My Prison Stories
When I refer to my time in prison on some of my posts, I’d like to make it clear that I am not a criminal nor am I contrite about what led me there, as you will discover the more I write.
It was simple economics. I met the supply and demand of two parties. It was very profitable, very ego boosting and very enjoyable. Los Angeles and several major cities in the USA had wealthy men who enjoyed the company of beautiful smart women. There were beautiful ambitious women, who wanted financial independence so they chose a way to make large amounts of money and have fun along the way. The law called it Pimping and Pandering, I called it P2P – Pay to Play.
I brought both parties together, however in most of the US, it is a felony punishable by a mandatory minimum of 3 years in prison. Not deterred after my first stint of 18 months of which I did half of after a plea bargain where I plead guilty to attempted pandering, I opened shop a week after I was released and went back to prison 3 years later. Twice I was sentenced by Judge Lance Ito, the same judge who presided over the OJ Simpson trial in Los Angeles.
Unlike a lot of other Brits who have done time in foreign prisons, especially US prisons and on release blown their experiences out to lure an audience with exaggerated tales, mine was a breeze. Accommodation was minimal as one would expect and the food dreadful, but it wasn’t a total nightmare. I was able to wear relatively nice comfy clothes, had my favorite perfumes and made sure I had tons of sexy Victoria Secret lingerie to make me feel human. I had all the books I could read, kept up my subscription for Vanity Fair and Rolling Stone, had a TV and CD player, even learned to play the guitar.
Still, I wouldn’t recommend it. Having your liberty taken away is very devastating, but I made the best of a bad situation.
California women’s prisons have changed a hell lot since the ’90′s, and women no longer are afforded the privileges (if you can call it that) I enjoyed.
But over a decade of being paranoid about undercover cops, trying to entrap my ladies and myself, undercover female cops trying to infiltrate my business as prospective escorts, always looking over my shoulder, having to live a double life, lying every day, not being able to trust people and the threat of going back to prison took its toll. I called it quits for a year and travelled.
When I tried to take up where I left off, I discovered I had lost the passion for it.
After a few scrapes and very stupid decisions… I decided I needed a break as well as to reassure my family I wouldn’t return to the UK in a body bag.
I flew out of LA on a relatively warm late November afternoon and arrived in London on a cold grey dark November morning. My sister and her husband were forced to stop at the fist decent fish and chip shop….. I knew I was back home.