Copyright 2012, 2020 Lisa Summers
Samantha just stared back at Trish, a deep foreboding, mixed with confusion over her just concluded dream, clouding her ability to respond right away.
She was lying naked in a tub of cooling water, having just awakened from an extremely erotic dream, while her fully-clothed roommate stood looking at her expectantly, clueless to Samantha's inner turmoil.
"I said, 'Dave called'... Jeez, clear those cobwebs, honey!" Trish smiled to show that she was just kidding, but she turned on her heel and left the bathroom. Samantha followed suit, wrapping herself in a bath towel and padding out to the living room, her thoughts filled with recently departed visions of a fantasy sex romp with Trish, and being dumped by Dave, her boyfriend.
Seeing the flag for new email on her phone, she checked those first. Sure enough, there was one from Dave. Reading it, her vision of his ending their relationship was sadly fulfilled. Instead of reflecting on the eeriness of her having seen this beforehand somehow, the pain was muted by her foreknowledge, in part, but even more by her curiosity about where her new fascination with Trish had come from.
"What was it?" Trish asked.
"Oh, Dave dumped me," Samantha responded off-handedly. Trish looked at her curiously.
"I'm so sorry, honey," Trish said. When Samantha didn't respond right away, Trish added, "You don't seem real broken up about it."
"Yeah, it's just...strange," Samantha responded.
"Strange?" Trish said.
"Yeah...I had a dream that he was gonna do that," Samantha said. She decided to leave out her fantasy fuck fest with Trish.
"That is strange," Trish responded. "Well, anyway, I'm still kind of sorry. But honestly, you're way too good for that slug."
Samantha smiled at her. "You're really a good friend," she said. "You have no idea how good of a friend my subconscious apparently thinks you are," Samantha thought to herself.
"I need to worry more about my job loss, than I do Dave," Samantha announced. "If you've got any ideas, I'd appreciate them..."
"Well...you could open up your own business?" Trish ventured.
"Doing what?" Samantha asked.
"What are you best at?" Trish responded.
"Fucking, according to Dave."
"Well, there you go," Trish replied, grinning.
"Um, yes, good idea, except that it's illegal and yucky," Samantha said.
"There's always tons of 'escort' ads on Greg's List," Trish said. "How illegal could it be?"
"Really?" Samantha said. "How did you know there's tons of them?"
"Never mind, but check it out," Trish suggested, turning the conversation away from her and back to Sam.
"Yeah, okay," Samantha said. "After I look for a real job."
...
A month later, after striking out on every legitimate job lead she'd found, Samantha decided to at least look into that part of Greg's List, the online guide to all sorts of 'opportunities' in town. With Trish's help, she pored through the entries.
"It seems like if you're offering some kind of legitimate service that you can get paid for, and sex just kind of happens, that you can get away with fucking for money," Trish reasoned. Samantha was in no position to dispute it, as her funds were rapidly dwindling, and the rent would soon be due...again.
"But...how do you avoid skeevy people, and just plain bad people?" Samantha asked.
"Well, if you went for married couples, that'd probably be safer. And I could help you out, be your pimp or bodyguard or something."
"You mean like in that HBO show?" Samantha asked.
"Well, I wouldn't really be your pimp or collect money, I'd just be there to call the police if you got in a bad way."
"Call the cops? But I'd be a whore. Whores don't call cops," Samantha said.
"You'd be 'Helena the Handywoman,'" Trish said. "Handywomen have every right to call the cops if they get in trouble."
"'Helena the Handywoman'"? Samantha said, dubiously. "Still, it sounds like a good idea...an idea, anyway."
After perusing a good number of notices, found in almost every section of Greg's List, Samantha and Trish came up with one they thought might work:
"Talented, cute and personable 'Jill of all trades' handywoman looking for married couples in search of help around the house. I can't guarantee that I'll do the work perfectly, but I can guarantee your ultimate satisfaction! Bla blah blah..."
At first, Samantha argued that, by wording it that way, "No one wants a handywoman who's not that great at fixing stuff!" After Trish stared at her wordlessly for about a minute, it occurred to Sam that that was exactly her desired demographic, and then entering the ad went smoothly from that point on.
It only took two days to start getting results. Unfortunately, most of the responses were from horny single men - desirable for their money and their need for "the product," as Trish called it, but undesirable due to their risk quotient.
However, one response looked interesting. "Hi Jill, my husband and I are looking for someone who meets your listed credentials. Could we get together at a public place of your choosing, so that we can all be sure that this is legitimate? If you do good work, we'll pay top rates. - Kim and Alexis Bonneville"
"That sounds promising," Trish said. "And they sound rich. But it's your ass, so to speak. What do you think?"
"I guess it would be okay," Samantha responded. "Do you think I'm doing the right thing?"
"It's not like you're going to make it your career, right?" At Samantha's nod, Trish added, "So this can just 'fill in the gaps.'"