Page 74 of 13 Rules For Fantastic Phone Sex

I nod. I can see how something like that would be incredibly enticing for a busy single guy with a career and not a lot of time to date. Or frustrated with dating. Relationships can be hard. I can appreciate how cutting through dating and having an on-demand girlfriend would be enticing. As a guy who hasn’t had sex in well over a year, I empathize.

The interview switches to a gorgeous woman—blonde, with peaches-and-cream skin, deep blue eyes, and a toothy grin, wearing a pastel pink cardigan she somehow manages to make look girl next door and sexy. Kait’s friend? Maybe.

“Marin was an Ohio State ‘Girl of the Big Ten’ for a famous adult website. Her issue featured coeds from all fourteen schools that make up the Big Ten.” Ohio State. Yup, Kait’s friend.

“Tell us about your experience, Marin.”

“After posing, I received some interesting offers. A girl with a ‘title’ such as Playboy Bunny or Miss Ohio or Miss Circleville Pumpkin Queen is a status symbol. I was asked to provide the girlfriend experience to men asking for me by name. The escort service that called me charged incredible fees and offered significant compensation. I know several other women who were in the same issue also received generous offers for their time.”

“Was sex an absolute requirement of these offers?”

“There was an unspoken expectation. I was told that some gentlemen would be happy without intercourse, but not all.”

“They were inquiring on behalf of multiple individuals who were interested in meeting you?”

“Right. You can call this service and name the woman you want, whether she’s a sex worker or maybe an up-and-coming starving actress or musician, and they’ll attempt to make that connection, matchmaking for sex work.”

“Did you do it?”

“I did not.”

“Why not, Marin?”

“I was on academic scholarship, so I didn’t feel the financial pressure that many of my friends did, and I was in a monogamous relationship at the time, so it wasn’t appropriate for me.” Go, Marin—smart and beautiful. Like Kait.

“Is there ever a time and place where being paid for sex is appropriate?”

“I would never presume to tell someone else what they should do with their body.”

“Even prostitution?” He’s harder on Marin than Chad. Interesting.

“When you offer people with no money tens of thousands of dollars for a few hours of their time, you shouldn’t pretend to be shocked if they accept.” I like her. She’s… ballsy?

Back to a whining Chad. I bet ten dollars that Kait will tell me how much she hates this guy when we talk next. “I turned down dates because it was like cheating on Courtney. I could be married with children now. Instead, I’m out over three hundred thousand dollars and alone.”

“Did you ever try to end things, Chad?”

“I did. I needed to break things off, but when I told her, she made up a story about her sick grandmother and how she needed a few days to lean on me, then she would let me go.”

“What happened?”

“I was there for her during the rough patch, supported her emotionally and physically, then we were back into our pattern of every other Friday. When I mentioned wanting to stop again a few months later, Courtney came up with a getaway I couldn’t resist.”

Okay, now that wasn’t at all cool, Courtney/Margaret. Not at all. Throwing Granny under the bus to keep him nice and spendy is not okay.

“Do you have any advice for men out there?” Yes, Chad, tell all of us men your wisdom. Sigh.

“If it’s too good to be true, it is. She sent me gifts, but in retrospect, she would send me small things that cost nowhere near what I was paying.”

It’s not about the money, Chad.

It’s about the effort, the thought behind it, the pleasure of opening a gift chosen with so much care that it takes your breath away. It’s about her handwriting being so beautiful that it reminds you of calligraphy, a small piece of art made exclusively for you. It’s about someone notoriously frugal putting postage on a cute little note sent for no other reason than kindness.

Kait told on herself a few weeks ago. She was going to send me the White Album on vinyl, then found out they have serial numbers, and some are going for tens of thousands of dollars. Instead, she sent me an album that “didn’t require a PhD to purchase.” It was a pristine copy of The Verve’s Urban Hymns album. Less than fifty bucks when I’m spending hundreds an hour to speak to her, but I loved it. I didn’t want to take the cellophane off, but Kait insisted, fortunately, because “Lucky Man” sounds fantastic with the crackle of vinyl.

Four days later, another copy arrived, also in original cellophane, with a note that said, “Henry, you may leave this one wrapped.” She’s a great gift giver, usually small things for no particular reason, snack deliveries, flowers—no one had ever sent me flowers before. She and Julian conspire to make random acts of kindness happen. It’s a big deal for her to spend money, and that makes even her inexpensive presents valuable to me.

The things she does that cost nothing, like creating playlists for me, make me feel seen. Once in a while, she introduces me to a song that I love. Like a duet with Bono and Michael Hutchence that I’d somehow never heard called “Slide Away.” The value of her presents is not in the price, but a guy like Chad wouldn’t understand that.