Nom de Plume

Lenin or Reagan?

What is this shit?

Keep your fingers crossed. We may have a house to move into.

Funnily enough, Steve was telling me last night that most of his subcontractors are semi-illiterate last night, yet many make a lot more than he does. Hmmm, is this why?

So my boss–and the woman who hired me–was let go my fifth day working here. It was several weeks ago, end of story. Right?

Wrong.

Last week, I was sitting in Prost, our neighborhood bar, drinking beer with Steve and reading the funnier personals from The Stranger aloud. Flipped the page, and there, in the corner of the page, was an ad for bondage and S&M services.

No big deal. There are lots of ‘em. Only thing is, it looked exactly like my old boss. Same face, same half blonde, half black hair. Same build. (Wouldn’t be able to vouch for same tattoo completely covering one breast.) I marvelled, Steve told me it couldn’t possibly be the one and same. Little did he know …

The next day, I went into one of the editor’s office to discuss something, and lo and behold, he had a copy of The Stranger sitting on his desk. I flipped open to the page and pointed wordlessly; he gaped and pulled up the web site right then and there.

Oh, the pictures. A nurse outfit with black wig and big syringe. Happily aiming a large paddle at a naked man’s bottom while clad in purple pleatherware. Her husband staring sootily at the camera, draped in gold lame and four inch heels.

In other words, I had a dominatrix boss for five days. (Imagine doing poorly on your yearly review.) Apparently, she runs a very lucrative business out of her dungeon basement. I also seem to be very naive. Who knew there were people who want to be diapered and put in an adult sized crib?

Well, to each her own.

Bottoms up.