Onesie: Just put 'em in one and tell him a story

Occupy got to witness a great caller I had last night.


"This is ______ how are you doing?"
"I just took my bath because I wet myself."
"Did you now?"
"uh-haaaan uh. I had to take a bath because I wet the bed."
"You did! Well are you all cleaned up now."
"Yes Ma'am." (al lot of stuttering) "Because I wet the bed."


And the conversation devolves from there.


The call last about 30 minutes. There's a lot of baby talk involved, lots of wet slobbery kisses and phone zerberts on fake tummies. Tickles and a very nice man are discussed. I even get a fake picture painted by a little kid (this kid is probably 50 years old). The point is there is an entire world created to make my caller safe enough to live out his fantasy. I'm not going to judge and I'm not going to criticize. I'll leave that for the real world.


Occupy on the other hand was slightly disturbed. I used the same voice I save for talking to Chewy on my caller through out the conversation. I even talk to Chewy while on this call because, well because Chewy was sitting right there. Chewy can't tell that I'm not talking to him.  But he's a dog, Occupy, a full grown human, can understand that my caller just decided that he wants to wear a onesie.


Not just any onesie, not I'm talking the onesie you put on little babies the one with the snaps at the crotch. These are the ones that have extra spacing to accommodate a super bulky diaper. Then it's pink like cotton candy pink with little sheep on it.


We go the process of putting said onesie on and my caller is over the moon about it. We go through each little snap and I even play with his feet a little. Like I said I make an entire world, and he thanks me profusely when he hangs up.




I asked Occupy what he thought about my job. if you can imagine deadpan, think of the most dead pan person you know and say, "well my horizon's been broadened." I asked if his concept of sexuality has been expanded by listening to my calls, and I got another dead pan yes. Then I asked him if he had any favorites. For this he got super animated, then he said the coke head.


Let me explain the coke head (very briefly). A few days ago I got a caller who asked me if I liked to party. Like any good phone wh*re I said yes. He then offered me coke over the phone and told me to say I'm a c*ck  s&*king coke sl$t, over and over again. All while snorting the stuff on the phone while he talked.


Occupy took my dog for a walk, came back, nodded off to a nap, woke up read some email, and I was still on the phone. Three hours later I'm still saying variations of the I'm a coke wh*re. That was a test of my endurance. My calls never last that long, usually 20-60 minutes. Calls that long are a rarity for me and even though that was a metric butt ton of money I made I'm kind of hoping to never get that call again.


Lets be honest, I'm not really comfortable telling someone to pollute themselves with poison. I'm a recovering alkie remember. Stuff like this more than concerns me. But it is the nature of my job, and like most jobs there comes a time when your bills and rent outweigh your conscious.


After we laughed about that call he asked me what happened to the kid from the other night:


"What kid?"
"The one you baby talked to for like 20 minutes."
"That wasn't a kid."
"Seriously?"
"Yeah."
"So what did you do?"
"I put him in his onesie, told him a story, gave him a wet sloppy kiss and said good night."
"Seriously?"
"YEAH, Seriously."


Girl six signing out...

Mouth-gasmic Meatloaf

So me and Occupy Couch were outside smoking and I said I think I want to make a meatloaf. His eyes widen (pretty hard to so since he's Korean/Black) like I just told him a very sexy man was going to jump out of a cake.


I said I should make one because the meatloaf would last at least two days. Trying to save money you know, my pay check was really small this pay period. He's all for it, turns out Occupy Couch loves meatloaf. Personally I hate meatloaf, it's always super dry the second day.


