As we all watched Elliott Spitzer’s political career come to a premature, and very abrupt, end this week, two thoughts raced through my head:
- Larry Craig’s wife had to be watching the press conference, staring at Mrs. Spitzer, and thinking “a great looking female escort………… you lucky dog……… what I would have given for us to have had a great looking female……”
- You can make good money being an international escort
From a strategic level, the “world’s oldest profession” also holds the title of world’s oldest competitive industry.
One of the axioms in effectively compete in any industry is
It’s not what you sell, its how you sell it
Here on TSW we have numerous post on Solution Selling which is a methodology focused on selling the value of a solution, not its parts, features or functions.
Imagine how long an escort would last in the profession if she sold on the tactical facts of a transaction as opposed to the desired benefit of the transaction.
For example (and yes Lord, forgive me for writing this):
“How you doing?”
“Ok look, here’s what I am offering”
“Agree to pay my price and we’ll go somewhere private. We’ll have small talk. I will lie about your level of attractiveness and you will believe me. You will start to panic when the thought of a police sting pops into your head and I will calm you down by making exaggerated claims on how your pasty-white, computer programmer physique turns me on. Sadly, but not surprisingly, you will believe me.
After some initial awkwardness, I will realize that my revenue per minute is dropping as I wait for you to gain your courage to “make your move” and so I will politely remind you that I’m kinda of a sure thing. You will nervously laugh, I will think less of you.
I will tell you that I fell like the luckiest woman alive, mentally I will be preparing my grocery list. You will believe me but will be confused when I accidentally let my mental activity manifest itself when I mutter “oat bran”. In a sad attempt to act “sexy” you will say something stupid like “yeah baby, I”m your oat bran man…..tell me…whose the oat bran man?” At this point I will play along and groan “oh yeah, you are, you are the one with the fiber, baby!”. We will both feel stupid, but I will be the only one who will know why.
At some point we will be physically commingled. I will perform a well rehearsed monologue of passionate phrases interspersed with claims that your level of manliness knows no limits. You will make sounds that will remind me of the time my dad cranked the car with the cat asleep on the engine. You will scream out “oat bran” again. I will think less of you.
As our session draws to a conclusion, you will mention how you feel like we “connected” on some emotional level. I will agree. We will agree to meet again. You will put the money on the table and rush out the door before the guilt hits you.
Later I will google your name and update my “myspace” page, counting the days until I am a celebrity and you will be forced to shamefully cast your life’s work away.
So how about it? Want a date?

1 response so far ↓
Hyderabad Escorts // February 26, 2009 at 4:10 pm |
Great post. I especially found it interesting…