is and pretend it’s mine. If they like it the call takes off; if they don’t I try again and again until they react positively to one of my fantasy suggestions. Normally this works pretty well.

I tried this tactic with JAC. He kept pushing back saying “No, what do you really want?” I could feel my blood starting to boil. Again and again I tried a “here’s what I want to do to you” fantasy. JAC kept insisting he only wanted to do things or talk about what I wanted.

I can remember the moment I snapped. It was as if something literally snapped inside me. “Ok JAC you want to know what I really want to talk about?” I said.

Actually I didn’t say that. I yelled it. The anger, stress, annoyance and tension billowed out of my mouth. The day he called had been a stressful one. I told JAC about the things I wanted to talk about:

My best friend was in the hospital. I couldn’t go see her because my car was getting repaired. (She’s ok now.) Mr. Radical was sick with a cold. Some extra expenses had come in and I had not been getting many calls. A knitting project was not working out and I had ripped out a complicated section several times. (This may seem minor to you but if you’re a knitter I know you’ll understand.) My dog had eaten my cat’s poo (again!) and now had diarrhea. The weather matched my mood. It was raining and gloomy and there was mud everywhere.

But I’ve worked under bad conditions before and not snapped. What made me lose it? I don’t know.

I finished my rant with a criticism of JAC. “Now that’s what I want to talk about but I don’t think that’s what you want to jerk off to. So what I would suggest JAC is that you tell me what turns you on so I can pretend I care and you can jerk yourself off.”

That’s not exactly what I said. If you insert random cuss words into the above statement you’ll get a better idea of what I told him. When I get pissed off I cuss a lot.

By the time I finished screaming at JAC I was gasping for air. I fell silent and tried to catch my breath. I was shaking with rage and had started tearing up. JAC was also silent. I realized the other line had been silent for awhile and wondered if he was still there.

A meek little voice finally spoke. “Well I was just calling to see how this worked…”

My bitch streak wasn’t over. I snapped back that I had already explained how it worked. At least I had stopped yelling?

He ummm’d and ahhh’d a bit and then said he had to go. I think I actually yelled “GOOD!” and hung up. I screamed “what an asshole” to my phone.

Then I started crying. I fell into my chair and just let the tears come. Somehow I had been standing during the call; I think I must have stood up while yelling.

Rage towards JAC morphed into OMG did I just lose my shit on a client?!?! What was I thinking? I grabbed my phone and turned it off. There was no way I was doing another call until I got a hold of myself. I cried out the rest of my rage and stress and tried to own up to what I had just done.

Later that night I turned my phone on again. I was extra nice to my clients as if that would make up for my treatment of JAC.

JAC never called back. I hope he never does. I’d be to embarrassed to have to explain myself to him.

I acted very unprofessionally. It’s like I went into super bitch mode and directly all my rage at JAC, as if he were the cause of all my troubles. If I had been honest with myself I would have realized I was in no condition to do calls. But often I love doing calls when life is stressful. It’s like I get to put my life on hold for the time I’m talking with a client.

Why was this time different? I think there were so many stress factors it just sent me over the edge. I can’t make it up to JAC. But this call taught me an important lesson. Don’t lose it on clients. Sounds so simple doesn’t it? Not for me apparently.

These days when I get a difficult call I check in with myself before giving any indication to the client. Am I up for this call? Is there anything I can do to change the tone of the call? If the client is really being an asshole is there something happy I can do while talking to him? This tactic has been working really well for me.

I’ve had many JAC types since this incident. The “whatever I want” response is still a pet peeve. Now when a guy says that I try to show compassion. Maybe they’re nervous. Maybe they’re scared I’ll freak out over their fetish. I play along, pretend their fetish is really mine and try to give them a good call.

It wasn’t easy to write this post because I have to admit what a bitch I was to JAC. I can’t make it up to him but I can check in with myself to make sure I don’t do it again to someone else.

Sex Work And Compassion Series
Sex Work And Compassion: Panty Tree
Sex Work and Compassion: Self Hating Client

Posted by Vixen in PSO Confessions