I sometimes irrationally let my self esteem rise and fall with the amount of money I am earning. The simplistic logic I use is that if nobody wants me, I am worthless and if people call me, I am worthful. I know this is wrong, but I fall for it every time. I am in a lull such as this when I had no jobs for 2 days and then just 1 job a day for the last 3 days. Today a client whose phone number I recognized called me just as my therapy client arrived a few minutes early. I had to turn off my phone, but since my client had to use the bathroom, I had time for a quick text advising him I was busy for the hour and could see him later. I never heard back from him but I expected him to call on a last minute need and went to get ready for that. After I got ready I was going through my drawers looking for a piece of ribbon I could use to sew onto a cape costume. I was sure it would be floating around in one of my drawers. Instead I found $200. Sitting there for God knows how long in a card, in an envelope, I had probably forgotten in my haste to clean and prepare for an incoming guest. That was exhilaratingly exciting. I looked through the rest of the hundred empty envelopes hoping for a double whammy. When I never heard back from the client, I had an errand to run and during that drive, I got a call from an out of town visitor who had seen me this summer and wanted me to visit him this evening. I quoted him a reasonable next available time based on traffic, dog feeding and me eating needs and he agreed. Part of his deal was I meet him at a restaurant for a glass of wine. I explained that social time was an additional cost of half the usual. (I find that many people ignore this time spent if it is not articulated) He agreed. I was now in rush mode to finish the errand and drive through traffic ecetera. My smart phone which I love with all my heart is not that smart with directions. I type in the address and it changes it to something I can't logically fathom. I delete it and write the address again and it persists in its own idea of where I want to go. Alas I had to use mapqwest. Then the guy changes his mind while I am driving to a new destination which I pull off the road and punch into my map function. It tells me to go southeast. What the fuck direction is southeast? Of course the phone also has a compass on it and I try to figure it out using both these applications simultaneously. Miraculously I arrive at my destination. In the bar having a glass of wine, I am the one who makes conversation happen. Although it is difficult because I am just trying to amuse myself with knowledge and information but he seems to think I have an agenda and tries to thwart me. I wonder how it seemed to him. I imagine I was somewhat entertaining and authentic. That is the thing I am trying always to reconcile. I want to be real, because that feels good to me and I imagine to another person and then the situation calls for fakeness in some way that I try to bridge.
We go up to the room. There is no ipod dock. Shit! I brought my ipod. So silence instead of smooth jazz. The commercials of radio are distracting to me. He points to the bed which is a pristine expanse of whiteness. "See that," he asks me, "That's going to stay that way until I get into it for sleep so all our action is going to take place on this couch" I was shocked that he would sacrifice our comfort and spontaneity for his bedtime ritual, so I said with a mixture of authenticity and fakeness, "That is very original. I never heard anyone say that before." If I was being truly authentic I might have said, "You've got to be kidding me. How anal can you be?"
I took out my toys and paraphenalia and put it on the glass topped coffee table. He reminded me that he enjoyed nipple clamps and strap on. In the bar he told me he wanted me to teach him how to eat my pussy, but now his agenda seemed to have changed. "This session is all about me." he informed me. "The next one can be about you." Again here is the fine balance where authenticity and fakeness combine. I don't give a shit if he ever does anything for my pleasure. I am working. My pleasure is the least of my concerns, although his cock did look promising. I have to show desire but not dissappointment. I believe I succeeded because I bring a toy called the wii vibe that I insert inside me and it also rests on my clit so that under my strap on I am aroused and have pleasurable sensations. He kept telling me what to do like, "suck my nipples, stroke my cock" and then he's adds a "yes Ma'am" or "yes Mistress," I guess to make himself believe I was the one who commanded that. I do appreciate men letting me know what they want.
After he came he said, "I'm going to sleep well tonight." I had to comment on his comment. First of all it is the most common comment of men and I told him I also read in a book that is old (1988) and I think I found the book but I can't spend time going through it to find the quote but Dolores French in Working also wrote that this was the most common comment of men after an orgasm. I told him some version of this. (mix of authentic and fake again because I actually think its funny that they come and talk about their impending sleep) another common comment they make after an orgasm is, "Just what the doctor ordered." Which also cracks me up because it would be a pretty cool doctor who would ever say to the patient, "I think you need to have more orgasms." What I interpret from these comments is an acknowledgement from the client that I have helped them feel better so that sleep will be a better time or their well-being is enhanced because of our interaction.
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