[Name pending]
[Real bio pending, who she is, what she did before this, why she’s the one running the room.]
Who's behind this
I grew up in Hamburg, one street over from the Reeperbahn. Bigger than Amsterdam, and I walked past it every day on the way to school.
You learn two things growing up there. This work never goes away. And almost everyone doing it got a worse deal than they were promised.
Years later I was on the other side of it. I paid a woman for her time, for a long stretch, and I'm not going to dress that up.
Here's what I actually paid for. Dinners where her phone stayed in her bag. Being asked a question and then being listened to when I answered it. That was it. That was the whole thing.
Once you've been the one paying, you can't unsee what he's paying for. And you start noticing how many girls are being taught to sell the wrong thing entirely.
That's why this exists. I watched who made money in that world my whole life. It was never the ones selling pictures.
The two women who run the room
The room is women only. They run it, not me, and I don't go in, a man sitting in there listening would ruin the one thing it's for.
[Name pending]
[Real bio pending, who she is, what she did before this, why she’s the one running the room.]
Him not being in there is the point. Ask them about it, they'll tell you.
What we're not going to pretend
This is work. Real work, and some days it's tiring in a way that a shift at a bar isn't, because the thing you're bringing is you.
It's better than the alternative by a long way. Nothing of you ends up online. Nothing follows you into your thirties. You can stop on a Tuesday and nobody ever finds out.
But we're not going to sell you a story where it's all easy and you're a boss. You'd work out the truth on your own soon enough, and then you'd stop believing anything else we said.
Everything on this site is meant to still hold up if you read our notes.