You know...
...I don’t know how younger, less experienced women survive on this planet. I’m a bright woman (or so I thought), but I almost walked into a situation that would have been scary at best and dangerous at worst.
You know that Rent-A-Wife ad I placed? I showed you a few of the responses that I received, those were some of the blatant men who thought that I was referring to the wifely duties that one doesn’t discuss in public. At least they were up front about what they wanted.
But the guy who told me that he had been injured and needed his home to be straightened and his injuries to be massaged almost got me. Then, when I agreed to do it, he sent me one last email with his address and one more little chore:
I do want you to know that when I fell (only 4 rungs thank heavens) I managed to straddle a 2x4 between my legs. It did help break my fall somewhat but left my groin area bruised and sore. The bruises are pretty well gone but I still have some soreness that I rub with Aloe Vera gel as best I can. Help in that area would be appreciated.
Isn’t that creative? So, the man who didn’t need me until after he went to work and was plainly able to type these emails, can’t rub his own balls with aloe vera. Now, I’m a nurse and I have applied medications ORDERED BY A DOCTOR to a few private areas in my day. I have no problem with that and to tell you the truth, the men are always embarrassed when I have to do things like that. No honorable man would WANT a strange woman to rub his genitals with an over the counter lotion, aloe vera or something purchased at some sex store. So, I quit before I even got started. I’ll clean your house for 20 bucks an hour but if I have to act as a hooker, I wouldn’t be able to do it for less than a few grand. I need help with the rent, but I wouldn’t rob a bank and I wouldn’t start a career as a hooker at my age either.
I did get an email more along the lines of what I was discussing:
I am seeking a responsible, loving, organized nanny for two little girls—who can also prepare meals and keep the house under control each day. This position is M-F 2:30-8:30 and requires reliable transportation for picking up from school and transporting to activities.
But I can’t commit myself to those hours everyday until I am done with the chemo.
It’s amazing how many men are so blatantly horny that they have no problem asking a complete stranger to do some of the things that men have asked me to do in the past year. Between the bums who want to have sex on the first date and the poor injured fool who wants me to play with his balls, I’m about ready to turn nun. If I didn’t have a few desires of my own, I would seriously consider the nunnery thing.
All of these experiences contributed to a nightmare that I had last night. I dreamt that Rick and I went to the store and I waited out in the car. When I was sitting there waiting for Rick to come out of the store, two men with guns got in the car and drove away with me in the backseat with one of the men. (I guess Rick left the keys in the car.) It was one of those realistic dreams where I was actually thinking about the best way to get out of the situation alive. Every cop we passed waved at me when I looked at them and mouthed “Help!” The guy in the backseat had a gun on me and I asked him nicely if he would point it up instead of at my face. He said he would. Then the gun disappeared and his penis was sticking up out of his pants instead. Jeez, a psychiatrist would have a field day with that dream.
I don’t know how younger, less experienced women keep their virtue intact. I went out with one guy who turned out to be a creep and I did what I do when I find myself in danger of being molested by some freak, I tell them that I want to shoot pool and have them take me to a place where I know most of the people. Then, I find a friend and tell them that I have to ditch a dude so we just briskly walk out and I get a ride back to my car. Thank God for friends.
I fell asleep yesterday afternoon and slept for so long that when I woke up at 2 am, I couldn’t fall back to sleep. I just decided to clean house and now I’m done. I wish the sun would come up so that I could feel like I’m supposed to be awake.
Well, now I’m 4 days late on the rent and I have no clue what I’m supposed to do...maybe I should call the sore ball dude and ask for more money...ya think? I’ve rubbed my share of balls in the past, how bad could it be? Ooh, I shouldn’t even ask, I have seen some freaky nuts in my day. Usually those guys are in the hospital but they must go home at some point. Of course, the guy who wants me to clean house in the nude was willing to pay more...but he also wanted to know what he could “touch”. I think that would officially make me a hooker and I like being able to say that I am not, nor have I ever been, a whore. But, I bet there are chicks laughing all the way to the bank who think I’m being ridiculous, but damn, I would heave all over any dude I didn’t care about. Isn’t that odd? The man’s body is gross, gross, gross if I don’t care about them but if I do, I couldn’t keep my hands off of them.
I suppose if I drank, it would be a lot easier, but it’s not worth the hangover.
Damn my morals.
