MY FRIEND IS A KEPT WOMAN
The older we get the more women share.
While men may communicate with one another via references to their own successes, women do so with stories of their own imperfections; farting at a dinner with the in-laws, investing in BETA video in the eighties, attending a work function with the back of your dress accidentally tucked into your undies.
By your mid forties a woman might consider it fair to imagine she knows pretty much everything about her gal pals. That’s why I was so taken aback when recently retrenched Linny announced to our gaggle that she’d found the ultimate answer to ‘life, purpose and our search for love’… by deciding to become a kept woman.
“I need money. Men want sex. I’ve decided to become a mistress,” Linny blurted.
“Mistress? Don’t you mean prostitute?” asked Clara (wife of a doofus millionaire, mother of four, thinks having your hair blow dried straight is hard work.) “You can’t sleep with someone for financial support.”
“Why not? You do.”
“That’s different, I’m married. And besides you’ll get emotionally attached to anyone you sleep with.”
“Why will I? You haven’t.”
“I’ve been married so long I’m immune to my husband. But most women are genetically programmed to fall in love when they have sex.”
“That’s why I need the financial exchange, to remove all emotion from the interaction.”
“Well if you must do it, I suggest you avoid being arrested by requesting payment in the from of things you need, rather than cold, hard cash.”
“You mean things like a new toaster?”
“I guess I do, but unless you value you’re sexual performance at $49.50 I suggest you aim a little higher.”
Linny is single. When she got divorced her husband sued her for alimony. She’s raised three, now grown-up children on her own. Linny is strong and independent, the kind of woman men like to flirt with as an arousing challenge but not settle down with (for precisely the same reason.)
Being determined Linny further researched her ‘kept woman’ idea with Colin, her neighbour, whom she dated briefly before discovering St John’s wart offered better emotional comfort.
“I’ve decided to have sex for money.”
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