Tuesday, April 14, 2015

"Am I allowed to deduct my bed as office furniture?"

"What are you putting under 'occupation' this year?"

"I can either right them off as an expense
or claim an investment tax credit."

Sunday, April 12, 2015

Over time the decorative style of my apartment in Paris and the house in the village have diverged as has my personal style. My apartment is starkly modern with glass topped tables, stainless steel and upholstered furniture from Ligne Roset. The house started similarly, with its cut stone walls and polished concrete floor. When you enter the house the kitchen is to the left. Along the wall there is a counter that contains a large work surface with a pot sink, a small commercial range/oven and the dishwasher. Across from it is an elliptical island that contains a larger sink, additional food prep area with under counter refrigerator and freezer. The island bar sits 6 comfortably and 8 in a pinch.

To the right, is the windowless wall that abuts the small garage with a wood stove centered on it. To the center is the stairs and landing that lead to my bedroom and the loft, under which, I keep a desk and a file cabinet making a tiny office. Facing the wood stove is a Cassina sectional that I can curl up on to read and serves as a spare bed.

That was pretty much how it was when I moved in, but it began to change. When I was in Morocco, I purchased two large wall hangings in Fes, one woven like a rug, the other painted and carved leather. These now bracket the wood stove and a Navajo rug is in front of the sectional. I was tempted to have more glass and stainless tables, but that idea was flipped and I went with brightly painted wood.

My personal style in the village? Neo-hippie.


Thursday, April 09, 2015

"How about performing an unnatural act? Like balling me for free."

Tuesday, April 07, 2015

My website offers three and a half options for meeting with me, A Brief Interlude, 2 hours that is intended for incall so there is an up charge for visits to hotels or residences. Lunch or Cocktails, 3 hours either in or out and involves spending a hour or so in public. This is the minimum for new Kim clients as it gives a chance to get to know each other. The last option and addendum is An Evening with Kim, described as a night on the town followed by intimacy, 4 to 6 hours. There is an option to keep me overnight, but the cost is exorbitant as I hate spending the night. I don't sleep well, this has long been a problem for me, but it seems to get worse as I age. In my private life, with one exception, it is the same, my lovers or one night stands, are sent off or I go home, post coitus. And of course those who would like to retain me for a day or several days, there are instructions to contact me.

The time variable often raises questions with new clients, but most understand when I explain that our date will reach its natural conclusion. A few will ask, what if the 6 your time is reached and the date has not reached its natural conclusion. I explain to them that I am not a clock watcher, but that I also assume their consideration. To the more obtuse who insist on a further definition, I tell them the date ends when they fall asleep, following intimacy they begin checking their phone etc.


Monday, April 06, 2015

Friday, during the drive to the village, I called Mirelle to see if she was free for dinner, she was, so I picked up some food and began the preparations shortly after arriving and walking Wags. She came by about 7:30 with a bottle of wine and a couple of joints. We ate, drank, talked and she caught me up on the latest gossip, while we smoked a joint. I slept like a baby Friday night, the best night's sleep that I've had in 6 months, at least nine and a half hours. Good food, drink a little dope and an orgasm or three helped.

Saturday was spent cleaning and getting the house ready for summer. In the afternoon I pushed the Honda into the street to start it after its winter slumber. After a couple of tries it stumbled to life for a couple of seconds and then died. i tried again and it roared to life. While it idled I checked the tire pressure and then got my helmet and jacket to take a short ride to warm it up and ensure it ran properly. Sunday I was meeting a couple of girlfriends with plans to ride southwest for a couple of hours and meet another group of women for lunch. When nothing seemed amiss I returned splashed some oil in the chain and put Yoko back in the garage.

Today, I hoped to surf, but the water is as flat as I've ever seen it around here and the surf forecast for the next several days is the same. I'll get some reading in.


Sunday, April 05, 2015

Happy Easter
Easter Bunnies preparing for their Big Day

Friday, April 03, 2015

My de cinq à sept client was easy, he was happy to fuck me on the couch, leaving no bed linens to wash. I set the apartment straight and within 45 minutes I had Marty's top down and I was on the Blvd. du Palais, headed for home. 

There, I fixed dinner for myself and fed Wags and then out for a walk. I'll admit that I dawdled and while I had time to meet my client at 10, I would need to drive myself rather than a taxi. I valeted the Miata at the hotel, a bad practice, and entered Les Heures, where we were to meet. 

He was at the bar, with a saved chair and a martini for me. Though this was our first time together, he had sent several pictures and I recognized him straight off. Then he spotted me and waived. He was no rookie at such transactions and greeted me with a wide smile and a kiss rather than a handshake. Having completed the financial transaction earlier, we began our date.

We chatted some, mostly him, primed with my questions till our drinks were finished and we retired to his room. At one, when I came out of the bathroom, dressed and ready to leave, he was asleep or feigning sleep. On my coat, there were several 100 € notes and a note from him on hotel stationary that he had a wonderful time and would be in touch.

As I waited at the valet stand for my car to be retrieved, one of the doorman approached me, he was familiar and later I remembered that he worked at the Sofitel near La Defense and had warned me about hustling for clients at their bar. He greeted me with unfailing politeness, saying that it had been a long time since he had seen me and that he had assumed that I had left the business. "Just a break," I told him. "Will we be seeing Mademoiselle again?" He asked, to which I replied with an inauthentic smile, that "I hoped to. Frequently." As my car arrived, he bid me goodnight. But I'd been warned. 

Now off to the village.