This September was the eighth anniversary of my becoming an escort. It was also when I went on my first tour that wasn’t for standup.
I didn’t see escorting as a long-term career. I was so public as a comic. When an early mentor suggested I build a simple website, I balked. I didn’t even have one for comedy.
I told myself that I wasn’t like the other escorts, the ones who were proud of it, the ones who tried. It was like when I was waitressing. I always wanted my tables to know that I was a writer or comic when they just wanted their eggs.
During the pandemic, I took a stand-up gig in Arizona. Did you know that feature acts make the same pay that they did in 1979? This place pays less. I hadn’t performed in so long outside of my desk. It’s such a rough transition to be telling jokes to a crowd on your computer and then suddenly be alone in your apartment.
But Arizona was open and just a six-hour drive. I booked my favorite hotel in Scottsdale and put up a visiting ad on Slixa to compensate for the money I’d be losing working. Every night, I went to work at the club for twenty-five dollars a set. I’d be there from five until midnight, missing the prime time for potential dates.
My last morning, I hadn’t made enough money to make it worth it. I got a booking request. The client sent his LinkedIn profile as a screenshot. I didn’t research this further. That’s when I let a man into my room who robbed me.
I couldn’t shake the feeling that it happened because my ad said visiting. I swore off trying to work while I was traveling.
When I left comedy and the recovery community due to an injury, which was discussed on When We’re Not Hustling, I tried the stay-at-home girlfriend industry, the weed industry, and the wellness industry, all in rapid succession. Then it hit me that I already have a career, I realized. There was nothing wrong with “those other escorts.” The ones who took their work seriously. I began to pay attention to and post more on Escort Twitter. There was nothing wrong with me, as an escort, taking my work seriously. It’s serious business to facilitate this much fun.
I visited New England in the spring following my injury. I never considered escorting in my home state out of fear of someone I know seeing my ad. Now, I didn’t care.
The worst thing did happen — a man I’d gone to prep school with found me. It wasn’t a big deal in reality. He was the same piece of crap he’d been when we were fourteen. My newfound community validated this, and I blocked and moved on.
The best thing also happened — I met a few great clients. One flew me back out in August, which I turned into a mini tour. That mini-tour made last August (2023) the best month I ever had in sex work, and all I did was do my FMTY weekend with a few days in Boston at the end.
When I decided to stop treating my primary income stream like a side hustle, I put more of myself into the work. Once I put more of myself into the work I met more people who liked that better than whatever half version I was doing before. As I engaged more and more with clients and companions on Twitter, I noticed that touring is super common now. They made it look like such an adventure.
Authenticity is important to me because I can’t be any other way. I’ll giggle, and my mask will slip. I am pretty disarming, but you have to want it. You have to want, me. It makes sense that by traveling, one has more of a chance to meet those people exactly. The ones who look at you like you are magic. The ones who see your magic.
I’ve always been low volume, which my rates have always reflected. It’s the most optimal way for me to show up in a way that leaves me feeling, well, almost holy.
Then my dog got sick—the companion of my entire adult life. I spent 15K to save him. They told me he’d get maybe another month. I LA’d the fuck out of his recovery. No chemo. Mushroom supplements, Chinese herbs, CBD, THC, and endless attention. I buy organic baby animal meat and cook it for him with turmeric and ginger. I give him back, in this way, a fraction of what he has given me.
But touring was off the table for the rest of his life.
Six months went by. Nine. My dog is stable, somehow. He doesn’t seem to have any clue he almost died.
Stable enough for me to go on another adventure. Boston, Connecticut, New York, and Raleigh.
I met more of you. The dates, that, when they are over, I know I’ve provided something undefinable. I like to imagine you leave me a tiny bit better. Sometimes, you leave me high.
I love using the skills I honed on tour for comedy for escorting. In comedy, I liked just one thing: being on stage. But as an escort, for me, there’s so much more to love. One-on-one connections are my favorite kind.
It was through escorting that I found the funds and freedom to travel. I found a new way to quench my wanderlust. I’m looking at cities within a three-hour flight from LAX for short tours over the next three months.
If you want to experience my warmth, wit, and je ne sais quoi, fill out my booking form or email me at DateAvivaRuse@proton.me.
