Thick Skin

As a provider, it is important to keep abreast of your own reputation and quality of your reviews.  Companies around the world invest a healthy portion of their development funds on collecting and reviewing carefully crafted customer surveys, so there must be something to it.  Because my own entrepreneurial skills are strictly amateur, I am comfortable adopting practices that smarter, much richer people have adopted.  (Don’t worry, though, I doubt I’ll ever be recording sessions for quality control or training purposes.)

Beyond using reviews as a way to measure how the market values your product, some of the best publicity in this business is the review system — Gentleman A documents and shares the dirty details of his experience with you so that Gentlemen B-Z can decide if they would like to share a similar time.  This system is frustrating to personally manage and interpret on two levels.

First, any review a man reads can never be a completely accurate indicator of the future experience he will have with a girl.  Because chemistry varies so much between each pair and because the dynamic nature of moods ensures that each and every session, even with the same person, will be unique and unpredictable, many times the juicy details of a review can be meaningless.  And since it is impossible to control or even decipher the expectations a client has as he walks into your door, living up to a review can be a difficult feat.   Second,  reviews can be inflated or deflated in an effort to please the masses or to placate egos,  so really, even if someone were to base a decision on who they were seeing on the details of what they read, it can be difficult to know if they were more interested in the truths or in the more fabricated aspects of any experience.

And at the end of the day,  there’s me.   The girl in her pjs and a fresh cup of tea who is reading the nitty gritty of how she is viewed through the eyes of the second party.   Add on the comments of the third party boys, which is often even more diluted, and you have one giant mess of information.  Regardless of how much I rationalize how reviews are good publicity, and how I realize that I may sense a negative spirit in words that were written in a positive spirit, and how much I might have disliked the experience with him, I’m still sitting there all alone reading about how I look older/fatter/uglier/just different from how someone thought I might look.  I read about how my pictures are obviously old when I know that I took them just a month or two prior.   Someone says I have red hair, when really it’s a dirty blonde (red, really? is he sure he actually met me?)  Someone says I did Sex Act X when I have no idea what that means.

For the more popular and successful girls, the more pointed commentary occurs less than the purely flattering, but even then, it is so much easier to shrug off a compliment than it is to internalize something I perceive as an insult or critique.  Hearing that much information about myself, most particularly the parts that I can’t control, was and is enough to make my head spin.

The best way I learned to deal with the stress of so much feedback was to ignore the reviews of mine that did come in, unless someone asked me about a particular aspect of the review or mentioned that it was especially glowing.  I tried to distance myself from potentially toxic girls who seemed to require as much affirmation from me as I required from myself, for myself, thus depleting my limited capital of energy to care.

So much must be balanced in this line of work for a provider to remain mentally and spiritually healthy, which I imagine is a requirement for many lines of work in this day and age.  So respect the girls that do manage to keep a good head on their shoulders.  When you do interact with them, take a second to appreciate how strong she is and how gracefully she handles herself.

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