Tales of The Unexpected
Time for something a little different. Today’s post is inspired by a client’s experience, which I share on my blog with full permissions and anonymity preserved. Prostitution is a tale as old as time itself, but what if you found out that you were dating one? How would you feel about being duped and would you be more than a little curious as to why you had been ‘targeted’ if you hadn’t met them whilst on the job (so to speak)? This raised all kinds of questions and curiosities for us to explore. In my mind I wondered if there any signs that were ignored? By all means jump into relationships with both feet and your heart, but take your head and sensibilities along with you too. On with the tale…
I first met Eva in my local health club. A high brow, pretentious health club packed full of posers; there to check each other out more than check out their health. I could feel her eyes burning into me and within minutes, she had made her way over and introduced herself. She was the predator and I was her prey. Looking back now, I realise that right there was possibly my first clue. She looked like a character from a soft porn movie. Her hair was flowing, styled like she was on a night out rather than working out. She wore a full face of make-up, done as though she was trying to look like she was bare faced and her outfit was revealing enough to make the mind wonder. She was a studied copy of a society girl, though not as polished and a little more racy. I would find out soon enough that her appearance and approach was all part of her plan.
She was a fan of expensive things and she had accustomed herself with every subject that would bring her into contact with those that she suspected had wealth. She had not been to college, although she would tell everyone that she had a Masters degree. Instead, she learned everything by herself; reading books, copying high profile celebrities and surrounding herself with strange, wealthy old men who introduced her to the latest must have accessory and in return, she seamlessly attached herself to them. I am by no means wealthy, but I get by. Why had she targeted me?
Later that day when she entered my home; that was it – she stayed for all the length of our relationship. The morning after our first night together, we went for breakfast. Then we had dinner. Then she slept in my bed again. And again, and again, and again. See, I had met her, or so she said, ”right in the middle of a big change;” she was supposedly moving out of her apartment after splitting up with a former lover. She didn’t have any change of clothes and all of her things were somewhere between her former home and friends.. She wore the same jeans and revealing top for the next few days. Then, she disappeared.
I could never reach her when she didn’t want to be found, but when she wanted me she wouldn’t leave me alone. Quite literally. We would talk for hours via Whatsapp or text, scheduling our next meeting. Between our time together, she would go to a friend’s house where all her belongings had been stashed and where she could change and spend time when I needed to breathe. Then she would make her way back to me.
She didn’t have a job either. When we had first met she had claimed to be a high flying career woman, but could never substantiate that. Soon after, the career claims mysteriously vanished. She then said that she didn’t need one, that her parents paid for her expenses so she could focus on her passions, but what her passions were exactly were never clear. She dabbled in one or two hobbies, but principally because they were my passions and she was intend on being involved in everything that I did. At first, I believed her tale. I reasoned that some people do have rich parents, and that these things were not mine to worry about. I didn’t really care and I didn’t want to know. Why was I so naive? She was a self proclaimed free spirit and I was blinded by her ticking all of the boxes that I had laid out to her and I let her into my life in a heartbeat. I might have been afraid of the answers I would’ve received if I had asked for more details.
It wasn’t long before I was forced to admit that something was wrong with Eva. The first thing that caused the first major fight between us was that she was overtly sexual all of the time, putting everything on display to everyone. She said she was just open minded and she had all these theories and principles that she would use to justify her behaviour. Things got worse. Eva seemed dangerously close to the business of sex. I started finding strange chat logs on my laptop. (‘’I miss your hands, come visit me this afternoon,’’ from an unknown man). Then the Vague Instagram DMs about hidden orgy parties.
I also started having strange encounters. The weirdest: Once, at a party, a guy came up to me and complimented me on the decoration of my home. Intrigued, I carried on the conversation, to find out that Eva had invited him to spend an afternoon at my house. Without ever asking permission or mentioning the visit to me afterward. I didn’t say anything. At that point, I knew something was wrong, and I wanted to discover exactly what she was up to before confronting her. I was no longer in love with her, but it was like I needed more proof. I couldn’t believe that she had been lying and cheating all along.
Her hatred for other woman was immense. She hated any females that I knew and she would constantly try to outdo them and belittle them in my eyes. It was the strangest thing because she boasted so publicly and prided herself on her sexual skills and how men were attracted to her, but she was thin-skinned at personal criticism and so jealous of beautiful women who had more to them than their looks. What did I make of this? The whore was attention whoring. What else is she good at, except sex and attracting customers? She was thin-skinned at criticism because of her low self esteem, not to mention her envy for beautiful, successful women whom she’d try so hard to demean. She trusted very few people and besides me, only had a couple of other friends that I knew of.
Above all of this, there was the constant and crass display of wealth; Eva had to have the latest of everything. She was obsessed with money and excessively materialistic. She talked in money, thought in money, ate and slept money. She took over my life with her constant buying, as though she were trying to put as much distance as she could between the image she had constructed for herself and her true, humble roots. The bragging, flaunting and boasting was endless and extremely vulgar, yet she didn’t seem to notice that. I later learnt that she had a huge debt problem, but who was paying for it, and how? She was possessed with proving that she belonged in the world of high society. The woman who had seemed to good to be true was proving herself to be just that.
I confronted her with her lies, her double (triple, multiple) life, only to receive more lies and impossible stories. That night, I told her to get out of my home and to never come back. She begged and pleaded. She had no home and no job and needed me. I was past caring. She disappeared as quickly as she first appeared into my life. I realised that I knew very little about Eva. I guessed she had come from nothing, and had become a ‘new person’ in the UK, away from her family back home. I also knew that she had come to London in search of money, but I was stunned to find out how she earnt it and how much she depended upon the kindness of strangers.
A few weeks later, she sent a friend to my house to collect a bag of stuff she had left. I had taken a look into the bag for more clues, to find a few designer trinkets that I decided to keep for myself. Compensation for the lies and emotional damage, I thought. Luckily, I never got anybody telling me ‘’Hey, I called an escort agency and they sent me your girlfriend.” So maybe she was only a liar and a fake.
I never saw her again, except that one time, in a Mayfair bar frequented by wealthy, foolish men
She apologised. ”I’m so sorry, I love you and still want you. Don’t you want me too?”
”No, you were never mine in the first place” I said, quickly making my way out of her grip.
Did she ever really love me? Or was she infatuated with what she thought I was and could provide for her? Who can say.