Meg
...I don’t know how younger, less experienced women survive on this planet. I’m a bright woman (or so I thought), but I almost walked into a situation that would have been scary at best and dangerous at worst.
You know that Rent-A-Wife ad I placed? I showed you a few of the responses that I received, those were some of the blatant men who thought that I was referring to the wifely duties that one doesn’t discuss in public. At least they were up front about what they wanted.
But the guy who told me that he had been injured and needed his home to be straightened and his injuries to be massaged almost got me. Then, when I agreed to do it, he sent me one last email with his address and one more little chore:
I do want you to know that when I fell (only 4 rungs thank heavens) I managed to straddle a 2x4 between my legs. It did help break my fall somewhat but left my groin area bruised and sore. The bruises are pretty well gone but I still have some soreness that I rub with Aloe Vera gel as best I can. Help in that area would be appreciated.
Isn’t that creative? So, the man who didn’t need me until after he went to work and was plainly able to type these emails, can’t rub his own balls with aloe vera. Now, I’m a nurse and I have applied medications ORDERED BY A DOCTOR to a few private areas in my day. I have no problem with that and to tell you the truth, the men are always embarrassed when I have to do things like that. No honorable man would WANT a strange woman to rub his genitals with an over the counter lotion, aloe vera or something purchased at some sex store. So, I quit before I even got started. I’ll clean your house for 20 bucks an hour but if I have to act as a hooker, I wouldn’t be able to do it for less than a few grand. I need help with the rent, but I wouldn’t rob a bank and I wouldn’t start a career as a hooker at my age either.
I did get an email more along the lines of what I was discussing:
I am seeking a responsible, loving, organized nanny for two little girls—who can also prepare meals and keep the house under control each day. This position is M-F 2:30-8:30 and requires reliable transportation for picking up from school and transporting to activities.
But I can’t commit myself to those hours everyday until I am done with the chemo.
It’s amazing how many men are so blatantly horny that they have no problem asking a complete stranger to do some of the things that men have asked me to do in the past year. Between the bums who want to have sex on the first date and the poor injured fool who wants me to play with his balls, I’m about ready to turn nun. If I didn’t have a few desires of my own, I would seriously consider the nunnery thing.
All of these experiences contributed to a nightmare that I had last night. I dreamt that Rick and I went to the store and I waited out in the car. When I was sitting there waiting for Rick to come out of the store, two men with guns got in the car and drove away with me in the backseat with one of the men. (I guess Rick left the keys in the car.) It was one of those realistic dreams where I was actually thinking about the best way to get out of the situation alive. Every cop we passed waved at me when I looked at them and mouthed “Help!” The guy in the backseat had a gun on me and I asked him nicely if he would point it up instead of at my face. He said he would. Then the gun disappeared and his penis was sticking up out of his pants instead. Jeez, a psychiatrist would have a field day with that dream.
I don’t know how younger, less experienced women keep their virtue intact. I went out with one guy who turned out to be a creep and I did what I do when I find myself in danger of being molested by some freak, I tell them that I want to shoot pool and have them take me to a place where I know most of the people. Then, I find a friend and tell them that I have to ditch a dude so we just briskly walk out and I get a ride back to my car. Thank God for friends.
I fell asleep yesterday afternoon and slept for so long that when I woke up at 2 am, I couldn’t fall back to sleep. I just decided to clean house and now I’m done. I wish the sun would come up so that I could feel like I’m supposed to be awake.
Well, now I’m 4 days late on the rent and I have no clue what I’m supposed to do...maybe I should call the sore ball dude and ask for more money...ya think? I’ve rubbed my share of balls in the past, how bad could it be? Ooh, I shouldn’t even ask, I have seen some freaky nuts in my day. Usually those guys are in the hospital but they must go home at some point. Of course, the guy who wants me to clean house in the nude was willing to pay more...but he also wanted to know what he could “touch”. I think that would officially make me a hooker and I like being able to say that I am not, nor have I ever been, a whore. But, I bet there are chicks laughing all the way to the bank who think I’m being ridiculous, but damn, I would heave all over any dude I didn’t care about. Isn’t that odd? The man’s body is gross, gross, gross if I don’t care about them but if I do, I couldn’t keep my hands off of them.
I suppose if I drank, it would be a lot easier, but it’s not worth the hangover.
Damn my morals.
Meg
posted by Meg Kelso | 4:07 AM
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