How Not to Text an Escort

Let’s talk about punter text messages. Because somewhere between “Hi, are you available?” and “U up babe?” a whole generation of allegedly grown men decided to switch their brains off and start typing with their dicks.

If you’ve ever worked the phones at a brothel or had your own work number, you already know: the real pandemic isn’t COVID, it’s shit SMS etiquette.

So this is a public service announcement – for the boys, for the ladies, for the poor receptionists who have to read this chaos at 3am and still say, “Hi hun, how can I help?”
Grab a drink. This might sting.

Exhibit A: “U avail?” This bloke always texts like he’s being charged per vowel.
“U avail” … “how much” … “now?”  That’s it. No hello, no name, no time, no context, like you’re a hungry ghost floating around Burswood waiting to teleport into his lap.
My brother in Christ, this is not UberEats. You’re not ordering a Large Latina Combo with garlic bread. You’re speaking to a human being who runs a business.

Bare minimum:

• Say hi.
• Say your name (or at least pretend you’re not a bot).
• Say when you want to see her.
• Actually read her profile so you don’t ask for stuff she clearly doesn’t do.

If your message looks like it was typed by a concussed magpie pecking at a Nokia, start again. 

The worst one I ever sent myself back in the day was: RU open for business ? 

Exhibit B: The Menu Shopper
This guy sends the same copy-paste essay to six girls at once:
“Hi babe, what services u do? BBJ? Greek? Bareback? Face sitting? Discounts? Can I see more pics? What ur limit? I’m generous
Generous, he says, while trying to bulk-order extras like he’s at a yum cha trolley.
Here’s a tip: if the first thing you do is demand a full sexual CV plus a discount before you’ve even confirmed a time, every woman in the building knows exactly what you are:
High maintenance. Low spend. Massive headache.
You know what actually looks generous?

“Hey, I’ve read your profile. I’d love to see you for an hour at X time. Is that possible?”
Then shut up. Wait for a reply. Magic.

Exhibit C: The Phantom Booker
This genius makes a booking, confirms twice, swears he’s five minutes away.
Then vanishes. Phone off. No show. Reception is pissed, the girl’s done her makeup, shaved, turned down another guy… all because Captain Commitment issues couldn’t be bothered sending, “Sorry, can’t make it.”

Look, life happens. Cars break down. Boss drags you into overtime. Wife suddenly wants to “talk about the relationship.”
Fine. But be a grown adult and cancel. You’re not protecting anyone’s feelings by ghosting. You’re just being a dickhead with less reliability than Perth public transport.

Two lines is all it takes:
“Sorry, I have to cancel. Can’t make it today.” Done. You’ll still be a flog, but at least you’re a considerate flog.

Exhibit D: The Emotional Dump Truck
Not content with a normal booking inquiry, this one opens with his full tragic backstory.
“Hey babe, I’m so lonely, my wife left me, I haven’t been touched since 2014, my dog died, I’m devastated, I just need someone who understands…”
Mate. Therapy exists. Lifeline exists. Your GP exists.

Escorts are not emotional landfills for every unprocessed feeling you’ve ever had. Yes, a lot of them are incredibly kind, intuitive, and good listeners. That doesn’t mean you get to tear your heart out and slam it on the counter before you’ve even asked if she’s working.
Bring your humanity, not your entire unresolved childhood.

Exhibit E: The “But I’m Different” Guy
This is the bloke who starts like a normal client and slowly slides into delulu.
“Hey, that was amazing, can I see you again?”
Normal. Great.

Three weeks later:
“I know you say you don’t date clients… but we have a connection.”
“I’d treat you like a queen if you didn’t have to do this.”
“If I keep booking you, maybe we can stop charging one day?”
No, Romeo. That’s not how this works. This is her job. You paying her doesn’t magically turn into a love story; it just means you settled the invoice.

You’re allowed to enjoy the chemistry. She probably does too. But once you start arguing with her boundaries over text, you’ve gone from “nice regular” to “walking red flag with data.”

How To Text Like You Actually Respect Her
Alright, enough roasting. Here’s the part that might actually help you get laid by women who don’t hate you.
If you want to stand out (in a good way):

1. Read her profile. If she says “no natural, no Greek, no face pics, no time wasters”… she means it. Don’t be the experiment that proves her right.
2. Send a clean, simple first message. “Hi, this is Mark. I saw your profile on Langtrees. Are you available for an hour around 8pm tonight?” Look at that. Civilised. No one died.
3. Confirm once. Not 17 times. “Great, see you then.” Maybe a quick “I’m here” when you’ve actually arrived. That’s it. This isn’t a NASA launch.
4. Show up. On time. Clean. Sober. With the agreed amount. Revolutionary concept, I know.
5. Don’t be gross in text.

Save the graphic fantasies for your journal unless she explicitly invites sexting. Spoiler: most don’t. They’re working, not auditioning for your wank bank.

At the end of the day, texting an escort isn’t that different from texting anyone else you want something from: be clear, be polite, don’t be a potato.
If you can’t manage basic respect over SMS, you don’t deserve the luxury of a woman who has spent an hour getting ready to make you feel good.
So next time you’re about to fire off “u avail bby Greek cheap?”, do us all a favour:
Put the phone down … Take a breath … Try again like a man who’s met civilisation.

You might be amazed how much better your bookings get when your messages don’t make everyone in reception want to throw your number in the bin.

Author: Master Yoda
For: Langtrees.com

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