I’d never considered entering the world of Sugar Daddy’s. I had a brief, uneducated idea of what I thought it meant and what it would require and never gave it much thought beyond that. That was until I recently received an odd message on Instagram. It was off an older man introducing himself, apologising for contacting me on social media and explaining who he was, what he done for a living and the type of relationships he was interested in.
He explained that I’d caught his eye with my pictures. My eyes where striking, was my hair naturally so dark? Etc, etc, you get the idea. I was flattered yet alarmed by his message. Was this a joke? He worked in fashion, had his own business and was in Milan for Fashion week. He sent me links to websites his Wikipedia page and a few pictures to show me he was legit and it wasn’t a scam. He told me he frequently flew to the UK, close to where I was for fabric and would be interesting in paying me for my, “time,” if I ever wanted to meet up with him.
For a while the message sat in my inbox. I showed a few friends. We nervously giggled about it and I didn’t take it any further. Then he messaged again. He apologised for being so forward, not intending on scaring me, he explained himself a little more and why he felt arrangements like this worked best for him. I appreciated his second message and I replied thanking him for his time, but I’d never really considered an arrangement before and it just wasn’t for me.
A few months later he was in town. He messaged me in advance and offered to pay me to take me out for lunch. He promised no funny business. He insisted on my safety and was constantly reassuring me that I’d remain safe and fully in control. It wasn’t necessarily the money that swayed me. But his constant reassurance. He seemed genuine.
We met at a little local Italian. He traveled to me so I could leave any time I wanted. I was a nervous wreck upon walking to meet him and almost backed out. He greeted me inside, and I managed to relax as he kept the conversation flowing. Assuring me I’d nothing to be worried about.
He passed me an envelope across the table. It was full of money and I put it in my bag in an awkward panic. He insisted he liked to do his payments in cash to avoid electronic trail. I was new to this, so I didn’t question a thing. The dinner itself was awkward. It was like an awkward first date with someone 30 years older than you who you had no intention on ever seeing again. He was pleasant and friendly and I didn’t feel in any danger at all. It was just uncomfortable and I’d rather had been anywhere else.
Up until desert things where okay, then he suggested we have a few drinks back at his hotel. I politely declined. The word hotel sent alarm bells ringing in my head. He then pulled out a camera bag from underneath the table and explained to me he’d hoped I would pose for a few pictures for him while he was here, as he’s an aspiring photographer in his spare time.
Again, alarm bells were ringing. Mama didn’t raise no fool.
I declined again and expressed my desire to leave, what happened next was an overload of constant messages. Asking for me to meet again. Asking for my bank account details to transfer me more money in an attempt to persuade me. Constant begging and pleading on every social media platform until I had no choice but to block him on everything.
Maybe it was just me having a bad experience. Or maybe it’s just not for me. But the next time anyone asks to pay me for my time, I’ll happily decline. Time maybe precious, but I’m not about to put a price tag on it for a complete and utter stranger. Anything could happen and it’s not worth the risk.
