Devon Hunter

When I was first considering the transition out of the clubs and into escorting I wanted to do a lot of research first. Although it needs a new edition to update it with current technology, Aaron Lawrence’s “Getting Rich the Hard Way” was very helpful. Some of the conversations at Daddy’s blog were also informative, but a great deal of sifting is sometimes necessary to find the gems in all the silt. But what has been most helpful is having friends who do what I do.

But I’m pretty much settled into the profession now. So the reason I bring this up is because lately I’ve been getting emails from other escorts, each for different reasons. Some want to hook up, others want advice. A couple lately want to compare notes on different towns, and (I’m happy to say) a few would like to become acquainted in order to be potential friends.

Perhaps it’s an irony others haven’t considered, but despite all the intimate connections I make, I do still sometimes feel isolated. I don’t know if that’s something I create within myself, or if it’s something other companions experience too. At any rate, it really is good to have people around who can do “office talk.” LOL Everyone needs a community, n’est-ce pas? I’m glad to be hearing from other werkin’ boiz, and I hope it will yield some strong bonds.

I guess the reason I mentioned this at all is because I’ve been under quite a bit of stress lately, and it feels good to be branching out socially as a balance against that. Sometimes this career feels like a never-ending beauty pagaent with all the guys vying for Miss Congeniality, but most coming up short for the title. It is good to know that there are quite a few real people out there, and that they don’t want isolation. Here’s to new friends in 2010!

(fade up to Star Wars theme song by John Williams)

Okay, sorry for the overly dramatic beginning. Well, my roommate got my car started, and all the electrical bugs got fixed, but the Miata ended up costing me $500 more anyway: The rear brake calipers started leaking, and they sprayed brake fluid all over the brake pads… Long story short: Had to get new brake pads (which were more than 50% worn anyway, so no biggie - they would have needed replacing anyway soon), but I also had to get new brake calipers. But the car drives like a dream again. Just have to figure out where the water is coming from that is flooding the floor panel under the passenger seat… HMMMM! Anyway, there you have it.

BUT!!

There is something wonderful to share: While I was getting my brakes fixed I went to lunch. At the table next to me were two of the happiest women I’d seen in a long time. They were having such a good time together. OMG! Their energy was captivating. They were laughing deep in their bellies, and it was like listening to music. They had beautifully braided hair, and their dresses were covered in colorful African (or African inspired) designs. Their bangled jewelry clinked like little bells every time they’d throw their hands up in hysterics. They were so happy!

“I’m sorry to interrupt you.”

“Yes?” one said with a delightful glitter in her saucy eyes.

“I’ve been having a rough time lately, and, although I’m not listening to your conversation, I can’t help but overhear how happy you both are. I just wanted to tell you that I feel better for having heard real friendship next to me.”

“AWWW! That is so sweet! And you know what, baby? Whatever is getting you down… It’ll pass.”

“I think it just did.”

Now… time to go pack some boxes, so I can start moving into the new home I’ve found for me and Sméagol. He’s playing in the tape and cardboard: He’s always so happy to see all the new places to hide and ambush me from. His collar jingles as he’s playing, and it reminds me of the laughter of the two friends.

I feel good.

In the first “Food for thought” entry I discussed my supper at Taverna Plaka in Atlanta, Georgia. That was a wonderful experience, but not quite perfect (but through no fault of the restaurant itself). Something was missing for that dinner: Company. Meals are the very essence of quality time for friends and family, and I wasn’t able to share my pleasure at Taverna Plaka (but next time I will go with a friend).

Today I had lunch with my friend Joe. We went to Fogo de Chão in Washington, D.C… Ohmygosh!! It was one of the single most spectacular lunch experiences I have ever had. It was an event. The setting is immaculately clean and beautifully designed, the Brazilian/Portugese servers are prompt and courteous (almost to the point of embarrassing me), and the food is both visually and nom-nom-nomerifically stunning. It was almost overwhelming, it was that splendid.

We started with the “salad bar,” though I feel I do it a disservice to call something that looked more like landscape architecture a salad bar. I don’t know what else to call it though. It was perfect. I would almost venture to guess that each greenbean was placed strategically on the serving platter, and that each shaving of Parmesan was carved with care (so as to give the illusion of perfectly homey crumbles). I was nearly scared to touch anything. But I did. And it was yummy!

The meat portion is interesting. Each person at the table is given a round piece of paper that resembles a coaster. One side is red, the other is green. When the red side is up no one will come offer you his meat (if only it were that easy in the clubs, right?). But when you turn the green side up within moments a gentleman with a particular type of meat (sausage, chicken, lamb chops, leg of lamb, filet mignon, etc.) will come and offer you some of whatever is on his skewer. After I got a cut I left my green light on, and immeditely someone else came and offered me something else. I said, “No, thank you,” and he went away confused. Then immediately a third came… and then I was getting panicked… Finally Joe said, “You have to turn your coaster back to red.” Ohmygosh! Fabulous!

At any rate, Joe and I sat for what must have been nearly two hours talking. And you know what? The meal was superb, but it was made all the better for sharing it. With Taverna Plaka I was reminded that food is joy. But with Fogo de Chão I was reminded that people with food lifts that joy to inspiration.

I don’t socialize near enough in my personal life. I just don’t. I get tired of deflecting assumptions and defending my choice of career. I get tired of expectations, and I am generally worn out of people’s company after the weekend; however, this trip to Washington, D.C. has reminded me that I really do love people. Yes, I needed a reminder.

