Gigolo in Brussels

The city where no one stands out

Brussels is the administrative heart of Europe, and you notice it in the population: civil servants, lobbyists, diplomats, expats, people who are here for a few years and then disappear. Of the million residents, a large share was born elsewhere.

For anyone who’d rather not be seen, that’s ideal. In the lobby of a Brussels hotel a guest checking in alone is so ordinary that no one looks.

From Amsterdam it’s about two hours, faster by train.

Two languages, and what that means for me

Brussels is officially bilingual. I speak Dutch, German and English; French I don’t, beyond a few pleasantries I get no further. In practice that’s never a problem in Brussels, because English works everywhere here and Dutch does across large parts of the city too.

If you want a conversation in French, I’m not your man. I’d rather say that up front than have you find out on the spot.

What we can do together

The Grand-Place, which despite all the photos still stops you for a moment. The Sablon with its antique shops. The Cinquantenaire park. Ixelles with its ponds and Horta’s art-nouveau facades. The Marolles on a Sunday morning for the flea market. And you can eat here at a level most Dutch cities don’t reach.

Or we skip all of it and just start somewhere quiet. That’s every bit as much an evening.

Who I come here for

For women who are here a few years for their work and at some point notice that their whole social life consists of colleagues. That happens faster than people think, and it never fully wears off.

Also for Dutch and Flemish women who live in or around the city. For women who are married and have waited years for a hand that rests on them with attention. Widows, for whom mourning and longing get in each other’s way.

As a couple it’s possible too. The overview is on my services.

Practical

Two hours’ drive, or shorter on the Thalys. The amount for travel costs you hear before we set anything, and nothing gets added to it afterward.

I charge nothing extra for the evening, the night, the weekend or a public holiday, and booking together costs the same as alone. Plan a week or two ahead, because during big summits the center locks down and hotel rooms are scarce.

Discretion in practice

From start to finish I’m the only one. No agency behind me, no go-between, no colleague reading along, no records where your name ends up. Messages I keep no longer than needed.

In a hotel I come in as an ordinary guest. No flowers, no greeting that turns the lobby’s head, and if you’d rather we met upstairs instead of downstairs, that’s what we do. At an address in the city the car stands where you want it. If you run into someone you know, then I’m whoever you say I am at that moment.

How a first meeting goes

It starts with a message: where you are, roughly what you’re looking for, when you’d be able to. You usually hear back quickly. After that we keep talking until it’s right for you, over the app or on the phone, whichever you find more comfortable.

On the day itself we take our time. For most women that beginning takes longer than they had thought beforehand, and that’s exactly right. You set the pace, even if it shifts halfway.

Changing your mind is allowed

Even if everything was already set and you cleared an afternoon for it. That’s no failure, and for me it’s no problem at all.

Meetings regularly go a different direction than planned. Sometimes calmer, sometimes the opposite. I have no stake in which direction that is, except that you look back on it well.

How it begins

Write me with where you live and which days you’d be able to. Two sentences are enough to begin.