So we start discussing ways to make said meatloaf edible and I figured carrots, and onions, and maybe an egg. Off to the kitchen I go, I'm still brainstorming a meatloaf but I make it work. Why is making  meatloaf so involved? Well because it's deceptively easy to make. In fact it's so easy that if you don't pay attention you can ruin meatloaf. You really can, I've done it. It was a long time ago but it is one of the reasons why I,  man I just don't like it. I started with the onions. These onions are so strong that I started crying after I took the peel off. I have to get Occupy to wipe my eyes so I could finish chopping them up. He claims its the weather. I've lived in super humid areas my whole life that I haven't had the full impact of an onion. (you know it sounded better coming out his mouth, than me writing it here)


Flash forward to done and I'm kind of hungry. I've been playing the Girl 6 deal all freaking day. Yes even while making my meatloaf. And it's time for a taste test. Occupy Couch is super excited to try it so we have a small slice each. I have seriously outdone myself. It's actually good, the carrots keep it moist, the onions gave it flavor, and the sauce I made out of salsa ketchup dried orange peel and Parmesan cheese totally rocked.


Too bad it was so small. Occupy ate most of it, so now we are back to square one with us having to figure out what to eat for dinner tomorrow. At least he saved me a slice. Oh and he mentioned it on Facebook.


I guess I'm famous?


Oh and I had my first twofer today. I love repeat customers, love them, because they pay my bills, but I had a client call me back twice in one day. While I was making the meatloaf, then again while I was making some potatoes later this afternoon.  If all my days were like this I'd never have to worry about budgeting my meals.


Now that the kitchen is dirty I'm going to see if I can get Occupy to wash the dishes, he had two servings he better. And then I can focus on the rest of Chapter six. It's coming along. Instead of one guy disobeying the rule I'm making it a group thing. In this I'm pulling from my own experience in the Military. Being bad is always better with a partner. In this case its three of them. Nothing solidifies a friendship like landing in shi*t together. I hope I can tie it in to the rest of the story. I'll be ecstatic.

Snooty Poo and Shoes

So this is what I meant to write about before I went of on a Tyler Perry Tangent. Sometimes you just have to get things off you chest.


The Blessing I spoke about was the reason. I am  a phone sex operator. It pays the bills, it allows me to write, it allows me to attend school. I wonder what would I gain by talking about some of the calls I get? Truthfully that's not me, how ever I feel somedays I need an outlet and this blog is not the right platform.

Hey Stud...

I happened to stumble on a blog that by a fellow agent and it reads like a how to manual for professionals. Kind of like the blogs I follow written by published writers, what not do to, blah blah blah. Again that's not me.


I am not a seasoned professional, this is not my lifetime gig. This is my current hustle and truthfully I just hate leaving my house.

No Comment, really I got nuthin.

But lets get down to business. What's this job like? A lot of poo. I hate poo, I hate talking about it, faking that I like it, and it just grosses me out to absolutely the inth of grossness. And what do you think my regular callers are all about? You guessed it, Poo.


Another thing I seem to have the knack for is ball smashing. Just call me Dr. Squeeze.  What's scary about these things, other than my over inflated ego, is that I get these kinks. the taboo behind some of this stuff is really basic.


It all comes down to a person's desire to either let go or rebel. I'm finding out more and more that my callers have deep rooted desires to give up their control even for a few minutes. In being able to let truly relax they are getting their release. Get it release, heh heh.


Sounds like some poetic psychobabble? Well, because it is, but in this cliche, the truth is so blatantly frickin obvious. I can't think of anything off the top of my head to state that better.


You know the first time I did this job years ago I didn't have so many special kink callers. I guess that is no longer the case. Vanilla sex is a thing of the past for my customers. I wonder if it's a trend that will go the way of the Dinosaurs or jheri curls? Or maybe it's like those super high heels that everyone has but can't walk in. I got a few (oh God I wandered into shoe territory, somebody help me before I start window shopping at NineWest.)


My job is not all about kink though I wish it were. Lately I've been getting callers who don't specify their fantasy. See it goes like this you ( I say you figuratively, not YOU you) call the line, the line gives you options. If you're so half cocked that you can't sit through the option menu, guess what happens? You get the first available operator. No tag no special request, no warning you get that operator's alter ego.

You're Killing me Smalls!

Your Higher Power better help you if you get me and you don't like me. Here is a big pink FAIL sticker for your head (you get to pick which head). My alter ego is African American just like me, don't waste three minutes of my life and your time getting upset because you ask what I look like and I tell you I'm 5'8" with long hair to my ass, brown skin and a juicy ghetto booty. You, are not allowed to get mad, and YOU, still have to pay for that time.


