So we’re going to file this under ‘things that only happen to me’. Most of it is true. Names will be changed, but not so much to protect anyone as I just can’t ever remember anyone’s name. I’m leaving out the name of the company I work for. I love this job, and my want to keep it outweighs my general need to be as painfully honest as possible.

Damn. I must really love this job.

Anyhow, this latest little adventure in my life started on Monday. It was a fairly normal day at work. I was binding and typing some documents for a project submission, and the pre-bills were coming in over my email, promising a VERY busy week.

Sometime in the afternoon, My Boss had a big Township meeting. I knew this not because he had told me, but because people had started showing up for it. The first man that came in is Substitute Lawyer. Apparently, the lawyer that they usually deal with had a conflict. So, good little receptionist that I am, I asked him if he’d like any coffee.

“Coffee would be great,” he answered. Fuck.

Forget that I’m terrible at making coffee for other people. See, we don’t have a regular coffee maker. We have this awesome little set up that makes one cup at a time with these cool little single serve coffee K-cups that look like oversized creamers. You put one in the maker, it pops holes in it, runs the hot water through, and POOF! The most fun to play with caffeine delivery system ever. This is the entertainment of the office set. It rocks. It’s also upped my coffee/tea intake from 1 or 2 cups weekly to 2 or 3 cups DAILY. However, as we have about 10 different coffee and tea flavors to choose from, it’s not as though I can just ask how many creams and sugars and go one my little way.

So, I lead Substitute Lawyer into the kitchenette and let him know how the maker works. As he was the first one who had arrived and I wasn’t sure where My Boss has wondered off to, I chatted a little to keep him company. Just something about the weather, nothing big.

“Do you do any modeling?” He asked.
I was eye rolling on the inside. As though I hadn’t heard that one before. But I was working. So I had to be nice.
“I do, actually. Mostly promotional. I’ve done some Bud Girl stuff and I work ground crew for WMMR.”
“Oh, like Preston and Steve, yeah, that’s why you look familiar. You definitely have the personality for it,” he told me.
“Yeah, they’re great guys.” It’s my standard answer, but they really are.
“Have you ever done any foot work? Like shoe modeling?” He asked, “I do a lot of side work with stores on South Street and we do a lot of shows, we’re always looking for girls.”
Okay. That’s a new question. I’m wearing bump toe boots I got from the Target girls section, so it’s not like I’m in anything sexy or even foot-revealing. Truth is however, I had looked into foot modeling (I have very cute feet), but foot models usually do a lot of parts modeling – hands and legs and arms, etc. I’m too short for legs, my hands are far more function than form, not to mention I HATE fake fingernails.
“I’ve thought about it, but usually the sizes required are way bigger than my feet. What sizes do you usually look for?” Even for my height, my feet are freakishly small.
“Anywhere from 5 ½ to 9,” He offered. Well, that works. I can pull off a 5 ½, and I love the crazy hooker shoes that they sell on South Street. I’d model them in a second. When he went on to inform me that they usually pay about $100 - $150 a gig to do it, of course I was interested.

Other people were beginning to arrive, so I didn’t want to talk about it any further. I wrote down my website and cell phone number for him, and told him to let me know the next time a show was coming up.

He went about his business, and I mine. I was a little worried that My Boss had heard some of our conversation and might have had a problem with me bringing up the modeling or my promotions work in the office. I’m not a porn star, but that doesn’t necessarily make this stuff proper in a professional environment.

A few hours later, while I was still at work, I got a call on my cell phone from Substitute’s Partner. We’re going to call him Phone Guy, since that is how I’ve only ever talked to him. He said he had checked out my website and likes my look. He wanted to talk more, but I was already worried from earlier, so I definitely wasn’t going to be setting up outside promotions while on company time. I let him know he can call me back after five.

As a side note, a little while later My Boss came into the reception area and made a comment about Substitute Lawyer. Apparently, he’s one of those guys who’s ‘into everything’, and wouldn’t shut up about it. I came clean about him offering me work as a foot model, and My Boss just laughed and agreed that $100 would be a nice paycheck, so I should go for it. I really love this job.

So, Phone Guy called while I was on my way home from work.

I feel the need to admit at this point that Phone Guy is a big reason that I’m not using any names. This is already my second conversation, and there will be three more, with increasing intimacy. I honestly for the life of me, even though he introduced himself twice and I ASKED him one other time, can not remember this guy’s name.

