One wonders why cant I be the title of this post?
One also wonders what is the role and the responsibility when performing as the title of this post?
One will never know, will one?
Probably not, especially at this age and shape.
I shall google male escort and see what…uh…”pops” up.
So I googled and realized I was right and wrong at the same time.
I was wrong in what I thought a male escort is and I was totally right that I cannot be a male escort.
Maybe I could be a MAIL Escort. I will gladly walk old men and women to their mail boxes to retrieve the latest issue of AARP Monthly, the Avon Catalog, and those prescriptions from Canada. I know times are tough and Social Security doesn’t provide enough to make the tired/gray ends meet, I work cheap. Cash is so 5 years ago, bartering and trading is where its at. I will swap my time and companionship for nothing more than a few pieces of candy at the bottom of nana’s handbag and maybe a few stories from the good ol’ days when times were tough. Send me home with stories of struggle. Let me know how easy I have it today. I want to know about the pain and suffering from way back…you know the 80’s. Tell me about parachute pants and rubicks cubes. Only having 3 channels on the tele, oh the humanity. Let me know about Nancy Reagon telling you to “just say no”. Craziness about pop rocks and soda…how ever did you make it out alive? Portable phones the size of a brief case, I can’t imagine. What else? I need to know. Make me straighten out my life with your stories of getting busted making a bootleg recording of the Doobie Brothers concert. What about baby Jessica? I know if I hear that story one more time, I will never throw a baby in a well. Don’t scare me by talking about the time before Apple computers.
I will be your Mail Escort…just beep me. Here is my pager number…555 867 5309!
