2003-08-19 - 9:48 p.m.
working phone sex was one-hundred percent messed up.
it was kinda awesome in a way, but sometimes it was kinda dumb. like, the guys were spending tons of money to talk to us, but at the same time they were cheap as all hell.
for example- we were allowed to "sell our underwear", and we were allowed to sell them for as much as we wanted. some girls were just shady, and could get CRAZY amounts of money for underwear. i was never really into selling underwear. it was kinda a pain in the ass. you have to go to target and buy some underwear, and then you had to dirty them and pack them up and sell them.
there are many ways to dirty up a pair of underwear. the easiest and fastest way is to just keep them in your bathroom, and when you make a tinkle, you use them to wipe. ta-da! some girls got kinda into it, and they had a special recipe to make their underwear dirty. this is the recipe.
the water that is in cans of tuna
you mix it all together, and paint it on the crotch. evidently, it mimicks crotch funk perfectly.
one day i got to work, and some guy who called me all the time had sent me a check for a pair of underwear. he never asked me if he could, or how much i wanted for them. he only sent 20 bucks. now, that was not worth my time in the least. selling underwear for less than 50 bucks is for suckers.
so i was kinda ticked, but he had already sent the money, so i was kinda stuck. luckily, my mom, who is incapable of buying things for me, had just bought me a pair of silk (yuck) underwear that were a size 0 or something. i was never gonna get my butt into them.
so i propositioned my friend frank. i offered him something, which may or may not have been a joint, to dirty up my underwear for me. it was on.
he wore them for two days. he wore them walking around town, riding his bike, sitting on the couch. i am pretty sure he wiped with them. then, after he finally took them off, he indulged in a little self-love and left the results in the crotch of those dirty dirty underwear. then he double-bagged them in some ziplocs, and gace them back to me. i stuffed them in an envelope and sent them off.
the guy called me at work immediately when he got them in the mail. oh, he was loving it. he kept on asking me what he should do with them...
"what should i do with them?"
i tried to tell him what to do with them, but he kept wanting more. smell them, rub them on your thing, put them on, throw them across the room and then go get them and throw them again. he kept wanting more and more. i just didn't want to go where i knew he wanted to go. but he kept begging...
"what else should i do with them?"
i gave in. it was the worst possible thing for me to do. but then i just did it. i made him do what he should have never ever done.
"why don't you eat all the crust out of them?"
and he did. i could hear the fabric rubbing up against the mouthpiece of the phone. he kept saying how awesome it was. then he was done and hung up.
i still think about it sometimes and wanna puke. but i think i did what was right.