Money’s on the Dresser: Escorting, Porn and Promiscuity in Las Vegas by Christopher Daniels Page A
Authors: Christopher Daniels
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before dashing out. I stood up over the toilet and knew he had seen me. I started freaking out thinking, Oh my God. He’s going to kill me. I waited a few seconds, sat on the toilet and collapsed my face into my hands and whispered, “SHIT.” I didn’t know what to do. Patrick had clearly seen me snorting a line, but for some reason, he hadn’t acted like he knew what I was doing or who I was. Instead, he just had just given me a funny look and acted embarrassed for walking into the bathroom. Maybe he didn’t recognize me? I took a moment to calm down, snorted the last line, washed my hands, grabbed my drink, and walked out to face whatever was waiting for me outside the bathroom.
Patrick smiled at me and said, “Hey, I didn’t realize it was you in there.” He had come and left so quickly he must not have seen my face. He looked at me strangely and asked, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah... totally,” I sniffed nervously, still unsure if I was in the clear. He looked confused, almost as if he knew something was up, but he had no clue what was going on.
“Are you having fun?” I asked.
“Yeah, it’s OK. I think I’m ready to go soon.”
“OK, sure,” I responded.
He looked closer at me, and after a few seconds he asked, “Christopher, what’s under your nose?”
Shit. I was totally busted. I quickly wiped my nose and said, “Nothing, why?”
“That’s it!” he screamed. “Get your shit. We’re going home now!” As he stormed out the front door, I peeked in the bathroom mirror at my face and saw white powder in both nostrils and above my lips. I looked like a complete junkie and a total sweaty mess. I turned a ghostly shade of white, my knees became weak, and I felt sick to my stomach.
“Fuck,” I said, then cleaned myself up and ran after Patrick.
On the drive home, he broke up with me and told me I had to get out of the house. I packed a few bags silently, still completely fucked up and coked out. I had no idea where to go, so I went back to the Buffalo to see if my friends were still there. I met up with Brent and Jacob and told them everything that happened. Jacob took us back to his house, where we did line after line of coke, and I spent the entire time sobbing. They continued to console me as we snorted lines off a dinner plate until the wee hours of the morning.
Although Patrick had threatened before to break up with me, this time I knew it was over. I needed to move on and start a new life again, ending this dysfunctional codependent relationship cycle.
Chapter Four
Money, Travel and Sex
Clients and friends often ask me why I started escorting. One word: money. Any escort that tells you they do it for another reason is probably lying. Some claim they do it because they love sex so much and need it all the time. There’s probably some truth to that, but escorts are not banging guys that look like Richard Gere in the movie Pretty Woman , so it’s going to take a lot more than an overwhelming need for sex or being a sex addict to be working as an escort in this industry.
The reason I began was because I needed money and I needed it quick. When Patrick and I broke up, I was left in a position where I needed my own place to live. We had bought a house together a few years earlier, but the house was in his name.
It was 2009, and Las Vegas was in the middle of the housing crisis. Decent-sized homes in good condition were going for anywhere from $100,000 to $125, 000. I knew with my credit and job history that I could buy a condo or a small house. The monthly mortgage payments would be a lot cheaper than renting a place, but I needed to come up with a few thousand dollars for a down payment. I was still dancing in Jubilee at Bally’s Hotel, making a decent salary. My credit rating was good, but I did not have money lying around for a down payment or closing costs to purchase a home. Not only that, but I knew buying a home was going to require additional
Patrick smiled at me and said, “Hey, I didn’t realize it was you in there.” He had come and left so quickly he must not have seen my face. He looked at me strangely and asked, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah... totally,” I sniffed nervously, still unsure if I was in the clear. He looked confused, almost as if he knew something was up, but he had no clue what was going on.
“Are you having fun?” I asked.
“Yeah, it’s OK. I think I’m ready to go soon.”
“OK, sure,” I responded.
He looked closer at me, and after a few seconds he asked, “Christopher, what’s under your nose?”
Shit. I was totally busted. I quickly wiped my nose and said, “Nothing, why?”
“That’s it!” he screamed. “Get your shit. We’re going home now!” As he stormed out the front door, I peeked in the bathroom mirror at my face and saw white powder in both nostrils and above my lips. I looked like a complete junkie and a total sweaty mess. I turned a ghostly shade of white, my knees became weak, and I felt sick to my stomach.
“Fuck,” I said, then cleaned myself up and ran after Patrick.
On the drive home, he broke up with me and told me I had to get out of the house. I packed a few bags silently, still completely fucked up and coked out. I had no idea where to go, so I went back to the Buffalo to see if my friends were still there. I met up with Brent and Jacob and told them everything that happened. Jacob took us back to his house, where we did line after line of coke, and I spent the entire time sobbing. They continued to console me as we snorted lines off a dinner plate until the wee hours of the morning.
Although Patrick had threatened before to break up with me, this time I knew it was over. I needed to move on and start a new life again, ending this dysfunctional codependent relationship cycle.
Chapter Four
Money, Travel and Sex
Clients and friends often ask me why I started escorting. One word: money. Any escort that tells you they do it for another reason is probably lying. Some claim they do it because they love sex so much and need it all the time. There’s probably some truth to that, but escorts are not banging guys that look like Richard Gere in the movie Pretty Woman , so it’s going to take a lot more than an overwhelming need for sex or being a sex addict to be working as an escort in this industry.
The reason I began was because I needed money and I needed it quick. When Patrick and I broke up, I was left in a position where I needed my own place to live. We had bought a house together a few years earlier, but the house was in his name.
It was 2009, and Las Vegas was in the middle of the housing crisis. Decent-sized homes in good condition were going for anywhere from $100,000 to $125, 000. I knew with my credit and job history that I could buy a condo or a small house. The monthly mortgage payments would be a lot cheaper than renting a place, but I needed to come up with a few thousand dollars for a down payment. I was still dancing in Jubilee at Bally’s Hotel, making a decent salary. My credit rating was good, but I did not have money lying around for a down payment or closing costs to purchase a home. Not only that, but I knew buying a home was going to require additional
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