Wednesday, August 12, 2009

Invoiced! 'If you love me buy me a car '

The other day a chap was telling stories me about his love life. Actually he was complaining about his relationship with a chick. Most guys do complain about their love life, if you can offer enough ear, that is.

“I had hardly greeted her and she asked for my cell phone number, which I hastily offered, thinking that it was my good looks at work.” He said.

“Oh yeah!” I nodded, encouraging him on. Good looks? The guy looked like he had just stopped a speeding Bajaj with his face.

“I had hardly disappeared into the loo, before my cellphone rang. It was her
ladyship. Believe it on not, my man, she called me darling.

“There were a lot of darlings in between her sentences. Then she asked me to transfer five thou bob to her voda account.” He explained.

“Do you work as a voucher salesman to voda, or something?” I asked.
“No, man. She just ambushed me with the request. I said ‘why not? Since we were building this, you know, relationship…”

The geezer then transfered the money to her. Immediately after the transfer there was a beep. It was the chick. He phoned her back. “But I have just transfered money to your account. Do you still have to beep me?” He asked.

The dame told him that she needed the phone money to talk to her mother somewhere in the in the middle of nowhere in the United Republic of Tanzania. By the way did he know that her mother was sick?

The geezer told me that he made sympathetic noises and promised to do something about it for his now sick mother-in-law. That was it for then. Before he went to bed there was a call, from his ‘darlingi’ again. She said she missed him terribly and she would have invited him to her home. Except that she had not paid the rent for the next six months. Would ‘darlingi’ fix it?

“That was on day one?” I asked unbelievingly. The geezer nodded, beaming like he had just been announced a mega lottery winner. Then I knew I had a jerk for a colleague. I asked him if she had delivered the merchandise and he said no.

“On day two she beeped me and asked me to meet me her at this fancy hotel. She ordered some stuff I don’t even know. It cost me a bomb. But I paid for it. Later, we went to my place and, you know…”

“Yes, I know. You ended up playing draughts in your bedroom..” I sneered.
“Yeah. But that was after I promised to by her a car.”
“What? Are you crazy? You promised to buy her a car for sex? You are one hell of a geezer. Fall-l-a-a wee-e-e!”

Then I started thinking. I know there is a sucker born every minute in this world, but that was really something. The guy had a great job in the government thanks to his parents, but underneath he was really a hungarian.

The thing was he had simply been dealing with a glorified prostitute. Not a sex worker, mind you. With a sex worker you talk shop. How much? Five thou a trick. You pay, then wham, bang, thank-you ma’am. That’s it.

But this prostitute called herself ‘darlingi’ was simply milking the poor geek by using sex. The sex worker is honest and deserves more respect. But the glorified prostitute was simply tarting around and pretending to be decent which she was not.
The chap was a real jerk. How could one be manipulated like that in the name of love? Hardly had he even looked at her and he was being ‘invoiced’ in the name of love. The geek must have started very late in the love business!

1 comment:

Alecia 101 said...

one...poor fool..and two, just because he was extremely blonde does not make her a 'glorified prostitute'.I would for one call him an easy target..unless you call men who give women tons of money for their company some nights 'glorified prostitutes' as well..i stand to disagree and would rather settle for 'merciless hunters'