VACATION BLUES

I Was A Call Girl For A Day

And it was supposed to be my holidays

It all started rather unexpectedly. On my stay-cation.

Time off in the summer from my office job in the city means enjoying all the activities the warm weather brings. The first day is usually filled with fun. Errands.

Okay, so not really fun.

My first order of business: a few changes to my will. Mid-forties, recently divorced, and a new postal code. It was time. The visit with my lawyer was booked.

At the time, cell phones weren’t as popular as today. I decided to invest in one. More for safety than anything else. Like for online dating for instance — using my home number would have revealed too much personal information.

When I met my boyfriend John, he was the only one I used it with since I had a very limited plan — and it was a flip phone. I’d explain what those were, but apparently, they’re back in style again. Except the new ones don’t require numerical digits to form words. Tedious. Look it up. It was so time-consuming we rarely used it.

That’s why as I was on the way to the lawyer, I was surprised to hear the ding of a couple of texts while driving. What did John need?

When I got to the law office I quickly checked. It wasn’t him. Number unrecognizable. Probably spam. I didn’t bother to read it.

Then as I sat with my lawyer, the dings started again and got increasingly frequent. I apologized and said that I just wanted to check if there was something urgent happening with my boyfriend. Just more spam numbers. I joked that there must be a blitz going on this morning.

While walking back to the car, my phone rang. It wasn’t John, so I didn’t pick it up. Then it rang again as I was driving, along with more text dings. When I stopped at a supermarket, I decided to see what the texts said. This was the rudest spam I’d ever seen!

Why was it coming from so many different numbers, I wondered?

Just then the phone rang again, and even though it wasn’t John, I decided to answer. The man on the phone said he wanted to know how much I charge for a lewd act. I hung up. Then another call came in, but I let it go to voicemail. As I heard the voicemail my mouth dropped — it was worse than the last call. More texts started flying in and I began to finally notice a pattern.

What-was-happening?????

As I bent to grab a few mandarins, a call came through. Before the man could say anything, I asked him how he got my number. And HE hung up.

For the next call, I decided to play it a little cooler so I could get some answers. “I’m calling about your ad,” said a voice as I was checking out some melons.

“WHAT AD!?!?” I couldn’t help screaming into the phone and then HE hung up.

I had checked everything off my grocery list and headed to pick up John for a job interview that afternoon. When I got to his place, I asked John to drive as I had something to tell him. He looked worried.

“It’s okay sweetheart…” I assured him. “This isn’t about our relationship.”

He looked relieved. “What’s up?”

“Funny you should ask.” I smirked. “I’ve been barraged with phone calls and texts from all kinds of guys today, asking me to do…” I gasped, “kinky acts. Most of which, I’ve never heard of. The acts…” I clarified, “I don’t know the men of course!” I giggled nervously as I turned beet red.

“Well then obviously your cell phone number somehow got printed somewhere it shouldn’t be.” John deduced. But we weren’t sure where or why.

More texts appeared. What, for instance, was snowballing? Neither of us knew. We both were pretty clueless about what the youth were up to these days. And he had an important job interview after all, so I didn’t bug him anymore. But my eyes kept bugging out, nevertheless.

I dropped him off and drove home to try to figure things out. I went on my computer and googled my cell number and up popped a personal ad with all kinds of interesting offerings. The name of the girl in the ad was Lana and the fact that her name spelled backwards was one of her top services, wasn’t lost on me.

I was so relieved when John called to say his interview went well and he wanted to see what I found out.

“I need you to call a call girl,” I commanded him.

When he did, she said she was waiting for the call about my number. Since it was similar to hers, she had accidentally printed mine online this morning, but her customers caught it and she had just changed it. She apologized profusely and said the calls should cease shortly.

My call girl for a day job ended as abruptly as it started.

But I’ll never forget the time I started off my vacation as a working girl.

Thank you for reading my story.

Thank you to brilliant editor Jennifer McDougall

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