He lectured me on not being a practicing Jew and then spoke for hours about how guilty he felt for calling. I hope he has found some peace of mind because he seemed so...tortured. I felt almost affectionate to some of them and enjoyed the calls.I listened to men who felt such guilt and pain and loneliness.Sometimes I clutched the phone tight as I gave well-meaning advice and listened to stories that stayed with me, still to this day.Some men sounded familiar, one like a famous person, one reminded me of my Grandpa who passed away.The only work I could find was the part time selling of frozen food to posh people.(Melo)dramatic events over the past couple of years left me feeling drained and lost (and lacking in self esteem without even realising it).Bullies at Uni, parents divorce, all the ultimate of #firstworldproblems.They wanted to know the kinds of men who called, and the answer was usually white, usually middle aged, usually married and always so heart-achingly lonely.The very strangest request was (cleverly dubbed by my friends) Chicken Man.
I had no idea of what direction I wanted my life to take.Sometimes I was utterly bored and I’d pray for them to finish and hang up.Sometimes I was fascinated when it became clear to me that there is no ‘normal’ sexuality.Sometimes I’d laugh with surprise as people were real with me and made jokes.Sometimes all I was required to do was moan over and over (and I learnt to keep a glass of water by the bed for such dry-throat inducing activities).
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I spent hours, days, weeks, months, procrastinating, the more jobs I applied for the less I knew what I wanted to do.