While I’m praising Joe’s company and Fogo de Chão I should also heap some praise on Dr. Terry Gerace. What a perfect host he is. He, as you may remember from my other postings about him, is a huge portion of the energy behind the FUK!TS I came here to help promote. He is also the owner and operator of what is probably one of the single most amazing Guest Houses/Bed and Breakfasts you’ll ever hear about: The Artists Inn Residence. It’s uncanny - he found a muralist who can do trompe-l’œil effects so well that I thought the wooden staircase was marble until I actually stepped on it. Amazing!

Dr. Terry spent three years on the house, and it features many reclaimed works of antique metal, stone, and wood. I’m staying in the Shakespeare Room (each room is themed to focus on a particular artist: William Shakespeare, Leonardo da Vinci, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, Katherine Hepburn, Salvador Dalí, and Duke Ellington). It’s quite simply the most relaxing and intriguing sleep over I’ve ever had (which is almost as insulting as calling the vegetables today a salad bar). The format is adjusting from nightly/weekly rates to monthly rates, so if you are planning an extended stay, you should definitely consider contacting the Artists Inn Residence, which is right in the middle of DuPont Circle.

Joe and Terry (as well as many other recently discovered precious friends) remind me to invest in people more deeply than I have in years. They are fantastic people. Between food, conversation, and hospitality they have made my visit here both constructive and very happy. As I venture more and more outside of the clubs in pursuit of my adult entertainment career, I am finding that this is a journey I should have started sooner. I am excited again about the possibilities that wait ahead.

Hey Devon,

I was wondering… What do you hate most about being a dancer?

- Inquisitive

Dear Inquisitive,

Every job has it’s challenges. There are parts of my work that I absolutely love: Performing, meeting new people, travelling to different places, setting my own schedule, having a real impetus to stay fit… Of course, all of those have their down sides as well, but generally those are my favorite parts of working in clubs.

I don’t know why you’re asking me this, so I don’t know how to frame my answer. Do you want to know, because you’re considering the career and you want to know what to expect? Or are you just curious? I suppose I can just speak to both at the same time.

Although I enjoy my work, I would have to say that these are my 10 biggest pet peeves about the work (rated from least annoying to most, for me personally):

10 Clothed patrons who make cynical comments to me about my appearance while I’m disrobed.

9 The same songs every night, no matter where I’m dancing.

8 Oily strippers.

7 Cigarette smoke.

6 Free advice from either patrons or dancers about the career that wasn’t requested in the first place.

5 Living on a completely inverted schedule from everyone else in the world.

4 Having to constantly explain why adult entertainment is a “real” career.

3 People who sit by the stage and text all night. Hello! You could do that at the back of the room!

2 Straight dancers talking shit about the gay patrons who support them.

1 Being treated like Hester Prynne by strangers outside of work while socializing with my friends in public.

I ate recently at a Greek restaurant in Atlanta called Taverna Plaka. It was an amazing experience, not only because of the food, but because of the process involved in eating it. I was reminded of how wonderful food can be, and the way it is celebrated at every meal in places like France and Italy. It really was wonderful. If you ever go, ask for Tatiana. She is sweet, and is very good at describing the food.

This was the first time I’d ever gotten to grind my own hummus. The chick peas, olive oil, lemon, herbs, and garlic were brought to me in a wooden mortar with a wooden pestel. The process of mashing it up and smelling the aromas comingling was so satisfying. And watching Tatiana set my flaming cheese on fire was fun. I’d forgotten how much I love interacting with food. Food is a treasure - it really is! As someone who has dealt with eating disorders, I cannot stress enough how important it is to not feel guilty about eating, to enjoy your food and appreciate it.

I had the lamb chops, and they were amazing. They were like marshmallows. They were soft and spongy, yet they had a good, meaty texture, and they wrapped around my teeth when I bit into them. And the dessert, Ek Mek, was just about the most decadent piece of heaven I’ve had in my mouth since Alan. (Whoops! That was dirty… but there you have it!)

So, why go on and on about a meal? Because it made me feel real joy. The tables were stable and sturdy, and there were signs posted all around that read “Dance At Your Own Risk.” People get drunk and dance on the table tops! This is what eating is supposed to be: Fun.

Too often in the United States were have a horrible relationship with our food. We either wolf it down while working (or thinking about anything other than the food), consume fake substitutions for food, eat it alone in our cars or some gray cubicle, and generally take it for granted. But food is the stuff of life, man! You are not only what you eat, you are how you eat!

Look at the Mediterranean peoples: They have low cancer rates, low obesity and obesity-related complications, long lives, and a tradition of forming life-long interpersonal relationships. They have a reputation for being friendly, loud, happy, passionate, and generous. How can you not be if you eat communally and dance on table tops to live music? These people live to eat, whereas in the United States we tend to eat to live.

I am feeling such a deep connection to my belly right now, and it is completely invigorating. So invigorating that I need to nap before I get ready to go to the club. I am not writing this blog as some kind of shameless plug for a restaurant that doesn’t even know I exist (although one of the waiters came to me and asked in broken English if I was Devon Hunter - how funny!). I’m writing this blog, because I was reminded that a passionate life is a beautiul one. I sincerely hope that you are doing what makes you happy in this life, and that you are sharing that wealth with as many people as possible. Life is a miracle - EAT!