So I’m at a bus stop in the dead of the night and this smoker strikes up a conversation with me. I’m telling him about my plight and failure to find a job. He says “you have a lovely voice, you don’t talk black, have you ever considered phone sex operator?”
If I had a dime for every time someone tells me I don’t “talk black,” I seriously wouldn’t need a fucking job! Speaking of dime, “dime” I am not face-wise. If I was, then I wouldn’t be in this damned predicament. I would be a model at 15, a video whore, a basketball wife or whatever. My blank face somehow invites them to speak to me, unfortunately. My body is for sure the main thing attracting the shit out of creeps. Even when shielded in a trench coat.
I recommend having earphones on to ignore and drown out the noise of strangers who talk to you at night. Better yet start talking to yourself to scare them away. (More on what happened later that fateful night from when I encountered the worst creep of all in another post, I’ll call him “Chiraq.” But now, back to “Tom”–the nice older smoker who’s complimenting me.)
He’s telling me he knows a woman the size of a bus who makes loads from phone sex. “About 3K a month, so [I] could make a killing,” he says. Tempting. But nah. I didn’t even have a working phone at that moment.
As I indulge him in the fantasy, I ask what would I–what does she tell the IRS? He retorts customer service.
He then recommends webcam modeling.
Nice to know I have a body for webcam, and a voice for phone sex. In real life I’m not associated with verbal communication–rather, I’m known to be very quiet, reserved and private. Tom then tells me my soft voice would make it so much hotter.
In truth, I just don’t think I could do it. No matter how much money, I just imagine some bastard taking a screenshot or video of his laptop of every webcam model who strips nude for him. Who knows if there would be audio recordings of my voice somewhere performing a phone sex-role-play just waiting in the wings to turn my life and career upside down.
I know what you’re thinking….what career? I know, smart-ass! Future career. Doesn’t matter what it is–and I’m not going into politics but– there’s always someone out there digging and digging and ready to find something you want buried. And then there’s blackmail, extortion, embarrassment, damaged reputations. *Sigh* and then there’s the shovel, the duct tape, the lye and prison sentence. I just won’t bother.
Phone sex is anonymous though, you say? You can always disguise your voice and be anyone you want to be, you say? Yeah, yeah… I’ll think about it. I’ve thought about it. Nope!
There’s just got to be another way to get through this slump!