Experience Description: When I arrived at the hotel, I called as she requested. Tho an hour and a half had passed since the appointment had been set, while I was on time, she was not ready and asked for a few more minutes to finish getting ready. A few more minutes apparently means over 15 in Ivy's world. By the time I finally did get the green light to head upstairs, I felt painfully conspicuous to whole world, including hotel security. When Ivy answered the door, I breathed a sigh of relief to be able to get behind closed doors. That relief soon vanished at the sight of a room cluttered and in shambles. While there was a narrow pathway of carpet leading to the bed, the rest of the room was covered with what I was told was art supplies, but looked like the world's largest junk drawer had exploded onsite. I reluctantly got comfortable, as did Ivy, and the session began. As Ivy went through the motions of her body rub routine, Her inability to focus or even to express a complete thought were also annoying indicators. This also explained why her photos don't show her face, as the toll there has obviously been a heavy one. And her service reflected her hazy, muddled state of mind, as she could only manage to work in fits and starts, pausing regularly to rant about yet another injustice on a long list of such, done to her by people who think she's stupid. Yeah, she said that. When the time came for me to turn over, the offer was made for full service, but after counting over a dozen open sores on her arms and face, I thought it best to pass. I was ready to leave WAY before I got off, dressed quickly, and left. From beginning to end, this was an experience I hope never to repeat again, and certainly won't with Ivy ever again.