TheGloss: What My 2 Hours With A Male Escort Taught Me

What My 2 Hours With A Male Escort Taught Me

18 days ago by  | 20 Comments | Share a Tip

The escort in question

Originally from the U.K. and now in L.A,  Falene is a freelance writer who specializes in entertainment, online aliases and all things pop culture. Check out some of her work here and her website here!

Being relatively young, attractive, but by no stretch of the imagination independently wealthy, I’m not sure what led me to the online male escort site “Cowboys4Angels.” It certainly wasn’t the name. Regardless, what started as an initial curiosity, quickly developed into a very interesting exchange with agency owner Garren James. Followed by me booking a date with one of his male escorts, for my own research purposes and the benefit of writing this article only. Of course. 

Thanks to the popularity of HBO’s Hung, Showtime’s Gigolos and the upcoming movie Bel Ami, there’s something very in vogue about gigolos at the moment. The male escort is no longer a sordid Ron Jeremy caricature, or teenage hustler cruising the corners and boulevards. Today’s more executive escort caters to Janes, not Johns.

Garren’s company is exclusively for the ladies, with a talent roster that boasts male models, trainers and amateur athletes. And if these elusive creatures really do exist, what can they reveal about a woman’s true desires – when she’s footing the bill? Beyond the sensationalism of late night chat shows, or online articles generally condemning escort agencies for being morally bankrupt and their discreet female clientele as desperate, there was very limited real insight available. Sure, I’m no hedge fund CEO, but am I the only ordinary gal slightly fascinated by all this?

Compared to a lot of international publications, the U.S. media hadn’t really bothered to elaborate about these women’s honest experiences. Was it cheesy, thrilling, silly, liberating, pleasantly surprising? Learn anything new about yourself? I guess the surviving contestants of the latest Bachelor‘s every waking thought was more relevant, because Lord knows watching those women publicly ridicule themselves for free – is much less desperate. Obviously.

So that’s how I found myself, on a Thursday afternoon waiting in my neighborhood cafe, for my very own “cowboy.” Anthony, was hand picked by Moi for his full lips, high cheekbones, swimmers build and piercing blue eyes. Jude Law du jour, you know, if Jude Law was a sultry brunette from Kentucky that got paid by the hour.

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