Part I: Cauliflower, Elephants, and Stage Names

Everyone remembers the moment they realized their life could go in a very different direction. For me, it began during a casual conversation with an acquaintance. She was a flight attendant who often had overnight layovers in Dubai. Her eyes sparkled as she shared, “I landed, showered, met him at the Burj, went shopping the next day, flew home with two new handbags and a suitcase full of cash.”

She spoke about it as if she were dropping off dry cleaning, as if this lifestyle were just another choice. I admired her Chanel handbag, though that wasn’t what tempted me.

As I listened, I wondered if I could combine my love for physical intimacy with practical needs, like buying weekly groceries for my cats and me and paying off student debt.

The following week, while browsing a bookstore, I stumbled upon a book of real-life experiences from a call girl. Intrigued, I read it in one sitting, put it down, and immediately Googled, “High-end companion agencies near me.” Without pausing to reconsider, I emailed every single one in my city, shut my laptop, and went to bed, fully expecting to not hear back from any of them.

To my surprise, the very next morning, I received an email from Tammy with a time to meet for an interview that Thursday. My heart raced with anticipation; I was elated, realizing this was all becoming very real.

Tammy’s email said to check in at the front desk and wait in the office building lobby. It was a few minutes past 2 p.m., so I reviewed my résumé, feeling excited that an agency had invited me to interview.

Jeremy, her assistant, appeared, smiling, and led me to Tammy’s office. He opened the door, and Tammy turned to face us. She looked glamorous: red hair, plunging neckline. I stared too long. I cleared my throat, set my folder on her desk, and sat down as Jeremy left.

“What’s this?” she asked, eyeing it.

I was excited, breathless, and started my rehearsed pitch. “I just graduated! Look, I’ve listed my parents as my references! I worked for my aunt’s dental office throughout university, so…” I stopped myself and pointed. “I’ve also listed her as a reference here. You can call her to verify my experience!!”

She nodded, her eyes now on her computer screen, then asked dryly, “Preferred name?” as she started typing.

I beamed and tapped on my résumé. “My name’s right here!”

She stared at me for a moment and squinted. “No, honey… your model name.”

I was not a model. What was she talking about?

She frowned and, with an annoyed tone, said, “You know… your provider name? So, what is it?”

I didn’t understand.

She tried again, “A stage name. Honey, what’s your stage name?”

I blinked. I didn’t know I needed one.

She sighed, stood, and walked to the whiteboard. She grabbed a marker and began helping me pick a name. She asked if I had any ideas.

Meanwhile, I kept thinking about my résumé, wanting Tammy to know about my customer service skills from the dental office, where even patients brought me gifts like homemade cheesecake.

She snapped her fingers, pulling me out of my thoughts, and pointed to the whiteboard.

I said, “Oh… well… I once took an online stripper name quiz. You know, your pet’s name plus the first street you lived on as a kid? So… that would be Papillon Ash! I can go by that, right?!”

As a kid, I had a dog named Papillon, which means butterfly in French. I thought it was cute. I smiled because I was certain Tammy would approve.

Her jaw dropped. “Whaaat?”

She shook her head, clearly unimpressed by my suggestion. While likely questioning her decision to interview me, she helped me choose a stage name. We picked one, and she handed me a packet to fill out while she typed up my profile. I had to list out all my preferences. I wrote “cauliflower” under dislikes and “elephants” under likes.

I filled out the rest and handed it back to her. She read silently, then sighed. “Honey… no, no, no. I need to know your physical likes and dislikes, like in the bedroom. I am not asking for your food or animal preferences. You know… a ‘dislike’ could be poor hygiene, and a ‘like’ could be generosity.”

Oh…

She called Jeremy and told him what I wrote. They laughed. He said some clients might like it as a change from usual answers. She left “cauliflower and elephants” as placeholders until I sent real answers.

Tammy asked for photos. I scrolled through my phone and showed her vacation pictures. They were of me in a bikini, family waving in the background. I asked if those would work.

Again, she looked annoyed. She started to speak, frowned, then shook her head and uploaded the photos. She said they’d do until I could schedule a shoot with her photographer. She asked if I wanted her to blur my face. I wondered why, since it’s what I’m complimented on most, but I agreed (thank goodness).

The interview ended. She called Jeremy to lead me out, looking up just long enough to say, “I’ll be in touch.”

“Wait, when will I know if I’m hired?” I blurted out as I stood up to leave.

She blinked slowly. “Uh… hired? You were hired from the moment you walked in, and I saw you. I mean, look at you. My clients will love you. Wanna start tomorrow?”

I had so many questions. “Oh, uh, thank you! Wait… what do I wear?”

She looked me up and down (I was wearing a simple, business-casual suit) and shrugged. “That’ll do.”

I had expected her to say a tight minidress and stiletto heels, but maybe that was just what the movies depicted. She stopped me as I walked out, eyed my body, and took my measurements, noted them, and waved me away. Jeremy whispered, “Just be confident and don’t act new.”

With my résumé left on her desk, the office door closed. Another door to a new world opened. I blushed, feeling a mischievous flutter.

Little did I know that my next step would take me to a penthouse, prompt a quick wardrobe change, and lead me to meet him.

To be continued in Part II…