My Dad called me up the other day and the talk turned to relationships. He pointed out that I’d been divorced for a while and wondered if I was dating again.
I said, “Oh, I’ve got a girlfriend. I didn’t tell you?”
He congratulated me, and asked how we’d met.
“I met her on one of those personal meet-up sites,” I told him. “She’s a real sweetheart, and always anxious to see me.”
“Oh yeah?” he asked, intrigued. “How so?”
“Well, any time I send her a message saying I’d like to meet, she immediately responds, and even calculates the time exactly. I kind of feel bad for her sometimes though. As beautiful and talented as she is, she must not realize how awesome she is. You’d think from the way she seems to be just waiting for me to call that she must live for my enjoyment.”
“Wow, Son. That’s a rare trait in a woman. She sounds like quite a lady.”
“Oh, she is, she is.”
“How’d you link up with her initially?” he asked.
“Well, I’d seen a personal ad of hers on the site, where she was pretty open and up-front about the things she likes. She said she was looking for a guy like me to do all kind of things to her, that she couldn’t wait to meet, and that she was only in town for a couple days. I guess she travels on business a lot. She lives out of her suitcase—but the things she has in that suitcase!—and never stays in one place.”
“What line of work is she in?” my Dad asked.
“She never really told me. But then again, when we’re together she’s always all over me like she can’t get enough. One thing though, she can be pretty needy.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. She’s always looking for some cash. Now I don’t mind helping her out; she’s a great lady and is always so accommodating. I’ve just never had a girlfriend before who asked for money every time we meet. Maybe her job doesn’t pay that much.”
“Son. Let me ask a few things….”
“Okay.”
“Are you exclusive with this girl?”
“Well, not really. And she kind of hinted that she’s not really ready to settle down yet. In fact, I keep seeing her place more of those ads like the one that brought us together. I just figured it’s like one of those ads you take out in the newspaper, where you set it up to repeat so many times. I’m sure it’ll reach the end sometime soon,” I explained to him.
“Um, you said you’re dating this girl,” he said hesitantly. “How often do you go out?”
“Well, we don’t really go out, per se. She’s always so excited to see me, it’s like she just wants to be alone with me. And who could turn a great person like her down? Plus, like I said, she’s always short of cash, so since I help her out when I see her, I’m not really setting any aside to go out.” I thought for a second. “What are you saying? You think she’s using me somehow?”
“Well, Son…it sounds like…well, maybe she’s a prostitute.”
“A prostitute? No, that couldn’t be it. She’s never really messed with my prostate in a clinical way, so she couldn’t be a prostate doctor.”
“No. I mean I think she’s a ******.”
“Yeah, well, I am hooked. In fact, I can’t wait to see her again. I have the feeling this relationship is going places.”
“No, Son, a ****** is—”
“Oh, wait, Dad, she just texted me and looks like she needs some more money. I’ll have to chat with you later. My future bride awaits! Nice talking with you.”
“Son—”
“I’ll call you later, bye!”
<click>
