Five years ago, Love Guv Eliot Spitzer resigned after being exposed as a client of the Emperors Club call-girl ring. But his wasn’t the only life turned upside down that day. In this essay from Vocativ, Valerie Baber, one of the club’s escorts, tells her story.
I had seen myself on TV before, but I had never seen my picture on the news. It was one thing to be a model or the face of a product. It was another to be one of the faces of a scandal.
It was 2008, and after nearly a year of surveillance, the FBI had brought down the Emperors Club escort agency, along with then-Gov. Eliot Spitzer, setting off a media tsunami that lasted for months — and swept me up with it. From the FBI pounding at my door to the exposure in the press, to the $25,000 fee paid to an attorney who would defend me for the unthinkable crime of having safe, consensual encounters with other adults, it was a life-changing experience for me.
There were moments when not knowing how to handle the sudden brush with infamy put me in a numb, emotionless void. And I often found myself in denial that it had ever even happened. I was just a nice girl from Oklahoma.
Of course, I also happened to be “the hooker named Raquel” who charged $1,500 an hour for her services. Depending on the client and the booking, I was also occasionally “Ashley” (Spitzer’s Ashley actually went by Kristen.) Raquel was the name featured in the news — the one a booker recommended to a client in the FBI’s affidavit as “beautiful, all-American, very clean, very fresh,” and to an undercover cop as “a little bustier on top.” Full story...
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I had seen myself on TV before, but I had never seen my picture on the news. It was one thing to be a model or the face of a product. It was another to be one of the faces of a scandal.
It was 2008, and after nearly a year of surveillance, the FBI had brought down the Emperors Club escort agency, along with then-Gov. Eliot Spitzer, setting off a media tsunami that lasted for months — and swept me up with it. From the FBI pounding at my door to the exposure in the press, to the $25,000 fee paid to an attorney who would defend me for the unthinkable crime of having safe, consensual encounters with other adults, it was a life-changing experience for me.
There were moments when not knowing how to handle the sudden brush with infamy put me in a numb, emotionless void. And I often found myself in denial that it had ever even happened. I was just a nice girl from Oklahoma.
Of course, I also happened to be “the hooker named Raquel” who charged $1,500 an hour for her services. Depending on the client and the booking, I was also occasionally “Ashley” (Spitzer’s Ashley actually went by Kristen.) Raquel was the name featured in the news — the one a booker recommended to a client in the FBI’s affidavit as “beautiful, all-American, very clean, very fresh,” and to an undercover cop as “a little bustier on top.” Full story...
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