A Typical Day In My Life
Not nearly as dramatic as you may think.
It’s about 4 PM and I’m just waking up. I usually stay up late at night, I love night time better. Definitely a nocturnal person. I lay back down for a moment and cuddle up against my boyfriend, who’s starting to open his eyes now also. I consider going back to sleep, but with a resigned sigh wake up and face the day ahead of me. The first thing I do is go clean up whatever mess my black lab puppy and my orange tabby cat have made in the hotel room. Usually there’s plenty of stuff chewed up and broken, because animals are extremely difficult and messy. From there I vaccuum, take the trash out, feed the pets, and spray some air freshner, then I go take a hot bath and shave everywhere, wash my hair, and go put on my make up and get dressed. I come back out and fix me something to eat and come check my Facebook and my email. For most of the day, I sit at my laptop watching Netflix, writing poetry, photoediting pictures, and reading fanfiction. I listen to music a lot…that’s my main coping strategy, and I love all types, though my favorite band is Marilyn Manson. Sometimes, I pace relentlessly back and forth across the room with my Mp3 player in, something I have done to help me think since as far back as I can recall. I talk to my little sister on Facebook, and ask how she is, and sometimes give her and my aunt a call, because they’re the only family I have. And then, often, a client will text, or if no one does, I’ll post an ad on Backpage after carefully looking at some of the other ads and prices to know what to say in mine. I try to be careful not to say anything too sexual or notable, but enough to lure in people to get the money I need for rent, food, and whatever else I may want or need at that time. Eventually people will text, and ask questions, or I may see one of my regulars. They text when they’re here and my boyfriend leaves the room to go wait outside and I put on something sexy and readjust my make up and light some candles as I wait for the knock on the door. I look through the peephole, preparing in case there are police there, and then I open the door with a big fake smile on my face and exchange pleasantries, and names, before sitting down on the client bed and telling them to place the money on the table, if they would please, because many people try not to pay if I wait till after to ask for it. Most of them are nice; some of them are anxious; some are very rude. Usually it starts with kissing and both of us stripping naked, but others rush right into the deed and finish fast, leaving as soon as they are done. Others like to prolong it, as much foreplay and talking as possible, before me sucking them and then putting a condom on so they can sleep with me. I’m very quiet during sex normally, but I have to fake moans and screams of pleasure for these strangers, and do things however they want them done. I sometimes have to pretend to orgasm also, because they have this idea in their head that I should be enjoying this, too. Then it’s over, and they get dressed, and some of them will sit down and try to talk. A few tell me I shouldn’t be doing this, that I’m a sweet girl and deserve more, or they try to rag on my boyfriend, who many know about, and say he should be working and providing for me. I smile politely and speak respectfully to them until time is up and they leave. Then I lose my smile and rush to the bathroom to brush my teeth and soak in the bath tub, mourning the fact that I have to do what I do. My boyfriend comes back, walks in to the bathroom, and gives me a sympathetic look, asking if I’m okay and if everything went alright and whether they paid the price they were supposed to. Sometimes he gets in the tub with me, and we talk and he holds me and tries to make me feel better, but I do pull away from his touch now and then, because some days, I just hate all men, even him, and never want to be touched again. Sometimes that’s the only call for the night- others, this process is repeated a few times. Then I turn the TV to Cartoon Network, and watch Family Guy and American Dad, and sometimes pour a mixed drink composed of Vodka and a fruity mixer, and go back to being on the laptop or listening to music. Then around 4 or 5 am, my boyfriend and I are both ready for bed, and we cuddle and sometimes have sex, and then I take Benadryl or Nyquil to help me sleep, because I’m always restless and have trouble falling asleep. That’s basically my day. I keep the room clean all day, and my boyfriend usually cooks dinner around 7 or 8 PM, and I sometimes walk my puppy on the beach or go to the playground and play on the swings, even though I’m too old for that. On special occasions or when we have spare money, we go to see a movie or go shopping or mini golfing or hang out with friends, few that we have. The most money I have ever made in one day is 880 dollars, but that is very rare. I pay 200 a week to stay at the hotel I’m at, and have to hide my cat so I don’t get thrown out. And we spend about 200 a week on food and stuff, also. The cost of living is expensive. But my life, despite some parts, isn’t really all that abnormal. Is it? Some days I don’t even work, if I don’t need the money or if no one wants to come by. I even go to chuch some Sundays, unbelievable as that sounds. My point is, I’m still human. I may have an alcohol problem and work as a prostitute, among also struggling with bulimia and my sometimes unhealthy relationship with my boyfriend, but I still do a lot of very mundane things as well. One day, I hope to fit in with normal society again…I don’t think I’m too far gone just yet.
TheVoiceOfTeenageProstitution 