Sometimes, with certain clients, it feels like I’m just a hole. And I have to tell you—I hate that feeling.

I understand that there will always be a percentage of men who approach seeing an escort as nothing more than getting off. In their minds, it’s purely transactional. Honestly, if that’s all they want, they could use a glory hole and accomplish the same thing. But that feels…empty. Detached. And yes, a little gross.

What I don’t understand is choosing to be with a real woman—someone with a face, a personality, a presence—and still treating her like she’s invisible.

Now, to be fair, I don’t see many men like this. My ads are very clear: I’m offering connection, conversation, and chemistry along with the physical experience. Because without that context, sex becomes mechanical. Get in, get off, get out. Done.

That doesn’t interest me.

To me, when a man sees you as “just a hole,” he’s not seeing you as a person at all. He’s seeing a role. A label. Something he can use and walk away from without a second thought. Maybe I’m wrong, but I tend to think of these men as emotionally shallow—or at the very least, disconnected from intimacy. Some may even be struggling with compulsive behavior, where connection isn’t the goal at all.

The reality is, because of what I do, I know I’ll be seen in different ways by different men. For some, I’ll never be more than that. But interestingly, those are rarely the men I see again—and not because I block them.

They just move on. And honestly, so do I.

4/3/26  Hobbyists 

I had to write this after the last blog, because there’s an obvious overlap.

Hobbyists.

For those who don’t know, hobbyists are men who make a “hobby” out of seeing different escorts. They’re not looking for consistency or connection—they’re chasing variety. The next new experience. The next “flavor of the month.”

And yes, I’ve been that flavor.

Will I see a hobbyist twice? Almost never. In over ten years, I honestly can’t remember a single one who came back.

Do I enjoy seeing them? It depends. Some are perfectly nice. Some are not. But overall, it’s not my favorite experience. There’s something inherently unsatisfying about spending time with someone when you both know it’s a one-time encounter—especially when connection is important to me.

What I struggle with most is the mindset behind it.

To me, being a hobbyist feels a lot like chasing something you can’t quite catch. Always looking for better, newer, different. And I can’t help but wonder—what are they really searching for?

I would genuinely love to hear from men who identify this way. What is it about constant variety that appeals to you? What does it give you that one consistent connection doesn’t?

And yes, I’ve wondered if there’s a link to addiction. Not in a judgmental way—just observational. Because that constant need for something new can feel less like enjoyment and more like compulsion.

Do I have something against addiction? No. Not at all. Addiction is real, and it’s hard. I’ve seen it in many forms, and I have compassion for it.

I don’t screen clients based on whether I think they might be struggling with something like that. Truthfully, you often don’t know. And as long as someone respects me and my space, I’ll see them.

But there is a part of me that feels a quiet sadness for anyone who can’t slow down long enough to actually connect.

Because in the end, that’s the part that matters most—to me, anyway.

She knows you still have needs. She’s not naive. She may not know how those needs are being met—or maybe she tells herself you’re just taking care of things on your own—but she knows they’re still there.

And I have to believe that for many of these women, especially those who have completely and drastically shut down that part of their lives after menopause, there is a quiet kind of pain that comes with it.

Because on some level, they know they’ve lost something.

Not just the act itself—but the ability, the desire, the connection… the role they once played in your life in that way.

And that loss doesn’t just belong to you.

It belongs to them too.

I don’t usually respond to forum posts, but since my name has come up I thought I would say a few words directly.

First, thank you to those who have seen me and shared their experiences. Anyone who has met me knows that what you see is exactly what you get. I show up on time, I look like my photos, and I do my best to make the time we spend together enjoyable.

A couple of comments mentioned that I “talk a lot” or ask personal questions. That’s true—I’m naturally curious and conversational. Many of the men who see me appreciate that because it creates a relaxed and genuine atmosphere rather than something that feels cold or mechanical. Of course, everyone has different preferences, and that’s perfectly fine.

I also noticed some discussion about certain activities that I do not offer. I’ve always been very clear about my boundaries and about maintaining my health and safety. Those boundaries are not negotiable.

