There’s a certain breed of punter out there — and if you’ve spent more than a week in the game, you’ve bloody seen him.
The hopeless romantic with a wallet and a death wish.
He’s the guy who walks into a brothel, massage joint, or private booking thinking he’s just here for a bit of stress relief… and leaves thinking he’s found the one.
Not a one, not a good time, but THE ONE.
Like out of all the women on Earth, he reckons the one who moaned at him for 23 minutes while glancing at the clock is his goddamn soulmate.
And it happens fast.
We’re talking 15 minutes in, mid-position change, he’s already thinking about which relatives she’ll meet first and whether her favourite colour would suit the curtains in his mum’s spare room.
The Moment It Happens
Every bloke like this has the same turning point.
It’s not when she takes her top off.
It’s not when she laughs at his lame “So, you come here often?” joke.
It’s when she does something mildly nice — like offering him a sip of water, or patting his leg while reaching for the condom.
In that moment, this poor bastard’s brain turns into a Woolworths romance novel.
“She touched me gently. She must see something in me… something real… something deep.”
No, champ. She’s just making sure you don’t die of dehydration in the middle of cowgirl.
The Declaration
It always comes out awkward, like a schoolboy telling his crush he likes her after homeroom:
“You know… you’re actually different from the others.”
She nods politely while thinking about whether she has enough milk for her morning coffee.
But he takes that polite nod as a sign from the universe.
He’s found his Juliet. His Cleopatra. His… insert culturally relevant goddess here.
The Rescue Plan
Now comes the big move — the I’ll save you from this life speech.
He thinks he’s Harrison Ford in a rom-com.
In reality, he’s sitting on the edge of a sticky bed, arse cheeks hanging out, talking to a woman who’s silently praying he’ll finish so she can change the sheets.
It’s always the same lines:
• “You don’t need to do this.”
• “I could take care of you.”
• “I’m not like the other guys.”
Mate… you’re exactly like the other guys. Except they know it’s a business transaction.
The Aftermath
This is where it gets funny — or sad, depending how much Bundy you’ve had.
He leaves the booking and suddenly he’s 16 again, lying on his bed listening to Ed Sheeran, scrolling through her profile pictures like they’re family heirlooms.
Then come the messages:
• 2 hours later: “Hey, just wanted to say thanks again… I really enjoyed our chat.”
• 12 hours later: “I’m thinking about you.”
• 18 hours later: “I can’t stop thinking about you.”
• 24 hours later: “Are you free? I can come over. Like, now.”
Meanwhile, she’s blocked his number, told reception not to take his calls, and is happily eating Pad Thai on the couch in her trackies.
The Return Visit
Oh, he’ll be back.
Not because he’s horny — no, he’s “just coming to see her”.
He’ll even lie to himself: “I’m not even here for the sex. I just want to talk. She likes talking to me.”
Spoiler alert: she doesn’t. She likes your money.
Why It’s Always a Train Wreck
Here’s the thing these blokes never get:
• She’s paid to make you feel good.
• She’s not auditioning to be your girlfriend.
• She definitely doesn’t want to meet your mum.
You might think you’ve got “real chemistry”, but that’s just customer service with lube.
You’re not her hero. You’re not her escape plan.
You’re Tuesday at 3:15pm before her smoke break.
Final Thoughts
If you’re the kind of bloke who falls in love after 15 minutes, here’s my advice:
Stop it.
You’ll save yourself a lot of heartbreak, money, and awkward conversations with a receptionist named Crystal who now has you in her phone as “DO NOT BOOK”.
And to the working ladies — you saints in lingerie — I salute you.
Because it takes a level of patience most of us will never have to gently deflect a sweaty, lovestruck tradie while still keeping the booking on track.
If you’ve got your own 15-minute love story — punter or pro — share it.
Because we could all use a laugh at the expense of the bloke who thought a post-shower cuddle meant she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him.
