When I was young, dumb and full o' cum, and had recently moved to NYC from the Midwest, I joined an escort agency. Well, I got the pager, changed my name and thought this'll be no problem. On my first call, I arrived at the guy's door and we chatted for a bit and I discovered he liked Shakespeare (English was my minor), so I kept him talking for an hour about William S., then said, "Well, my time's up. I have to go." When I got home, my phone was ringing and it was the owner of the agency who wasn't happy. Anyway, the next I turned in my pager and quit. Moral of the story? You can take the boy out of the country, but you can't take the country (in this case, Wisconsin) out of the boy...LOL.
Oh yeah, I also posed twice for two different men's mags, which is another story in itself. Needless to say, someone recognized me in my home town and blew the whistle on me by calling my folks in the middle of the night!! Shit, talk about embarassed...