Last Saturday around 11p, after getting my ass banged most of the day, I got a call from a potential client in Haverhill about my Backpage ad. He offered to double my travel rate of $125 if I could be there by 12m. I agreed. My first thought was how fortuitous the call was because I was just a few days away from counting change to buy things. My second thought was, "who are those other men I hear in the background?" When I asked him who was there, he said his mom and brothers. Okay, weird, but I trusted him to provide a discreet spot to make this happen. I quickly dressed, got permission to use my roomie's car (he was already in bed asleep), threw $40 in the gas tank (which does not go so far these days) and flew to Haverhill with less than 10 minutes to spare to earn my bonus. What I obviously didn't know at the time was that this guy had given me the wrong address and had no intention of hiring me.
I got to the door I was told to go to, which was on the backside of what seemed to be a multi-family. I called from the back door, but (thankfully) did not knock as I was instructed. He said he'd be right out. After about a minute and a half, my instincts were firing all over the place. I quickly got back to the car and drove home. I was ready to cry for a few reasons: 1) It was completely unnecessary to fuck with me like that and 2) I was banking on replacing the $40 I'd just spent and sorely needed. Rent day was that day and I was already behind from the previous month.
The next afternoon, I called him back and asked what the deal was for wasting my time like that. He laughed, along with the other guys in the background. When I heard their voices, I asked, "what are you all doing? Sitting around jerking and sucking each other off?" His response: "No. We're not a queer fairy faggot like you." "You called me. So what does that make you?" More yelling ensued. I threatened him and hung up. Later, I called a friend/client to ask for advice. Obviously, he told me that I could not spend my energy on this. And it was the way that he emphasized "this" that drove it home for me. He's an ex-acetic monk/religious dude who practices reiki and shares a similar spiritual view to me. I knew he was right. It just hurt and I didn't want to let it go. Not one to roll over for bullies and other numb skulls, I searched his phone number (no spaces or dashes), city and state and came up with this. I also discovered that a) his real address is 436 Washington St; b) his name is Jo/shua C*h*a*s*e; c) he has two children; and d) he lives with his mother Dar/lene.
So what to do with this information? One by one, I contacted any Backpage escorts who did outcalls to men, described my situation, gave each Jo/shua's details and strongly cautioned them not to take work from him. I also updated my online ad to reflect all of this guy's info. (I don't like to be fucked with.) Only two escorts responded. Both thanked me, but one actually claimed that Jo/shua had done the same to him. Only in his case, the escort spent $60. Believe me; I know how lucky I was. It was a much better deal for me to get yanked around like I did than to actually show up with a roomful of homophobes.
I want to fuck this little guy so bad. I've already initiated contact.
Twincest: How can I be down?
Info about Seattle's own Hump! Fest