I'm here to help you folks, it's my job. I find it truly frustrating though, that customers hold themselves up over the silliest things. Your fantasy can exist, as long as you sit through the menu options, then everyone is happy. You're happy, I'm happy, you saved some money, and I've made a new customer.

So a friend of mine asked if being in this corner of the sex industry helps me write better smut. No it does not. The smut I write and the smut I sell are two different things. That I'm when i'm working I know my audience. My book isn't finished yet I'm pretty sure that my audience will have a wider scope.


Any whoo the whole point of this particular entry was to ponder the question of having a separate blog for a topic like this. Honestly you guys will have to let me know. If you don't want to read about this here let me know. Or if you like the randomness of the topics on this blog, let me know. Frankly I don't cover this topic frequently enough to warrant a whole blog.




I think I made more sense at Three this morning...
Girl 6 signing out.

Lost in AA

Tonight I decided to forgo the hot lines and went looking for a new AA meeting.  I got on the website and searched out one Downtown. There is one closer to my home but I went last week and the Secretary gave me the heebegeebees. But in a pinch I'm always welcome as is the way in AA.  I really wanted to go tonight even though I promised I'd be on the phones all afternoon into the night.

I took Chewy out for a really long walk this afternoon in preps for leaving him home alone. Got back just in time to run late. Never the less, with directions save to my smart phone I trotted off to the bus stop.

In an uncharacteristic moment of zen, two #10s pass by. Normally you'll see two 7s followed by one 10 bus. This does not bode well for Ms. Townes. The meeting starts at 6:30, it's 5:45 already and I have to change buses once. Google said the trip will take 53 minutes, yep, no bueno.

Because I know the first leg of my trip will take a while I break out my Ipod and read some book I have saved on it. Some preggo heroine is being attacked by some angry magical being. For this heroine, it's all in a days work. No worries. Yeah for her, for me I just missed my stop.

On foot I decided to consult my smart phone again to make sure I'm at least close. Some how I decided I was and began huffing it in the wrong direction. Backtracking to the correct street I'm now wondering why I can't find the building. Well because I'm on the right street, which is good, but ten-twelve blocks away, which is not good.

 It's now 6:20, I'm just going to crash the party late. I managed to get some good news from a hostess at a place called Ravioli's. They said that I am about a brisk 14 minute walk away from the street I want. By 6:40, I'm so close I can almost smell the bad coffee, but I have to pee so bad I need to stop.

Hindsight is always the first thing on my mind, I should have asked to use the facilities at Ravioli's. I'm sure they would have let me. The place was a little out of the way from the center of Downtown SD. Repeat business you know... Albertson's appears out of nowhere. You gotta love supermarkets and their non public bathrooms, that all the public uses. The good news is it's only a block over from where the meeting SHOULD be. The bad news is that it's now 6:55. I might as well give up the ghost.

Well it is a supermarket so I'll pick up a few things.

On the way to the nearest bus going back towards Downtown center, I actually see this place. It's a nice one, I'm really sad that I missed it. I don't think the coffee would have smelled bad either. I mean I can't drink that stuff but I can enjoy the smell. There's a few people standing outside the place when I pass by. The meeting has been over for at least ten minutes but I'm afraid (there's that word again) to approach them. Seriously it's AA I can admit that I'm a member, that's one thing, but to walk up to a random stranger and say "hey did the AA meeting just let out," is another.

I sort of feel like I'm violating their anonymity, by asking them so I walk by, continuing to scope the place out as much at I can before I head back home. Hindsight again says I should have toughed out the creepy secretary and went to the closer meeting. It not only started later so I would have made it. I would have gotten home in enough time to actually get on the phone tonight.

But I'm not done. Determined to get my AA on for the night, I decided to log on to the open recovery chat. Where I am immediately harassed by someone one for saying I need a new sponsor. Not to insult my sponsor but she and I have not talked in a very long time. I said this much and got my ass chewed for saying I need more guidance.