If someone is only looking for a body, there are plenty of options for that. What I offer is a genuine experience with a real person, clear boundaries, and mutual respect.

As for remarks about my age or appearance, I’m very comfortable with who I am. I’m proud of the life experience and confidence I bring to the table. Many wonderful men appreciate a confident, mature woman, and those are the people I most enjoy spending time with.

At the end of the day, the best way to know someone is to meet them yourself rather than relying on second-hand opinions on the internet.

Wishing everyone well,
Patty

I don’t usually blog about my encounters. Mostly because there isn’t that much to say beyond, “It was nice.” But today? That would not be true.

I met with an Aussie man who made me giggle with delight and scream with fear — the good kind. You see, he had me in every position imaginable, and at one point I swear he twirled me in the air. It was pure fun. Pure passion. And I don’t think I’ve ever felt that level of intensity in a session before.

We started the way I often do — me on top. Easy enough. But then he had what I can only describe as a very creative idea. He lifted us into a kind of lotus position — me sitting on him while he sat upright — and before I knew it, he had picked me up and twirled me toward the side of the bed with my bottom hanging off the edge. By this point I was giggling uncontrollably.

Then he lifted me again — and this is where I think he twirled me (I honestly can’t be sure; it was all happening so fast) — and tossed me back onto the bed like he had choreographed the whole thing. I mean, this man was masterful. It felt planned. Practiced. Or maybe just instinctive. Hmmm.

We tried a few more positions — some I had never done before. One I’m not sure I need to repeat. But overall? It was exhilarating.

And here’s the thing: he made me feel light as a feather. And from a woman’s vantage point, there is absolutely nothing wrong with feeling like a feather.

It’s too bad he lives in Canada and I’ll likely never see him again. But I won’t forget him. No way. No how.

And I can almost hear her saying:

Sakes alive I’m 95

Now I would rather be where you’re at

But that is neither here nor that

I tell you what it’s not so bad

To be with Arthur, Jim and Dad

And don’t you worry your sweet little hearts

Cause even in heaven, there’s nothing worse than my farts

Fooey nuts is all I can say

And I’ll be here on your judgement day!

That was her.

A little dramatic. A little irreverent. Completely unwilling to let anything get too sentimental without poking it with a stick.

She’d remind us she’d rather still be here — and in the same breath reassure us she’s fine where she is. She’d name the men she loved. She’d make heaven sound like a reunion instead of a mystery.

And then she’d ruin the holiness with a fart joke.

Because even in heaven, you’re still you.

The line that stays with me is this:

And I’ll be here on your judgement day.

Still watching. Still mothering. Still loving.

If she were 95, she’d be laughing while we cried.

And somehow, that makes me feel better.

I find a client who will later become my friend.

It always starts innocently enough. A simple half-hour appointment. Nothing dramatic. Nothing overly charged. Just two people meeting, spending time together. But sometimes, even in that short window, you can tell there’s something there. A comfort. A curiosity. A sense of ease.

The time is well spent — for both of us.

So I see him again.

Maybe once a month for three months. By then, I start to think of him as a regular. After six months, we truly know each other. We remember details. We follow up on conversations. We know what’s happening in each other’s lives.

And after nine months?

We’re friends. Plain and simple.

I care about what happens to him. He cares about what happens to me. When we see each other, we check in. Not just physically, but emotionally. We celebrate wins. We talk through struggles. There’s a real connection there.

This is part of what makes me special as a provider.

I don’t doubt that there are other women who work the same way I do — and are just as successful, maybe even more so. But I will never give up my quest to have a whole bevy of good friends and lovers. That’s what fulfills me. That’s what makes this meaningful.

Once we cross that line from client to friend, the only direction is either up or out.

By up, I mean it deepens. It gets richer. The trust grows. The vulnerability grows. The exploration grows. The friendship strengthens. We raise each other’s sexual consciousness because we feel safe enough to do so.

By out, I don’t mean something bad.

Sometimes it gets so good that it naturally ends. Life changes. Circumstances shift. People move. Relationships evolve. The connection has served its purpose beautifully — and it’s complete.

