May 16, 2026, Saturday.
Lebec, California.

Today, I convinced a married man who wanted to go to an escort not to go.

He was surprised too. Because he knows me as an escort addict, he questioned why I told him not to go.

I tried to explain it in an appropriate language. As far as I know, herpes is a disease that a condom cannot fully protect against. Moreover, situations leading to cervical cancer in women can occur, if I’m not mistaken.

Because I couldn’t just say, “Look, it will easily infect you, and then you will cause the death of your completely innocent wife,” I dragged it out.

I started by saying, “Herpes is what worries me the most.” “Because,” I said, “it’s not a situation for condoms. It’s the most common sexually transmitted disease. Also,” I said, “I’m scared what if there is a woman I truly love and I infect her.”

“What happens then?” he said. It served my purpose. So I explained cervical cancer and stuff. He understood that I was trying to explain these things politely because he is married. He thanked me as if I had turned him back from a terrible mistake.

“As if” is an understatement. I think it could be a terrible thing too.

I already somewhat believe that my father caught herpes too, passed it to my mother, and we had to have my mother’s uterus surgically removed because of this. I don’t have any proof. I just know that all men, including my father and me, are sons of bitches (beasts).

I didn’t become a white knight out of nowhere.