This page is for anyone who reads the whole menu before ordering, or simply wants to know more before writing to me. The short version is everywhere else on the site. This is the rest of it.
I was a late bloomer, and then I got very good at holding attention. Which is a polite way of saying I spent years watching how people behave before anyone was watching me.
Crowds are debatable. People, individually, I adore.
Maybe you’re very serious until I discover the one subject that makes you completely unreasonable. Maybe you’re shy for twenty minutes and then unexpectedly hilarious. Maybe you tell me you aren’t particularly interesting and, ten minutes later, you’re explaining something I’ve never heard of with your whole face involved.
There you are.
That’s the bit I’m always waiting for.
I ask questions because I want the answer. Then I ask another because something you said made me curious. Then we’re forty minutes deep into a conversation neither of us expected and I’m annoyed that we have dinner reservations.
Or pleased that we’re going to be late. Depends how much I like you.
I don’t think people are boring very often. I think they’re frequently asked boring questions.
Chapter II · Fair warning
A badly supervised brain
Ask me what I’m reading if you have time for the answer.
I read constantly. Poetry, fiction, manga, essays, something dark enough that I should probably follow it with a cartoon. Bukowski shares shelf space with manga, and the rest of me makes about as much sense once you know me.
I like writing that leaves something behind. A line I’m still thinking about in the shower three days later. A character who does something unforgivable for a reason I understand a little too well.
I like ideas that follow me home. Why people lie about tiny things when the truth would have been easier. Why wanting something and admitting you want it can feel like entirely different problems. Why we desperately want to be understood and then get a little nervous when somebody actually manages it.
That one interests me for obvious reasons.
And then, without warning, my intellectual curiosity abandons humanity altogether and I need to know whether octopuses dream.
They do. This information has improved my life enormously.
Ask because you’re curious, or ask because you like watching me get excited. I won’t mind either way.
fig. 2 — mid-thought
Chapter III · Choose your version of me
Pick an evening
Put me in the dress.
I love the heels, the perfume, somewhere beautiful, a very good table and that little moment when I walk toward you and get to see whether you can successfully pretend you weren’t staring.
You can take me somewhere intimidating. I’ll be fine. Actually, I’ll probably have questions. I’ll behave through dinner, charm the people I’m supposed to charm, and look perfectly respectable beside you.
Mostly.
The more serious the room is, the more tempted I become to lean over and whisper something that makes it difficult for you to maintain your train of thought. I have my flaws.
Or forget the dress entirely.
Give me a jacuzzi, tequila, wet hair, music too loud and nowhere we need to be in the morning. Let me steal your drink even though I have my own. Let the night get a little stupid.
Or come to me tired.
Room service. Bare feet. Your phone somewhere you can’t reach it.
You don’t have to do anything for me. Well. Nothing difficult.
fig. 3 — bare feet
Chapter IV
No performance required
I like accomplished people. Ambition is attractive. Competence is very attractive.
Tell me about the thing you built. The impossible problem you solved. The gamble that worked. Tell me about the one that didn’t. Especially that one.
Just don’t give me the press release. I’ll start asking inconvenient questions and then we’ll both be in trouble.
And if you’re nervous? Fine. Quiet? Fine. Inexperienced?
Come here.
You don’t need to pretend with me. I would much rather you tell me what you don’t know than spend the evening trying to convince me that you do. I’m patient when patience is called for. I can be very encouraging. And I rather like watching someone become less nervous around me.
For several reasons.
Chapter V · This deserves disclosure
Unfortunately affectionate
When I like someone, I tend to show it.
I’ll remember your drink. I’ll ask what happened with the thing you mentioned last time. I’ll touch you when I laugh. I’ll tease you once I discover you’re teaseable. And once I discover you’re very teaseable, I’m afraid that’s really more your problem than mine.
I’ll notice when you’ve gone quiet. I’ll probably notice why.