But I will never stop striving for that connection that turns into friendship.

Because only when there is real trust, real care, and real openness can you truly explore different avenues together. Only then can you push boundaries thoughtfully. Only then can you raise each other’s awareness — sexually, emotionally, spiritually.

That’s what I’m after.

Not just time.

Connection.

And when I find it, I treasure it.

Oh my word, what a useless site this is.

Men get on there and post reports about escorts. Now, I suppose that could be a good thing — especially if there are escorts out there robbing people or doing worse. But what I see most often is men randomly choosing an escort to bash.

I’ve had the lovely opportunity to be the main topic of discussion on there a couple of times, and it isn’t pretty. Besides being made fun of for losing 110 pounds and having saggy skin, I’ve been called plenty of names. I won’t repeat them here — you can probably guess.

That site is also where I first heard that I “talk too much.” And as much as I know I shouldn’t, I still take those comments to heart.

What’s interesting is that it’s usually the same few people posting over and over again. I found the same thing on ECCIE. I was on there for maybe six months before deciding it was totally male-chauvinistic. Escorts couldn’t even respond to the reviews left about them, and the reviews weren’t vetted. I thought very little of that site.

I know a lot of people use these forums, but I personally ban them. I’m not sure there’s any review site I would truly trust. It’s just too easy for someone to claim they met you when they didn’t. It can hurt a woman’s reputation and doesn’t really tell the full story anyway.

1/26/26 – Mah-Jongg Jewelry by Patty

I recently decided to start a new business, and if you’re interested in what I’m doing on the side, you can check out my website at mahjonggjewelry.com.

It’s pretty cool stuff — and mah-jongg is very hot right now.

I’m selling on Amazon, and when the weather gets better, I’ll be going around to boutiques and looking for a manufacturers’ rep. I also have an assistant helping me make some of the jewelry, drill tiles, and handle a bit of the administrative work.

I’m excited to see ywhere this goes. I love a hobby that lets me be creative and make money at the same time.

Well, I’m still here in St. Louis.

It’s been about eight months now, and I’ve learned a lot about this city in that time—most of it good, though not all of it. I feel like I’ve finally settled into what my business here is going to look like. Honestly, it doesn’t feel all that different from what I had in Kansas City.

I do have more no-shows here, and I’m still working on building a stronger base of regulars. That said, the regulars I do have are prime.

I sometimes wonder if there aren’t a couple of strikes against me. St. Louis seems to favor a younger escort in general, and I say that because there simply aren’t many women over 50 working here. In a way, that makes me a novelty—a bit of a lark—but I also think it takes some getting used to, and maybe a little gumption, for a man to even come see me in the first place.

That said, I still attract a wide audience and a really nice array of men. I’ve never felt safer—and that’s probably helped by the fact that I’ve never lived in such a nice house before. I’ve also become much more particular about who I see, when I see them, and where I see them. I haven’t done a single outcall since moving here, and I’m not complaining one bit. If things ever slow down, I know I may need to add that back into my repertoire—but for now, it’s hard to complain when I’m making good money seeing men I genuinely enjoy.

1/23/26 ED and Expectations

I see a lot of men with ED. A lot. Given that most of my appointments are with men over 50, you could probably say I specialize in it—whether I intended to or not.

ED is often caused by medication: blood pressure meds, diabetes meds, antidepressants. These can make it difficult to get hard, stay hard, or even have an orgasm at all. I talk about this almost every year because it’s important, and this year I want to focus specifically on expectations—what men with ED expect, and what they should expect.

It is not reasonable to think you’re going to get hard and stay hard, especially while using a condom. I rarely—if ever—see that happen. When I ask men with ED if they can get hard and stay hard, the answer is no about 95% of the time. So we move on to the next option: pumping.

Sometimes pumping works beautifully. Other times, it doesn’t work at all. If you don’t have good blood flow to begin with—the very thing that creates an erection—no amount of pumping is going to fix that. Pumps are helpful, but they are not foolproof.

