How to be a Male Escort

Well, now that I am "between jobs", I thought it was time I finally put that previously non-existent free time to some good. I wanted to become a volunteer. I looked into all sorts of ways to show how much I cared. I eventually settled on becoming a Male Escort. No, no, no, not the cold hard cash Male Escort. I was going to volunteer my services...to show I cared.

It started with a visit to the Caring Community near Washington Square Park. They helped find people (males and females) to accompany (escort) older New Yorkers to doctor's appointments, dentist visits and shop for them if needed. This sounded perfect for me.

After an intitial meeting with Wendy Golub, Director of the Caring Community, and a background check, I was ready for my first escorting gig.

During our intial meeting, I casually mentioned to Wendy that I was nuts about dogs. About a week later, Wendy called me with the perfect storm of old people and dog nurturing, together. My first client was going to be a woman that Wendy described as "challenging." That woman turned out to be Mrs. Rowley (not her real name). I still have no idea what her first name is.

Wendy told me that Mrs. Rowley needed to go to the dentist and may need me to watch her toy poodle while she was getting examined. Wendy also said that Mrs. Rowley had "over-bonded" with her toy poodle. I was unclear what that meant. I was given very specific instructions to meet Mrs. Rowley's in front of her Fifth Ave. apartment building at 8:45 AM for her dentist appointment. We were to then take an Access-A-Ride bus to her dentist on the Upper East Side.

Sticking with my newly minted frugal approach to life, I decided to take the bus to meet my new client. I was 5 minutes late. I could tell Mrs. Rowley was absolutely certain I had slept through the alarm or was lying in a pool of vomit/blood somewhere. I could tell she was relieved when I introduced myself as the volunteer she was waiting for.

She had been sitting on a small stool outside the building and when I introduced myself, she stood to shake my hand. Mrs. Rowley was no shrinking violet. Standing, she was as tall as me. She immediately launched into her first of many, many stories. The only problem was that her speech was slightly slurred and she spoke very fast, giving her a vaguely tipsy Carol Channing-like quality.

Although I didn't catch every detail of her stories, I did manage to glean the gist of her stories, from the time she spent on the swim team in high school, to her experiences in Europe with the USO. Eventually, she asked me where I was from and I told her that I was from Texas. She squealed with delight and asked me if I knew the Deans from San Antonio. Trying to be polite, I just responed, "No, that doesn't ring a bell."

She introduced me to Newsy, her toy poodle with a thyroid condition. Newsy was sitting perched in her shopping cart and couldn't take her eyes off of Mrs. Rowley. Newsy also didn't have much fur, and I wondered if this was because of her thyroid condition. I eventually learned that Newsy had just been shaved the day before to keep her comfortable in the summer heat.

She told me that the Access-A-Ride would be there any minute. True to her word, the small bus showed up 10 minutes later. It was about 9 AM by this time. I asked Mrs. Rowley what time her dental appointment was. She said it was 11 o'clock. Now I understood why she was so panicked when I was 5 minutes late. She had the senior citizen better-two-hours-early-than-late mentality. I didn't have anywhere to go, except for lunch, so what did I care?

Mrs. Rowley came very well equipped. Besides the Newsymobile, which also served as a depository for various bags and papers, she brought her walker. When our ride arrived, she decided that she couldn't let Newsy out of her sight and insisted on using the shopping cart with Newsy as her walker. I was left to tend to the walker.

Now I'm not normally one of those people who cares what people on the street thinks of him, but for some reason, I was very uncomfortable trying to carry the walker. I could just imagine all the hotties on the street thinking, "wow, look at that middle-aged guy that already needs a walker." And then I imagined that people would somehow think that Mrs. Rowley was my wife. And how nice that "we were there for each other." They were imagining a meeting at Studio 54 when she was an older cougar on the prowl and he was probably a young aspiring writer/busboy at Danceteria.

I had to find a way to let the world know that this was not my walker. First, I put it to one side and pushed it with my right hand only. Then, I tried folding it up and carrying it. This proved to be too awkward, so I eventually settled on pulling it behind me. YOU try transporting a walker with style. It's just not going to happen.

After waiting over an hour for Mrs. Rowley's appointment time, we had to then wait another hour for the dentist to call her. By this time, she had talked the hygenist into letting her take Newsy in to the examination room with her. I was beginning to wonder who was "over-bonded" to who? I sat in the the cramped waiting room feeling very useless. So far, I hadn't really done anything very escorty. While she wasn't very fast, Mrs. Rowley was certainly mobile.

Finally, I got to prove myself usefulness as an escort. The dentist wasn't as tolerant of Newsy's presence as the hygenist. Newsy was booted from the examination room and I was finally able to show that I could watch a 5-pound shaved toy poodle with a thyroid condition. Newsy eyed me suspiciously. She couldn't stop looking at the door hoping that her benevolent giantess would come walking through. Ten minutes later, she did. Newsy was ecstatic.

When Mrs. Rowley returned and saw her little Newsy, I suddenly imagined it was the first time in Newsy's short life she had been without Mrs. Rowley. And eventhough it was a short 10 minutes, I suppose I surved my purpose. It didnt' really matter who was overbonded to who. I guess we all have our fixations. Such is my new life as a volunteer Male Escort. I'm ready for my next client.