None of this is particularly strategic. I just don’t know how to be half-interested in someone.
And yes, sometimes I’m flirting. Sometimes you’ll know. Sometimes you’ll think you know. Sometimes I’ll say something perfectly innocent and watch you spend the next thirty seconds deciding whether it was.
I may or may not help you.
fig. 4 — a pastry I did not need
A little introduction
Still reading?
I like that about you. Leave me a note right here, then keep going; the best chapters are still ahead.
Sushi. Good Chinese. A pastry I absolutely did not need.
Aquariums, especially the dark rooms where everything glows.
A massage long enough to forget what time it is.
Art I don’t immediately understand.
Cities after midnight.
Live music. Festivals. Detours.
Reposado tequila. Serious red wine. An espresso martini made by somebody who respects espresso.
Beautiful lingerie nobody else at dinner knows about.
Learning something completely useless from someone who loves it.
Watching someone’s whole face change when they start talking about the thing that’s theirs.
That last one gets me every time. Enthusiasm is attractive. So is restraint. The combination can be a problem.
Chapter VII · Very well, actually
I can behave in public
You can put me beside you at a table full of people accustomed to being important. I’m not intimidated by accomplishment, and I’m genuinely interested in people who’ve built unusual lives.
Titles don’t do much for me. Motivation does. I want to know why somebody kept going when quitting would have been easier. What they still want after getting the thing they thought they wanted. What they’d build if money stopped being part of the equation.
Tell me what somebody wants badly enough and I’m listening.
Though you may notice that what I say to everyone else and what I murmur to you are occasionally very different conversations.
Don’t react. It’s more fun if nobody notices.
fig. 5 — the freckles
Chapter VIII · Some more vigorously than others
Positions I will defend
Things I believe with very little supporting evidence:
Hotel bathtubs count as plans.
Dessert tastes better when I said I didn’t want any and then stole yours.
Everyone has one subject they could lecture on without preparation.
Nobody hates poetry. Someone gave you the wrong poem.
A bookstore is a perfectly reasonable place to lose an afternoon.
Curiosity is sexy.
Competence is sexier.
Kindness when nobody important is watching beats both.
Anticipation is usually better than rushing.
Eye contact is wildly underutilized.
“We should probably go” has preceded a suspicious number of excellent decisions.
Chapter IX · I wanted to know
I remember things
Your favorite drink. The place you want to visit. Your dog’s ridiculous name. The project you weren’t sure would work. The thing you were worried about but tried to mention like you weren’t.
The thing that made you blush. Especially that.
If I ask about something later, it isn’t because I made a note somewhere. I wanted to know. There’s a difference between making someone feel interesting and actually being interested in them, and I’ve never been very good at the first without the second.
And once I’m fond of someone, I get curious. Once I’m curious…
Well. You see the problem.
fig. 6 — the in-between
Chapter X · Written out properly
Ways to spend the time
You don’t need the perfect label. Start with the mood that sounds most like you, and recognize yourself in one of these before you have to say anything.
Warm
The Girlfriend Experience
Warm, affectionate, talkative, unhurried. Being wanted by a woman who is visibly enjoying the room she is in, not one performing a girlfriend at you.
This is the one I return to most, because it asks the least and gives back the most. Dinner, conversation that keeps circling back to you, and a hand that finds yours without turning the moment into an announcement. Nothing about it is rehearsed, which is exactly what makes it work.
It lives in the in-between as much as anywhere else: getting ready together, the drive somewhere with the radio too loud, a joke that only makes sense to the two of us by the second hour. I flirt the way some people doodle, mostly without noticing, usually in the margins of whatever we’re actually talking about.
I remember what you told me, notice what makes you soften, and pay attention to the moment you stop trying to be impressive. Bring the honest version of you. It’s always more interesting to me.
