Wednesday, April 08, 2009

Love for sale

Is it really only Wednesday? It feels like it should be Friday already, but that's what happens when spending all available time on work and spring cleaning and more work. At least the bills are paid and I have a couple of dollars left over for something really decadent, like a small ice cream cone at Dairy Queen up the street, or maybe a sour cream and chive potato or Caesar side salad at Wendy's. It's been a tough week, but a productive week, and I even managed to pull together a team for the ham radio exams on Saturday without resorting to begging and offering money.

One thing working all these extra hours provides is less time to waste on things like watching DVDs and taking long walks. I have backed off both and am now taking short walks just to get outside and feel the sun on my skin because it's been a nice couple of days. I also have to be more selective about what I do with time left after working. That put a big hole in many decadent and frivolous activities. But it's all a matter of choice. More money means getting that much closer to buying my own place instead of renting and being able to afford to keep said place from falling down around my ears. It's just like rent that way, a constant drain on the bank account. There are worse things in this world. Like . . . give me a minute . . . like . . . Okay, so it will hit me in the wee hours of the morning, sending me bolt upright in bed from a sound sleep and probably a really good and very salacious dream. Everything changes.

Like Beanie. I talked to her yesterday and she told me she quit smoking three days ago. I asked why. She's doing it for her doctor. He must be a real hunk because nothing I've said to her over the years of her on-again off-again smoking ever made a difference. She wouldn't even do it for her kids, although I don't think they asked, but she's doing it for her doctor. Really! What is this world coming to when family can't guilt you into doing something for your own good? At least she's quitting and that's what's important. Or maybe it's love.

Then there's a close friend who has finally given up on the man of her dreams. She finally got tired of waiting around for him to slot her into his schedule ahead of his various hobbies and projects. She decided that even though he is the only man for her, if he couldn't put her on his schedule on a regular basis she was wasting her time. Instead, she walked quietly away and so far he hasn't noticed. If he's like most men of my acquaintance, it will take him a while to figure out that she's not just busy, she's tired of always coming last. She did consider sending him a bill because he pays more attention to the "friends" he pays. They get top priority on his schedule. The idea of billing him for time spent and services rendered seemed a little too much like prostitution, but then again maybe not.

When Dad was stationed at Fort Monroe in Hampton, Virginia, there was a family that lived across the street from us. Mr. Alexander was stationed at Langley AFB and Mrs. Alexander was a stay at home mom. I remember hearing Mrs. Alexander tell my mom and Mrs. Palmentera how she earned her Xmas money. Her husband paid her every time they had sex. They must have had sex all the time because the Alexander kids, and there were four of them, got some very expensive and really nice gifts every year. Mom laughed but she told Mrs. Palmentera that Mrs. Alexander was like a prostitute.

I never could figure out if Mom was jealous because she didn't think of the idea first or if she was worried she wouldn't get to spend as much money if she and Dad went over to the Alexander Xmas Club method.

Still, the idea has some merit. Maybe some men would treat their girlfriends and wives better if they had to pay for the favors they received. You don't see too many guys missing appointments with their therapists, masseuses, dentists, doctors or personal trainers. When there's money involved, there's suddenly room on their supposedly over crowded schedules that wasn't there before -- or at least not when their girlfriends asked about getting together. Yep, I think money is the answer. After all, isn't a girlfriend's time just as valuable as a masseuse's or doctor's or therapist's?

This is after all a capitalist society and there's no such thing as a free lunch. It may sound mercenary, but I prefer to think of it as just good money sense.

That is all. Disperse.

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