Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Confessions of the World's Luckiest Prostitute
OK guys, you've found me out. In light of recent comments I've decided that I can't lie to you anymore, and I've decided to come clean.
I am in fact the worlds luckiest prostitute.
So now that I have nothing to hide anymore, I've decided to share with you guys the Gawds honest truth about what REALLY goes on around here. Here goes...
This morning I came to work about an hour late. There were already a couple of guys waiting outside, but I decided to sit down to an hour of TV just so I could relax and enjoy my coffee in peace. After an hour of news, sports, and weather, I opened up the front door and let in the guy with the most expensive car. The others I told to come back when they could afford something manufactured during a year that begins with a "2."
"Richard" owns his own bank, and stops by once a month to dump what he calls "tarp" money on me (I don't know - it looks like normal money to me). He asks for a mutual massage, but I tell him I'm feeling a bit under the weather, so would he mind just massaging me? He ends up doing a very nice job, and I make him spend extra time on my feet. When he's finished and ready for his happy ending, I tell him that I just did my nails and would he mind taking care of himself?
I left the room so he could finish his own happy ending without me distracting him, pausing just long enough to grab the pile of bills he left for me. As I'm counting my money, I thank Gawd for giving me a vagina and a sense of entitlement.
Richard only killed 15 minutes of my day, so I settle in for some SERIOUS TV watching. As Oprah comes on, I turn the phone off and lock the front door. As I'm closing the front shades, I tell the 3 guys standing outside to go jerk off in their cars and just leave the money under the door.
3 hours later and I'm ready for lunch! Sitting down really makes you hungry. So as I'm walking out the front door, I bump into "Fred" - a rather nice mortgage broker who used to fly in by helicopter before the economy tanked. Now he takes the limo like everyone else.
Fred asks if we can do a quick session, but I really can't give a proper handjob without lobster in my stomach. He looks really disappointed and is about to leave when I ask him if he has masturbated lately.
He looked confused and then admitted to whacking it about twice a week since our last session. I then convinced him that since I have a vagina, he's technically been taking work away from me each time he jerks off. And since that's money that should have gone to me, he therefore owes me a cut of each of those whack jobs. At first, he has trouble seeing the logic in this, but since I have enormous breasts he eventually agrees to pay me ten bucks for each time he jacked off since his last visit.
I happily thank him as he empties his wallet, then I give him a hug - as a token of my affection. Hey, I can't let him go home empty handed now could I? That's called good customer service. But now he has no money for another session, so I tell him to come back after he finds an ATM.
With that extra wad of cash, I decided to go for a nice sit down lunch downtown - where I can watch all the poor working stiffs going back and forth between their "jobs." As I'm downing my 3rd glass of port, I almost feel sorry for men and their penises - having to make up for their lack of a vagina with 4 years of college. Suckers.
I thank Jesus for not giving me a penis nor any discernable math skills. I'm so lucky that it's a woman's world and we get to make up all the rules, else I might actually have to work for a living. I think of how lucky my sister crack-whores are... men can't even drive past them on the street without offering them money! Now that's what I call respect. And here I am having to drive to work everyday...
After my 2 hour lunch, I start to miss the comfort of a warm television, so I head back to work. There are 4 guys standing out front when I arrive, but they can wait because now it's time to catch up on my Stories! I find the spot on the couch that has my ass imprint and settle in for 4 hour of soap operas. The phone rings more times than I care to remember. I consider changing the answering machine message to tell guys to just mail the money in, but realize I have to move to do it.
My mind starts to wander after 4 hours of TV, which is the price you pay for being so intellectual. I remember that the rent is due next week, so I better end the day with another customer. I praise Jesus for all my lady parts which entitle me to free money and television. Then I praise Baby Jesus for making men work so hard to give us money and television.
I make my way to the front door and see 6 men standing in line to get in. I open the door and greet their eager faces. I'm feeling generous so I yell "Ok, who here has more than 6 years of college?" Five dejected faces look down. "You there, the skinny one - you win the lottery. Let's go. The rest of you Johnny Punchclocks - go back to school."
My last customer of the day is "Andy." He's a doctor. With 8 years of school, he's either really envious of my vagina, or he's making up for a very small penis. But I figure that since he went to school for sooooooo long in order to afford my attention, I'll give him the benefit of the doubt.
We get into session and... it's the latter. Sorry Albert. I explain to him my pricing and options. Since he's on a budget, he opts for the disinterested handjob while I daydream about Oprah. There's a slight chill in the room, so I tell him if it's all the same I'm just going to leave all my clothes on. He begins to protest that he paid for a nude massage, but I inform him he should have thought about that before the room got chilly.
Halfway through the massage I take a phone call from my boyfriend. "Oh nothing dear... I'm just in the middle of tapping the ATM for spending money." After a half hour of other romantic exchanges, I turn my attention back to Albert who's fallen asleep.
"Wake up Al. You're done."
He looks confused. "What happened?" he manages.
"I sucked your dick and swallowed your manly load. You're a stud. Now get up and get outta here."
Albert dresses and I walk him to the door. "Did I enjoy it?" he asks.
"Oh Albert - you loved it. Thrashed around and everything." I give him a big hug. I figure it's the least I could do for paying my rent for 2 months. "Keep studying!" I call out to him as he makes his way to the parking lot.
My day is now over. I figure I can squeeze in a couple more hours of TV watching before I head home to watch more TV.
And that my friends is my REAL typical day. I'm sorry that I lied to you guys for 2 years now, but I didn't think anyone would care to hear about how truly lucky I am to have a vagina.