At that point, I’m usually hoping you’ve taken a prescription pill about 30 minutes before seeing me—and taken the right amount. Not cutting pills in half. Sometimes that helps. Sometimes it doesn’t. Those pills aren’t foolproof either.

And then we’re left with either a blowjob or a handjob. A blowjob is great—if you’re one of the roughly 50% of men who can actually come that way. But if you’re part of the other 50% who can’t, then we’re down to a handjob. And let’s be honest: who really wants to pay that kind of money for a handjob?

As you might imagine, I often don’t see these men again. Sometimes I’ll see them a second time after they’ve gotten themselves on medication. But if that still doesn’t work, there usually isn’t a third visit. Every escort should understand this going into the business.

What I find both interesting and a little comical is how many men tell me they no longer have sex at home and are deeply upset about it—while being unable to perform themselves. How can you expect a woman to want sex with you if you can’t participate? I realize that ED isn’t usually the reason women stop having sex, but honestly, I wouldn’t blame them if it were. I think many of you would probably agree.

To end this, I want to be very clear: none of this is my fault. And this is a gentle warning to men to manage their expectations—especially when seeing an escort, where nerves are already high. ED isn’t the only reason men don’t get hard. Any man who is anxious as hell can struggle too.

I’m telling you this because it’s the truth.

My occupation is not easy.

Last year, I made a list of New Year’s resolutions I wanted to work on. They were:

• Meet a man I will have a wonderful, loving relationship with

• Continue using my exercycle until it becomes a habit, and then use it all year

• Continue going to meetups and Timeleft dinners so I could get out of the house and meet people

• Set boundaries with my son and stick to them

• Continue the prosperity I had found

• Gain more regular clients

• Save money every single month

• Take a self-defense course

Well, I wish I could tell you that I accomplished most of these, but I don’t know that I did. I did meet a man who became my boyfriend and my lover, so that one counts. I got rid of my exercycle when I moved to St. Louis, so that resolution never stood a chance.

I went to a lot of meetups and Timeleft dinners, but when I moved to St. Louis, I kind of gave that up. I tried one dinner here, and it just wasn’t the same.

As far as boundaries with my son, I have gotten better. I still have a long way to go, but I am doing better—and that matters.

The rest I pretty well accomplished, except for the self-defense course. I decided I was probably too old for that. I like my pepper spray, and thankfully, I’ve never had to use it.

For next year, I’m keeping my list shorter. I know myself better now, and I’m not going to put things on it that I obviously won’t do—like daily exercise.

My resolutions for the coming year:

• Continue my relationship with Gary and become even closer

• Increase my number of regulars and my monthly income

• Stay in touch with my good friends

• Become a success with my new business, Mah-Jongg Jewelry by Patty

• Continue to develop my relationship with my sisters

• Continue working on my own terms

• Start riding my bike in the spring

• Lose five pounds and keep it off

• Make new friends in St. Louis

• Continue to keep up with my blogs

There you have it. How I’ll do, I don’t know—but you will by next year.

One thing is for sure: I may have slowed down on how often I blog, but I will continue to let you know how I’m doing and what I think.

12/19/25  A Note About the Po-Po

It seems like I have to say this almost every year, but this time it feels especially necessary. I get so many stupid inquiries asking whether I’m a cop that I feel the need to write a blog about it.

First of all, no—I am not a cop. I don’t think any police force would hire a 64-year-old woman living in her own house with a 23-page website to do stings. It’s ludicrous if you think about it. But most men don’t take the time to look at my website and verify that.

Here’s the really stupid part: no undercover cop will ever tell you they are a police officer. They don’t have to, and they won’t. If they’re in pursuit of a crime, they can do just about anything they want to catch someone. That can include drugs, possibly sex with an escort, and other illegal activities. So when you ask an escort if she’s a cop and she says no, you still don’t know.

What you need to do is vet people. If you see someone online and you’ve never seen them before, don’t go see them.

Police stings are often random. You’ll never see them post consistently—maybe once or twice in a day. That’s all they need. The way you keep yourself safe in this business is by never talking about sex and money in a text. That’s how people get busted now. They get you to say what you’ll do and how much you’ll do it for, and that’s all they need.

