Save your money, women of America. The nation's first legal male prostitute just isn't worth it, writes New York Post dating columnist Mandy Stadtmiller. She flew to Vegas undercover for an encounter with "Markus" and left underwhelmed. Important caveat: She didn't have sex with the "dorky college dropout," settling instead for a long talk (in which he boasts of his ability to "pronunciate" words and compares himself to the composer "Choppin") and a massage. "It was like a bad second date. That cost $500."
She also had to endure a shower during which he examined her "like a second-rate gynecologist." And while he may be "very well-endowed," the overall package is wanting. "Markus has taught me so much," writes Stadtmiller. "About what a gigolo should never, ever, ever do." He prides himself on the "companionship" he provides and says he's a "surrogate lover," not a prostitute. "Sure Markus. Whatever gets you through the night."
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