LOVE SCENE INVESTIGATION
I am a liberated female and I do not need a man. I work hard for long hours and have made Vice President at my firm. I tried Match.com and eHarmony but I’ll tell you what: for my time and money, escorts, vacation gigolos and booty calls work just fine. I occasionally need to get my groove on, so thankfully money is no object. Fancy industry party and no boyfriend? No problem. But instead of trying to jigger some milquetoast Ivy Leaguer into a real man, or rough-hewn union member into a “silk purse,” I can specify age, looks, education and intelligence. On the phone or Internet like lunch. Men have been doing it right for years. And ladies, ladies, ladies — you need to get hip. Order one up for yourself. I know, why should I pay for it when I can get it for free? Think of the money you waste on waxing, bars and internet dating services. Think how valuable your time is, how most dopes you date aren’t good enough for you anyway, how you’ve wasted emotion when you just needed a little? Why not order up a polite, incredibly attentive, good-smelling day player? And have him put it down just the way you like it? When I fly to Jamaica, the Dominican Republic or Bali, the young sexy locals know what’s up. Bam! you got a boy toy for the week. And unlike my ex who liked living in my house on my leather sectional and me picking up the tab, ain’t no big thang when I show the hirelings to the door.
My ex-husband Danny was from the old country. He really believed he, as the man, was in charge and wasn’t shy about making that clear with his fists. Or a hot spoon. So I work long hours and make good coin as a Registered Nurse. I own my own house in the suburbs of Arizona. So I’m a real woman and I left Danny on the other side of the country. But a real woman has needs. I don’t want a stepdaddy for my four kids since I never divorced their real father. I don’t need a johnny-come-lately husband to try and get his hands in my pockets. What I need is a live-in lover who will take care of my kids. Period. Yes, gals – I was recruiting the “manny,” that is, the male nanny. With benefits. And I’m such a female pimp that I got one for free. A down-on-his-luck brother named Todd who got laid off in the 2008 real estate meltdown. Got him to fall in love, move in, depend on me. Got him to help out around my house, drive my car and eat my food so I could make him believe he was getting over on me. Ha ha. With what I save by not hiring a nanny, the joke is really on his dumb ass. Getting up at dawn and shuttling the kids and me wherever we need to go tires him out so he can’t really go back to school or find a job. Out here in Arizona, even undocumented full-time babysitters cost $800 per week under the table. Mine just costs me food and gas money. Plus I get “benefits” without having to beg, cajole or compete with other women. A dependent man is a beautiful thing. When I get home, I lay down the law. I insist that Todd come “service” me so I can fall asleep. He cooks, he cleans, he does it all! He better if he wants to keep riding the gravy train. He is the best wife a woman ever had! And if he doesn’t cooperate, he gets the boot. But good help is so hard to find. He’s getting pouty lately and claims to be too tired to put out. Then I have to take the mind games to a new level and get showy with my “personal massage unit.” I mock him, saying, “I figured you weren’t gonna do anything so I had to take care of it myself!” That gets my point across. But lately I’ve had to amp up my warnings: “All I give a s*** about is you taking care of my four kids and giving me sex when I want it. So we gotta work on that.” He’ll stay in line if he knows what’s good for him.
Economic times are hard for a lot of folks and good as ever for the Haves. The Haves are seizing the moment to “have it their way” just like the old Burger King commercial.
Hiring a sex worker is a leap of faith so let the buyer beware. It’s a bit more dangerous for women of means since men are stronger. I can’t endorse this trade on principle but it’s a long-standing fact of human life that has really started being taken on by women druing the last few decades. If it’s not the unambitious boyfriend or husband, it’s gonna be the gigolo or the straight-up NSA hook-up or one night stand.
And that is some trusting, cavalier ish having a non-blood relative alone with your minor children. I guess it’s better than a stranger with no relationship ties at all. Or is it? Too many friends – guys and gals- have revealed their molestation tales.
Background checks. Making sure some trusted person knows where you are and who you are with. Surveillance. Trusting your intuition.
Laws and moral laws aren’t gonna make the sex trade go away.
And push-up bras and perfume aren’t gonna make every woman have the kind of man she desires. Still, she’s gotta have it.
As with all things, just use your head and be careful.