The Girlfriend Experience is arranged separately from the dates listed under Rates and begins at two hours. Mention it when you write, and tell me whether you imagine something affectionate, playful, quiet or a little of each. More on the Girlfriend Experience
Reassuring
First Times & Confidence
Nerves are welcome here. So is curiosity. You don’t need the right words or any expertise, and I know how to lead without rushing you.
Most people who write to me about this begin with some version of “I don’t really know how to ask this.” You just did. That’s the whole trick. You already know how to start; you only needed someone to make it feel less like a test.
I’m patient with beginnings. I happen to like them. There is something honest about a person who hasn’t yet learned to hide what they want. We go exactly as slowly as you need, and not one beat faster. If you get nervous halfway through a sentence, I’ll finish it for you, kindly, and we’ll keep going from there.
Tell me about any sensory, mobility, access or comfort needs before we choose the setting. New friends begin at 90 minutes. Not ready to plan? Send me a question instead; asking isn’t agreeing to anything.
A little wicked
Kink & Femdom
Warm authority, praise, rules, anticipation and a sharper edge when you ask nicely. I like a dynamic with a plot: build, a rule broken on purpose, and the particular quiet after you’ve been told exactly how well you did. Intensity is a spice here, not the whole meal.
You don’t need the vocabulary. Tell me the shape of what you want, not the perfect word for it. I’ll happily supply the words; I collect them the way other people collect vinyl.
Everything here is talked through first and enjoyed second, in that order, always. Limits aren’t a formality to me. They’re the frame the whole picture hangs inside. Either of us can slow down, change direction or stop without turning the moment into a failure.
Kink and femdom dates may be priced differently from hourly time; I’ll confirm your total before any deposit. Tell me what pulls at you and what’s firmly off the table. A note on arrangements
Shared
Couples
Two people, both noticed. I’m not choosing sides, and nobody is here to be decorative or treated like an accessory to somebody else’s idea.
Reading a room with two people in it takes a different kind of attention, and I like the challenge of making sure neither of you ends up refereeing. I’ve never once felt like a third wheel. I prefer to think of myself as the axle.
Tell me about the two of you and what you’re hoping for together. Each person gets a voice, a boundary and my attention.
Write early and tell me about both of you: what each person wants, what either would rather not, and how you’d like me to handle the attention. Screening applies to everyone.
Unhurried
Longer dates & overnights
Long enough that neither of us is watching the clock. This is where the evening stops feeling scheduled and starts becoming a story with more than one chapter: dinner, a walk if the city is worth it, quiet, and waking up unhurried.
Most dates end just as they’re getting interesting. This one doesn’t have that problem. Dinner, conversation that gets past the interview stage, a show, a bath, a strange little excursion, comfortable silence, or something on a screen neither of us watches properly. Longer plans are my favorite because the in-between finally gets enough room to matter.
Six hours is an active evening with dinner, drinks, a show or another outing, and doesn’t include sleep. An overnight is up to 12 hours with a natural sleep period. Overnights and 24-hour dates are quoted privately, and advance planning is very welcome. See the date lengths
Just ask
Something else in mind?
Ask plainly. The worst I’ll say is no, and I’ll say it nicely.
Chapter XI · Not every evening needs to be cinematic
What I hope happens
Sometimes I want the dress and the wine and somewhere beautiful.
Sometimes I want wet hair, tequila and music. Sometimes I want to laugh until I’m unattractive. Sometimes I want to hear the thing you’ve never quite known how to explain to anyone else.
Sometimes I want to be very sweet to you. Sometimes I want to find out exactly how easy you are to fluster. Sometimes those are the same mood.
I can tell you what I read, what I drink, what makes me laugh and what catches my attention. I can give you photographs and little pieces of myself until you have a reasonably convincing idea of who Juliette might be.
But I’m not going to explain all of her to you here. Where’s the fun in that?
The practical part
The useful details, without the mystery.
Rates, screening, deposits and etiquette live on their own pages, so they’re easy to find and always current.
