What I can say is this: I'm 23 years old. I have a bachelors degree in bologna (of arts) from a liberal arts college. I have worked in exactly three careers: Janitorial, Theatrical and Medical. I ended up being fired from most of these positions, mostly with a sour taste left in my mouth. And not the good kind. So I started for looking for a job.
At first, I was looking for something that I could make more than $10 dollars an hour. That was laughable at the very least. The last job I held, I was an in home care taker for the developmentally disabled. The woman I took care of was in a wheel chair and would insult the living hell out of me. When I met her, the first time, I had shoulder length pink hair. She called me a dyke and wouldn't let me touch her... at all. So after ruining my hair a few more times with other colors, we finally settled on brown and she just went on to calling me such lovely titles as "fat bitch", "ho bag", "fucktard" and other such sweet nothings that left me wanting to punch something small and cute, just to ruin it. To be verbally abused for at least 8 hours a day, I got paid less than $10 bucks. I didn't last there long. I was "forced to resign", which anyone knows is a fancy way of getting fired without being able to collect unemployment, in January of 2012. I have been looking for work ever since, and it hasn't been easy. In this world, especially the smallish town I am blogging out of, no employer wants to spend the money to train you when they can easily find someone who already has the experience. Meaning my experience is limited to being abused by those who either honestly don't know better or cannot control themselves. No fucking way. Not again.
I applied to fast food joints. No response. Medical billing. No response. Medical receptionist. No response. A maid. No response. There was one place I could go... but in all honesty, since my BFF's boyfriend works there, I really didn't want to work there. I mean, he's a great guy, but that type of work, that type of environment and it was hard enough on our friendship when we were working for the same company on the same team with that same cold woman in the wheelchair. I couldn't imagine if all the sudden, I started spending more time with him than her. Talking to him instead of her. Anyway, that's not what this blog is about. Point is, I was running out of options. And then like a messenger from the heavens on a cloudy day, came my friend saying where she worked.
We were at the local watering hole, and I was halfway through my second double tequila seven, lamenting about my joblessness. She pulled me close and said, "I can get you a job." Of course my tipsy eyes turn into dinner plates and go "No way. What do you do?" She looked around and pulled in a little closer, "I'm a phone sex operator."
All the sudden my brain whirls at a million miles an hour, which was kind of disorienting with the tequila lubricating the spin. A sex phone operator... I thought. I'VE ALWAYS WANTED TO DO THAT.
Now, I wish I could tell you that it was all the tequila talking. I wish I could also tell you that I'm a 5'7" blonde, with blue eyes, D cups and weigh like 110. Both of those are lies. Don't get me wrong, I get my own booty on my own. When I was growing up, actresses were glamorous. Porn stars were infamous. Sex is the ultimate form of abandon, the ultimate form of degradation, the ultimate form of love. Whatever your definition, I'm sure people like Jenna Jameson and Carmen Electra pop into your head faster when sex is mentioned than Penelope Cruz or Cameron Diaz. I thought I would be such an awesome porn star if I could get the chance, but porn is no place for chubby girls. There was, of course, a second option. Cyberslut. You could look like whatever you described and no one was the wiser. Then I found the phone was the same way. I could do this.
So I called the number, I set up an interview and I met one of the owners of a company. Who just happened to be a chubby girl like me. As much as I was ready for this, I forgot about the enticement aspect of the job. I have to get these guys to want to call me, and apparently it's over the internet. I'm going out of town next weekend, so I can't start until June anyway, but I have homework. Not only do I have to write a graphically written bio about "myself" but I have to pick a new name and "model" to post on the site to entice these men. I have to go from being a jaded, sarcastic, cool chick, to the non-moody, perfect girl next door. So basically, what I am doing right now is writing a bio about myself and my sexuality (what I like and what I don't) and looking at porn to find a woman that I would like to represent in their imagination.
The only problem I've been having right now, at least with finding a model, is what my soon-to-be-new boss told me in my interview.
"If you're short, find someone short. You don't know what it's like to be tall and have sex. Same goes with boobs. You have small boobs, find someone who also has small boobs. You can't fake it, at least not realistically if you don't know what it's like."
So how am I supposed to phone with guys as a 150lb girl pretending to be 110lb?
I can write dirty things about myself. I can pretend to be into things I'm really not. I can get you off to the best of my cyber and phone ability. How am I supposed to pretend that fundamentally I'm someone else?
I knew this job would challenge me. I knew it would be mentally and emotionally taxing. I am hoping that this one hurtle alone will bring me an amount of strength that I have been missing for a long time. I'm not trying to get over an ex, or abuse, or sexual rejection. It's just sort of... odd. Maybe I'll be able to describe it as it comes.
Well... that's all for tonight.
Keep it sexy, guys!
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