Navigating Companionship as a Client of Color

Hopped on the Twitter machine earlier today and saw this post lingering:

It’s sad that some men have to ask if a provider will see their race. I couldn’t image having to deal with that type of discrimination. I can’t image why some ladies would deny a client based on race. Shit has got me fucked up 💔

— Emma Lee (@EmmaLee_Riley) September 6, 2018

I wrote a brief reply tweet, but thought that it was worth expanding my thoughts a bit.

I first started seeing providers as a client when I was in college in the mid 1990s. The small town that I went to school in had what was, for all intents and purposes, a brothel on the northern edge of town. I didn't know what it was at the time; I was a horny 18 and 19 year old when I learned about the place from the nascent internet and was riding my bike five miles one way to receive some companionship.

I was young and in much better shape, but I was also black. And in a rural college town, especially on the outskirts of said town, I still felt like I had to be careful. And I was always wary of possible rejection.