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“Ha ha.”
“I am being totally serious. There’s a huge market. Some guy paid me two hundred dollars to wear the same socks for a week. I did it, vacuum sealed them, and sent them to Ohio. Guy’s a regular now, we do six, seven transactions a year.”
“For dirty socks…” I deadpanned.
She shrugged. “The penis wants what the penis wants. I don’t kink shame,” she said. “I do kink question sometimes, but I never shame.”
I added it up in my head. “You make twelve hundred dollars a year like this?!”
“I make that just with that one guy.”
I gawked at her. “Oh my God. Is it safe?”
“Totally anonymous.”
I sat back into the seat. “Wow.”
The light turned green and she pulled forward.
I wore socks. And I could definitely use an extra twelve hundred a year.
“What else do you do?” I asked.
She shrugged. “For twenty bucks I’ll comment ‘Yikes’ on your ex’s last selfie.”
“Ha.”
“I love humbling terrible men. Most of the time I’ll do it for free. So, how’s it going with Mike?” she asked.
I was still shaking my head at the sock thing. “Good. He got his wisdom teeth out a few days ago, so I stayed over for the first time to help. Chris was there too for a bit. We hung out.”
“Huh. Can I be honest with you?”
“Sure?”
“I’m not digging the Mike thing,” she said.
I stopped mid mascara swipe. “What does that mean?”
“I’m not into it. I think you should dump him.”
“What?”
“Dump him. He’s not the one.”
I laughed. “How do you know?”
“I’m an empath—I can just tell. You’re not in love with him.”
“We just started dating. Nobody is in love with anybody yet.”
“He’s in love with you.”
“No, he isn’t,” I said, doing a final swipe of mascara and twisting the cap back on the tube.
“That boy’s got you burning low,” she said. “I’m very sensitive to energy. Your flame is itty bitty with him. Tea-candle sized.”
“Really.”
