A Client's Diary: Learning to Ask Properly

I'm writing this down because I spent weeks overthinking it and I suspect other men do the same, and maybe it helps to see that it was simpler and kinder than I expected.

I'm thirty-eight. Two long relationships, both ended well enough, a job in IT, a flat in Marrickville with too many plants. For a long time I'd thought about booking a companion and talked myself out of it: embarrassment, worry about doing it wrong, worry about being a creep.

The reading

I did the thing I'd recommend to anyone: I read her whole profile. Twice. Her rates, her policies, what she offers and what she doesn't, how she likes to be contacted. She was very clear. It turns out that clarity is a gift, because it takes the guessing out.

My first draft of an email was awful. Overfamiliar, full of questions she'd already answered on the page. I deleted it. The second draft introduced myself, requested a date and a length of time, confirmed I'd read her terms and was happy to provide the screening details she asks for. That was all. She replied within the hour, warm and brisk.

The day

I showered twice, which is probably once too many. I arrived on time, not early, because her profile said so. I had the envelope ready so we didn't need to talk about money. She smiled when I handed it over first, and I later realised that small thing set a tone.

I was nervous and I said so. She said, "Good. Nervous means you care. We'll go at whatever pace feels right." We talked for a while. She asked what I was hoping for and actually listened to the answer. When something I mentioned wasn't something she does, she said so simply, with no awkwardness, and offered an alternative. I said that sounded great, because it did.

The rest is private. It was lovely, and I felt entirely like a guest rather than a customer.

What I learnt

• Read everything, then ask only what isn't already there.
• Respect the rules on the page. They exist for good reasons.
• Nerves are fine. Honesty about nerves is better.
• Say thank you. Mean it.

I walked home through the park afterwards with the late sun coming through the fig trees and felt, for the first time in a long while, like a person who knew how to be decent to someone and be treated decently in return.