During the longer conversation, I found out that there’s a lot more going on here than foot modeling. These ‘shows’, are for fetishists. I was still a bit open to the idea. I like to try new things. I certainly don’t find feet sexy. If someone else wants to drool over my little toesies in a group environment, and pay me well to do it, fine. I’m poor. Phone guy picks up on this angle and starts really pushing the ‘real money’ opportunities, like private parties. At no point was I interested in doing private parties. I’m smarter than that. I’m little and it would be easy to hide the dismembered body parts.

After we talk for awhile, he told me that I have a great voice, and asked if I’d be interested in doing phone work. As in, would I like it if a client called me two or three times a week and plays with himself while I talk dirty to him? He told me about one client who just likes to be humiliated and berated while he doodles his noodle, and he pays about $50 for a 5 minute phone conversation. Three times a week, that’s a nice chunk of free money, all of which would go straight to my paypal account through Phone Guy and Substitute Lawyer’s company, so to this guy I’d just be an anonymous voice on the phone.

Okay. All I heard was $50 for a 5 minute phone conversation. That becomes $50 three times a week and would be $150 in my pay pal account, tax free. Multiply that by four, and I was looking at about $600 extra residual income a month – to call a guy a loser while he waxes the bat, and I wouldn’t even have to lie to him. I would be a liar if I told you that in that moment I didn’t consider it. And you’d be a liar if you told me you wouldn’t consider it either. Phone Guy wanted to set up some sort of phone audition, which he promised he would pay for. I was pretty weirded out at that point, and I was standing outside on my porch freezing my tits off, so I told him that I wanted to think about it, and asked him to call me back in a few days. He offered to call me back Tuesday morning, but I told him it wouldn’t be good, because it was Election Day and I had to vote. I hung up, figuring maybe I will do the foot party thing if it comes up, but I’m too much of a giggler to pull off being a dominatrix of any sort.

Tuesday morning I stopped at Rillings Bakery, because that’s where my polling station is. I know I looked all socially responsible up in the last paragraph, but the truth is that I probably wouldn’t vote if it wasn’t an excuse to buy cookies. So I get my vote on, purchase two dozen sugar cookies from the woman who was my boss at Headline Promotions. I tried unsuccessfully to say hi. She was busy pretending not to know who I was, by starting awkward loud conversation with the other girl behind the counter. I always knew that bitch hated me. Then I voted for a republican mayor. Already it was an odd morning.

On the stairs in my office building, my phone rings. I think it’s an extra special tidbit to know that the following conversation began with my ‘Sesame Street Martians Discover the Telephone’ ring tone. Uh huh.

So I answered, and it was Phone Guy. He asked if I had a few minutes, and I wanted to let him know I’d thought about it, and I was really only interested in the foot show thing. But he has other things on his mind.
“Do you want to make some money right now?” He asks. I’m caught completely off guard.
“Oh. Um, I just got into work. I can’t really TALK talk, you know?”
“Yeah? Did you think about what we talked about last night?”
“I did, actually. And . . .”
“Did it make you happy, thinking about all the money you could make?”
“Uh, sure.” I said, TRYING to stay cheerful, but vague. My Boss was within earshot, and I’m not comfortable about being on my cell phone at work. Remember, the night before, he made it out that he had CLIENTS that liked this stuff, not that he was going to be a paying customer. So at this point, I was still assuming he wanted to set up a time when I can ‘audition’, for lack of a better word. I tried to explain to him that I did not want to get into that at work.
“You’ve got a great voice. Do you like knowing how hot it’s making me right now?” He done launched right into it! I was totally taken aback, but I didn’t want him to know it, so I tried to play along.
“Yeah, a little.” I said, in my cheery cute voice. Then I walked to the back kitchen and put my Lean Cuisine into the freezer.
“Tell me how hot it makes you,” He said.
“Dude, I can’t. I’m at WORK. People can hear me.” I said. He grunted. I’m not kidding.

This about where I realized this phone diva shit wasn’t going to work. I was standing in the middle of my office. This strange guy was grunting at me on my cell phone, and all I could think about was if My Boss was going to be angry that I was on my cell phone. This wasn’t hot. It was boring and gross. I was actually pretty disgusted and fighting the urge not to laugh at this loser as he grunted away in my ear.