Someways I can see how I may have provoked her. Other ways I'm not at fault. I've maintained my sobriety for almost six months. I'm proud of that, I take offense to some random person who admits that they drank tonight yelling at me for wanting to fire my sponsor. One I'm not firing her. Two the last thing she said to me was good information so there's no need to fire her. The point I made and this "person" seemed to miss was that I need more guidance. I'm not going to sink to her level though. I told her I forgave her for trying to irritate me, and proceeded to ignore her. She eventually left the chat.

Which brings me to this: Why argue with people you don't know? Why take so much pleasure in causing someone else discomfort. What does one gain?

My Alkie brian wants to dismiss her just because she'd been drinking. Thus I get to say "ha I'm better than you," but the real problem is not two alkies arguing. The real problem is two people who have no ties trading insults over the internet.

I've got a picture for that ...
The whole AA experience tonight was ruined because of piss poor internet protocol.  I truly needed to make a meeting today. I lost my temper with Chewy. I yelled at him and the poor guy cowered. I've been frustrated over not making enough money lately, and I haven't been able to write, and I missed class on Wednesday.

I was/am on my own last nerve. When I get like this I need to reach out. AA is a ready support system, even if you don't always get what you want. 99.9% of the time you'll get what you need.

So the plan after fighting the VA tomorrow part 3, I shall find the nearest AA meeting and get my fellowship on.

Tonight though I'll pray for Serenity.

UUUUmmmmm SOOO Gooood, yeah

I'm on the brink of something people. The last days of the Navy are coming and coming fast. I've almost secured the apartment I want in San Diego, I'm pretty sure I'll get there just in time to start school this semester and I just finished Chapter 4. Life could not possibly get better.

Oh yes it can...

What's missing from this idyllic situation is a job. So I took a little time out of life to look and I have found it people. You may now call me Girl 6. My name is Lovely, Lovely Number 6. You guessed it, I have joined the many mom's of America who moonlight as phone sex operators.

Truth be told I've done this before. Like ten years ago when I lived in Florida. It was a great job except for the fact that I never left my house. I think that was such an eye opener for me, not the never leaving my house, no I'm talking about learning other people's kink.

I'm not name calling on this one but I want to. Only out of respect for the industry will I not poke fun. However, comma, I will say that people are truly special in their own unique way. Once you figure that out you sort of forget that on the opposite end of the call is someone in some state of undress.

How do you figure that out? Well in this business, the customer will tell you, in freakishly vivid detail. This isn't a people get a dog moment though. Most of the folks that call these lines are in secure relationships. To them this is safer than going out and actually straying from the bond they have with their significant others.

Like every person, a fantasy is just as unique. The goal of a phone sex operator, is to give voice to that fantasy while simultaneously keeping the caller engaged for as long as possible. It's actually harder than you think. Especially of the caller was already half-cocked before he dialed. Half-cocked, get it, t-hee hee hee.

Seriously though, I will say that some of my best callers were the ones that just want to talk. Something about telling a complete stranger everything on your mind without regret. It's like going to confession without saying the ten Hail Mary's after. That and it's not like you can really tell anyone what they said. No one would believe you.

I like talkers, if they don't have some deep dark confession, they tend to actually want to please you. They know you're at work, but they still insist on making you enjoy the moment. I find that a huge turn on. Call me weird but it's the truth. Two of the most sexiest things in the world to me are: men who want your pleasure and men who show affection to babies in public.

DISCLAIMER: I hate kids. I just like watching men being tender. It's sooo, sooo incredibly arousing to see a big strong male being gentle and openly loving to little one....

Back on topic. So the plan is to incorporate some form of income into the equation but not end up sacrificing too much of my time. I give myself 25 hours a week and 25 hours only. I could knock that out in three days. I feel like such a stripper. I'm just doing this to put myself through college.

So the next time your pervy cousin tells you he's met this super hot chick with some exotic name, chances are, he's talking about me.