I was always flirty my whole life, even before my first sexual experience on my 18th birthday. I honestly don't believe that I was a cock tease, however, but I had mastered the arts of eyelash batting, strut, hair flip, red lipstick application, and coy smile. I also never swore, never belittled anyone else whether behind their back or to their face, and was always clean and well-groomed - never slutty. It must have worked because I had all the dates that I wanted -- and many more that I politely turned down -- from my senior year in High School through and after college.
While I was -- no brag -- attractive, I was not academic. I wanted to be an actress, but never got the lead in any college play, and with my grades close to getting me bounced out of school my advisor said "Amy, you really need to give drama up. It's such a long shot to ever make it in Hollywood that it's not worth flunking out for."
Even though I gave up drama and other extracurricular activities -- besides dating -- I barely made it through college. However I did end up with a combined BA in psychology and sociology, an unusual offering at my school. I wasn't happy in the social science research job that I got right out of college but through serendipity found one that I thought really would be fun and would play to my strengths and be a surrogate for my non-existent drama career. I became a "relationship tester," or "operative."
"What's a relationship tester?" is a common question. It was something that I had never heard of myself before I was introduced to it by one of my girlfriends when I was twenty three.
A relationship tester tests the inclination of potential and actual boyfriends, girlfriends, wives, and husbands to cheat on their significant others by putting them in close, potentially compromising, contact with a member of the opposite sex with looks and intelligence comparable to their own. A relationship tester is usually hired by the significant other of the "mark" to be tested, and provides a report on the trustworthiness of the mark to the client after a night -- or sometimes two -- in close proximity with the mark in a social setting.
I interviewed with the owner of Deception, Inc., a guy by the name of Swanson Gathers, about a part-time position as a relationship tester. Swanson is an excitable, mid-40s, overweight, plain-looking guy with a quick wit trying to make it in an unusual business after moderate success owning a night club and other businesses. At my interview I impressed him enough for him to give me a "screen test."
In the "screen test," observed by Swanson, on the street I approached a good-looking guy wearing a wedding ring and started talking to him about some made-up issue -- I needed directions and advice about the city. The guy ended up fawning over me even though I was not being overly provocative, and actually asked me out. I politely declined, returned to Deception's offices, and Swanson offered me the job.
Swanson and Denise -- one of the experienced female testers working for Deception, Inc. -- explained the procedures to me. I would only target guys with looks and intelligence comparable to mine otherwise testing would not be fair (would a Gal Gadot look-alike approaching a five two, two hundred ninety pound guy with acne and a receding hairline be an honest test?). I would not have more than one drink when with the mark, and would never, ever, do drugs. Those rules were essential, but the number one rule, beyond essential, was NEVER to have sex of any kind with a mark; you do, you get fired (and could be liable to the client for civil damages).
"Do you have guy operatives too to test girlfriends and wives?" I asked.
"Sure," Denise replied as Swanson shook his head in agreement, "although not as many. Either there are fewer potentially cheating females, or guys are more clueless about stuff like that."
I needed to learn to surreptitiously operate the video and audio recording equipment that I was required to use for each encounter, I was told that I couldn't be overtly sexual in my approach; and my pay (and fashion allowance) for each job would be the same regardless of whether the guy ultimately came on to me or not.
I went on my first assignment, with Denise as backup, only a few days after being hired. The mark (James) was the fiancé of Lizzy, a rich bitch socialite who was getting cold feet about the upcoming nuptials because she thought that he might have a wandering eye. I was told what bar/dance club he would likely be at on a Friday night, given a couple of photos of him and information on his background, and went to work after running through operation of the recording equipment one more time.
It wasn't quite as easy as I thought it would be because I was used to having guys finding and coming-on to me. While I wouldn't actually be "coming-on" to James, I would definitely need to get him to notice me. I was apprehensive and stiff at first; however, once I relaxed a little my acting training kicked in. While I didn't make it in drama on the stage, if my first night was any indication I would make it in real life drama, because the entire scenario went well. Even though I did as told and was not overly provocative, James swooned over me. After only two hours he was blatantly begging me for sex. Excusing myself to go to the washroom, Denise and I exited the rear of the establishment and the next day I filed my report.
Swanson was pleased -- not because James turned out to be a cheater, but because when he reviewed the video and audio he was very impressed that I had followed all of the rules, was charming, and that my report was sweet and to the point. The normal situation is that the tester doesn't meet with the client -- only Swanson does -- unless the client specifically requests a meeting. In this case Lizzy asked for a meeting -- I think it was to size me up in person because although James was well documented on the video, I wasn't as easily seen.