“Tell me what you’re wearing.”
“Just a sweater and pants.”
“Is it a tight sweater? Is it low cut so people can see those big, high breasts of yours?”
“Well, no dude, I’m at WORK.” See what I mean about always being honest?
“Oh, so you like to hide them, then. You like to be unattainable, right?” Moan.
“Yeah, unattainable.” I wondered if he could hear the coffee machine. I walked back around to my desk and stared forlornly at my cherry danish. “Listen, I really can’t do this here.”
Moan. “You want me to finish.”
Dear fucking god, please yes, yes, let this insanity end. “Go for it, buddy.”
“Would that make you hot, knowing that you’re making me come?” Moan. “Would it? Thinking about all that money in your bank account?” He asked. I opened my AOL account.
“Um hmmm. Sure.” I was trying to be polite.

This guy was aurally assaulting me while I was at work, groaning away with his dick in his hand, and I was trying to be polite. If there was an award for being too nice of a person, I’d have fucking ten of them.

So, he finally makes his mess and hangs up. He texted me wanting to do it again, and offered to make my paypal an ‘even hundred’ for two more minutes. He even suggested that I sneak off to the bathroom. I turned him down. I was stunned and creeped out, and I really just want to distract myself with work. After telling him ‘no’ a zillion times, I finally got him to leave me alone.

Tuesday comes to a close. PayPal balance: Zero.

He called my cell phone again Wednesday morning, twice on my way to work, but I didn’t answer. I was hoping he’d take the hint. He texted me with a “???” but I didn’t return it.
My Boss was out for the morning, but there are still a lot of people in my office. One of the other guys needed me (with permission) to go into My Boss’s office and look up an email address on his computer. Even though I knew it was okay, I’m never comfortable being in anyone else’s space when they’re not there, especially a boss. I think it’s called having respect for people, or something.
While I was in his office, the phone rang. I answer it as I always do . . . and it’s Phone Guy! He’s calling me AT WORK, on my WORK PHONE. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!
He asked where I was that morning, and I gave him some bullshit line about forgetting my cell phone that morning. He apologized for not transferring the money the day before, something about having a really busy crazy day at the office. Yeah, well, join the club. He promised he would transfer it over as soon as he could, and that he’d like to set up a time to talk to me again. I brushed him off again, telling him I was in My Boss’s office, and this really wasn’t appropriate.

He hung up. I freaked out a little. Wednesday passed, and my PayPal balance was still zero. I wondered if running a K-Cup of bleach through the coffee maker and drinking it scalding hot would clean out the dirty I was feeling on the inside.

Thursday he leaves me alone. I thought maybe he picked up on my tone, and he wasn’t going to bother me again. I wasn’t at all into our whack session, so maybe he was thinking I sucked at it, and that was fine with me. My PayPal stayed empty, but I was glad he wasn’t calling, and I was hoping he had found another girl more into his activities.
I am not that lucky. On my way to work on Friday, my phone went off two more times. I ignored him both times. Another “??” text, to which I responded:

‘I’ve decided to ignore u. The whole phone thing didn’t really do anything for me and I didn’t like being called at work. Plus, u lied about the paypal thing, so that pretty much just makes you a creep.’

Okay, so maybe I’m not always so nice.

He called me again. AT WORK! The caller ID was Substitute Lawyer’s office, and I was really starting to wonder if this was really a ‘partner’, or actually Substitute Lawyer himself pretending to be two guys. Weird enough, but at that point in my week, anything was possible. I HAD to answer, so I did.

“Look, I’ll send the PayPal to you right now; I was trying to give you the opportunity to make it a bigger transfer.” He sounds really pathetic, and maybe even a little hurt, so I almost felt bad.
“No thanks, that’s okay.”
“I really think you should consider this. You were very good,” he said. Seriously? I was making coffee and checking my email the whole time. He can’t judge a woman’s interest level at ALL. I bet this guy sucks in bed.
“It just wasn’t that interesting. But I don’t want to talk about it. I’m not comfortable with you calling me at work, it’s inappropriate.”
“Well, I considered that it was okay, since this is business.”
“It has nothing to do with THIS business, so it’s not okay.” I told him.
“Well, I really wish you’d reconsider. We’re talking $7000 a year for less than an hour of work every week.”
“Look, I’ll think about it. If you need to get in touch with me, just send me an email or something. I have to go. It’s busy here today.”
“Well, okay. I’ll send that PayPal right over, I promise.” Awww. He sounded so sad.
“K. Thanks. Bye.” I hung up. JUST as My Boss walks into the room. Oh. My. God.

What did I get myself into??

Friday PayPal balance - $50.00.

I am officially a whore. Discuss. Yip Yip Yip.

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