Point/Counterpoint: The Losanjealous Escort Service Recap: A Janitor’s Tale

Denizens! As promised, our Losanjealous Escort Service participants have written up last Saturday’s historic undertaking. To commemorate the ’Day of Cupids Hearts and Shit Like That’, we now present both sides of the tale for your enjoyment.

Up to bat: PhotoJanitor tells his side of the tale……

Within the first five minutes of my evening with contestant #2 of the Losanjealous escort service, we were already talking about the sex life of her parents. This was going to be a fine evening.

Let’s back up a bit. From the initial posting on the site to the actual date, I had garnered some underground fame. Someone stopped me at the gym, having recognized my eyeless face. A friend of a friend asked Isn’t that [redacted]? Some homeless guy on the street looked into my car and asked for change and an autograph. It was a quite a trip for three days, though the zenith of this whole stunt was still to come.

Above: Escort and charge enjoy La Bodeguita De Pico (Credit: Losanjealous MustacheCam 8000)

I had made verbal contact with #2 and I made sure she wasn’t Karl Rove’s niece. Check. Actually, she sounded rather pleasant, which was a welcome respite from what I might have had to undergo had some of you’s gotten your way. We agreed to meet at the Little Wine Cellar and we were on our way.

From the first minute of our dinner at La Bodeguita, it was clear that it would be a harmonious evening in which conversation would flow and stories would be told.

Case #1: Requisite stories of our past. I used to teach pre-school. One of the kids, during nap time, had a certain predilection towards masturbation. It’s true and, apparently, pretty normal for little girls. What’s not normal is talking about it on your first date, but, then again, neither is being an escort.

The food came, as did the mojito’s. I had the Picadillo a la Habanero, or ground beef marinated and slow cooked in a garlic, onion and tomato sauce. She had Ropa Viejo, or Old Clothes. The food was great, though its deliciousness was somewhat tempered by the fact that semi-erotic images of the owner’s beautiful wife hung directly across from me. Now, I have no problem staring at beautiful women, but looking at these portraits/paintings/life size Cuban Sports Illustrated swimsuit edition cutouts felt like she was cheating on owner man/husband with me. Plus, I was on a date, which was going swimmingly until we were visited by certain patrons of a certain website.

Case #2: Apparently, #2’s momma and poppa still like to get busy. Excellent.

As we were talking someone surreptitiously sidled up to our table. She placed a blank white business card on the edge of our meal and ran out of the restaurant. I turned it over and it read simply “Losanjealous,” in plain black letters. We were tagged, were seen, were possibly being watched and had been/will be the entire night. Though we never quite reached paranoia levels, we were certainly mindful of the eyes that drifted towards us.

After dinner we decided to check out the local watering hole: The Cottage. Crossing the street, we narrowly missed a cop car that seemed like it appeared out of nowhere, a la Timecop. Quick to escape the law, we ran into the bar. As I walked in, I knew it was going to be a trip as me and #2 were the only whitey’s in there…perfect! We sat down and Mr. Bartender, all done up in a belly button length tie, pimp hat and matching pimp vest and fingernails FloJo would be happy with, handed over a Mai-Tai and a whiskey. From that point we decided to forgo a certain promised musical end to the evening due to both our laziness and the fact that it was well into the set by that point.

Above: Escort and charge enjoy The Cottage Bar on Pico (Credit: Losanjealous MustacheCam 8000)

Instead we drank the night away, which ended at Swingers by which point we had already done three lines of coke off of each other and smoked and drank each other silly. No, wait, sorry, I was just thinking about what would have happened were my life like Ben Stiller’s in Permanent Midnight.

At the end of the evening I gave her the requisite escort kiss on the cheek and was on my home until…thump! I looked behind me and there, lying in the road, was a body face down on the pavement with a stack of white business cards in her hand. They were watching the whole time…

EscortWatch 2007: Read on…

The contest is announced
The details are solidified
The finalists are presented
The winner is chosen