After my meeting with Lizzy and Swanson I got the clear impression that James was history. Even though Lizzy was bitchy, she did genuinely thank me for -- as she put it -- "allowing me to dodge a bullet."
With my exciting new part time employment to look forward to, a forty hour a week social science research job suddenly wasn't as tedious as it had been.
***************
Working for Deception, Inc. was worthwhile for me in another way. I met my husband "on the job." That occurred in a unique manner.
Bryce Hubbard was engaged to Merilee Wallace. Merilee's father, Chester, was one of the wealthiest men in our metropolitan area. In this unusual situation, Chester was the client -- not Merilee -- and at the time I met him I doubted that he would ever let Merilee know that he had hired Deception, Inc. to check up on Bryce.
Making this situation even more unusual, Chester Wallace insisted on meeting with Bryce's relationship-testing operative before the test. That was how I found myself in the Deception, Inc. conference room on a Tuesday night with Swanson and Chester. I was told to wear what I would on the test night, so I put on a yellow print sundress, lavender three inch high heels, small golden earrings, and a shell necklace.
Chester Wallace is a very distinguished looking man with an air about him indicating that he is used to getting his way and having people ask "How high?" when he says "Jump!" From his twice-over glance of me, and his unnecessarily long and firm handshake, I knew that I would be getting some real world use of the skills I hopefully had developed during practice scenarios that played out in my "Negotiating Psychology 301" course my senior year in college, taught by hard-ass Professor Bernice Simpson.
After only a modicum of pleasantries Chester -- with a look between self-satisfied and a sneer on his face -- asked "So Amy, do you act like a slut or whore during your testing, and do you often fuck your target?"
I smiled at him while Swanson got a horrified look on his face. Then I turned to Swanson and politely said "Swanson, please leave Mr. Wallace and me alone."
"You can call me 'Chester.' Amy-dear," Mr. Wallace chided.
Swanson was sputtering so I turned to him and again said "Swanson -- leave Mr. Wallace and me alone -- that means get out right now."
Swanson sputtered some more, then said "Excuse me" to Wallace and left.
The door had barely clicked shut when in a soft voice, with a smile on my face, I said "Mr. Wallace I know that you're used to being a BFD and having people cater to your every whim and ignore your insults. I, however, am an independent contractor and not one of your lackeys and I really don't care what a BFD you think that you are, you'll treat me with respect. Is that clear enough even for your normally closed and simple mind to understand?"
His sneer turned into a frown and he huffed "You can't talk to me like that, I'm the client."
Maintaining my sweet disposition I continued "Oh, but I just did. Now are you going to huff out of here and demand that Swanson fire me and make sure -- what's the cliché -- that 'I'll never work in this town again' -- or are you going to ask me polite, relevant, actual questions. One more question like the last one and you won't have to huff out of here -- I'll quietly leave with a 'Good day, Mr. Wallace -- I wish you well in your future endeavors.'"
Wallace stared at me for at least a full minute with a half frown on his face. I stared back with a smile on my face. Then he shrugged his shoulders and said "OK, now that we've got that settled, let me ask you..." after which we proceeded to have an intelligent discussion during which I provided him with information about the ins and outs of my approach, including showing him some of my "vamping" techniques, and reiterated to him the rules about no drugs or sex with the mark. We were both unfailingly polite. After about a half hour of give-and-take he concluded with:
"Thank you very much Amy. I've learned a lot from you, and am tempted to offer you a job with one of my companies, but I couldn't stand the blow to my ego when you declined. However, I wonder if there is one thing that you would be willing to do for me?" he continued as he pulled a business card and pen out of his open briefcase and started writing on the card.
"I'm open to suggestion," I smiled.
Wallace finished writing and then handed the card to me. "Instead of the shell necklace, when you meet my erstwhile son-in-law Bryce could you put on a gold necklace. The card I have just handed to you is my instruction to John Peters, the manager of Galt Jewelry, to charge a gold necklace to my account. Please don't spend more than $2,000, but no less than $1,000 -- I get a 10% discount so nothing with a price less than $1100 or more than $2200 please."
"I certainly will, Mr. Wallace -- Chester," I added with a grin, getting one from him in return. "A gold necklace would go much better with this outfit but I simply did not have a suitable one. Where should I return the necklace once I file my report?"
"There's no need to return it. It's yours -- consider it a bonus," he smiled.