Then they knock on your door.

I know, because it happened to me. It was in 2021, in the middle of COVID. It took two years for my lawyer to find the right judge, but he did. I got out of it with very few scrapes. I was lucky.

If most people looked at my website, they’d realize no cop is going to put out 23 pages of information, 500+ blogs, and 170 photos. Some men will still say, “Well, you never know.” But I do.

So the next time you want to ask someone if they’re a cop, pause and think. They’re not going to tell you the truth if they are. Asking an escort if she’s a cop is a silly endeavor—because she’s never going to say yes.

12/19/25  Writing Blogs

Since moving to St. Louis, I don’t blog as much. I think that’s because I don’t have as much to say. I’m doing very well. I’m very happy.

A lot of my blogs come from dissatisfaction or the need to set something straight. I’ve been doing this for so long that sometimes it feels like I’ve written about everything. Of course, that’s not true—but it can feel that way.

I will continue my diary, but it may be more limited this year. It’s funny because I think about blogs all the time, but I never remember what I wanted to write about—and of course, I never write it down.

12/19/25  Update on Talking Too Much

This is one area of my business that has changed—recently.

I no longer ask a man if he’s married. It’s none of my business, and if he wants to tell me, that’s fine. Asking that question brings them right up against why they’re here, and often brings guilt with it. That’s the last thing I want someone to feel while they’re playing with me in my room.

I’m also more open to playing longer. For example, if a man becomes satisfied in the first 15 minutes of an hour, I’ll wait a while and then start my ministrations again. Even if it doesn’t lead anywhere, it feels good—and that’s why men come to me. To feel good.

So yes, I’m reevaluating the way I make people feel good.

Most of my talking during an initial appointment comes from nerves. I’m doing a better job keeping that in check now. I know how to read a room, and I know whether someone wants conversation or quiet.

I still can. I always have.

12/19/25 – Mah-Jongg Jewelry by Patty

From 2000 to 2010, I ran a business on eBay where I bought old mah-jongg sets, drilled the tiles, and made bracelets, earrings, and necklaces. It was very successful, but limited in scope. I sold a lot of bracelets, but at a low price.

When I bought a mah-jongg set, I sold all the other pieces, so the tiles were basically free.

About two months ago, I decided to launch my new business. I’ve spent about $6,000 to get started—mostly on old mah-jongg sets. I’m on Amazon and I have a Shopify site: mahjonggjewelry.com. I’m also selling a bit on eBay.

Right now, I’m selling about one bracelet a day on Amazon. In the new year, I plan to work with manufacturer reps and send marketing packets to boutiques. I’ll start calling boutiques around St. Louis on January 15.

To say I’m taking this to the next level would be an understatement. Because I use only vintage materials, I’ll never scale to $100,000 a month—but that’s okay. I figure I can make about 500 bracelets a month. At $30 per bracelet, that’s not bad at all.

What’s most exciting is how this business has taken over my free time. I’m not bored anymore. I’m busy—and I love it. I love making money from a hobby I genuinely enjoy.

I’ve hired a part-time assistant to drill tiles and help with marketing, sales, shipping, and possibly bracelet making down the line.

I’m excited about where this is going next year. I started selling on Amazon on my very first day. Nobody else is doing quite what I’m doing. Buying these old sets is fun, and by the time I sell the racks, cases, coins, and rule cards, the tiles are pretty much free.

My profit margin is around 400%.

Not too shabby.

Not the easiest thing to hear, but honestly—not entirely wrong.

I’ve always been a talker. I like connecting, I like warmth, and sometimes when I’m nervous or trying to make someone comfortable, I fill the silence. But most men don’t come to see me to talk. They come for touch, intimacy, and escape. Too much conversation can pull them out of the moment, and I get that.

So I’m making a change.

I’m not going to stop being myself, but I am going to slow down, talk less, and listen more. I want every man who sees me to get what he came for—not what my nerves decide to offer.

I’m always learning, always adjusting, and always trying to be better. And if talking less makes the experience better for him, then that’s exactly what I’m going to do.