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Lena's Journal

How I Read People

The first few minutes of a conversation tell me almost everything. Why I answer some enquiries warmly, others only once, and what I think of men who cannot hear a no.

Monday morning, the weekend's emails. I read them slowly, with coffee, and after the second sentence I usually know how the rest will go.

It comes down to small things. A man who introduces himself has something in mind. A man who asks about the price first and the discount right after is looking for something different from the one who wants to know what his evening will look like. And someone who sends his phone number and the hotel, floor included, without being asked has understood what we are about. That has nothing to do with mistrust. It is safety, and it starts with him.

Then there are the others. The email at half past two in the morning that needs an answer immediately. The third message before the first reply could even arrive. And the request to keep it shorter, because he is in a hurry. Our two-hour minimumis not up for negotiation. It never was. Someone who cannot accept that usually struggles with the rest as well. Whether the enquiry is for Karlsruhe, Baden-Baden or Stuttgart makes no difference.

I answer once. Friendly, clear, with no explanation anyone could pick apart. If a counteroffer follows, or a nudge, or a "don't be so difficult", the matter is closed for me. No anger, no debate. The door simply closes, quietly.

That sounds strict, but it is the heart of what I do for our ladies. A lady who joins us should be able to rely on the fact that no man reaches her who has not already learned, with me, how to hear a no. I read the men so that the ladies do not have to.

Sometimes I am wrong. That bothers me less than letting in one man too many. A courteous man can take a brief follow-up question. He answers without taking offence, and from there it usually goes very well.

Anyone who enquires at PURE is read by me, whether he likes it or not. I consider that part of the contract, even though nobody ever signs it.

Discreetly yours, 
Lena