He was also sporting a deep V-neck, a rhinestone “$” pendant, and the slight suggestion of a mullet. He introduced himself as Jeffy, a writer. I pried a little, and he admitted that he also gave seminars to men on how to date women. I immediately, without much tact, told him what I thought of his career, and the color drained from the broken capillaries in his cheeks. He wasn’t expecting a hooker to know concepts like “misogyny” and “problematic gamification of human interaction.” And yes, I was completely open about my work with him. I usually am on first dates, because of my philosophy about honesty and being out as a form of activism. And I love the startled expression that provokes in most men. He seemed to think that the fact that we both work closely with male sexuality, insecurity, and romantic prowess made us similar. I saw it as more of a light side/dark side of the Force comparison. I try to make men feel more comfortable around women, around their own bodies, and work on their sexual and romantic skills in a constructive way. He teaches them how to hide their real selves and use acting and costumery to have drunken sex with strangers and then brag about it on the internet. They treat women like objectives in a video game, leveling up to “hotter” women, threesomes, and other more challenging situations. Hence I’m pretty sure that my status as a sex worker means trying to nail me for free is some sort of a boss fight.
— Jolene Parton, “My Date With SF’s Douchebag PUA With A Rape Van”
