I resisted the urge to laugh at myself. I could tell myself that I would do a lot of things for money, but at the end of the day, I had my limits. Maybe I could whip a man for a month for a hundred grand … if I didn’t also have to sleep with him. I would not sell my body. I wasn’t some hooker. Though as the thought crossed my mind, I saw another ad that caught my interest.
“Lucy, there’s an ad here that is looking for virgins. They will pay fifty grand to deflower you.”
“Hell no!” Lucy looked over her shoulder at me as she scrubbed the pot I’d burned kidney beans into the night before. “We are not selling our virginity for fifty grand!”
“What if we auctioned it? I’ve heard of women doing that on eBay and stuff and getting, like, a million dollars.” I held back a grin so she would think I was being serious.
“You’d move back to Florida and I’d move back to California before I let that happen.” She rolled her eyes at me. “We want to lose our virginity to men we love, to passionate guys with six packs and dimples, not some old fat ass with bigger boobs than us and sagging balls.”
“Who says the guys that buy our virginity are old and have sagging balls? Also, I don’t really want a guy with a six-pack. You know I prefer a guy with more meat. I want a guy with muscles, yes, but not too muscular.”
“Savannah, you are not selling your virginity to Billy Bob in Kentucky with no teeth and no hair.”
“That’s rude. I tell you, Kentucky has some hot-ass guys.”
“They aren’t bidding on your virginity ...” She raised an eyebrow at me and shook her head. “End of discussion. Apply for those jobs already, and then we can look online and see if we find any other suitable options.”
“Yeah, because these options are so great ...” I said under my breath and turned back to my laptop and typed.
My mom always said if something sounds too good to be true, it is. But still, this was New York, and there were so many quirky millionaires and billionaires, maybe it would be legit.
To Whom It May Concern,
I would like to request more information about the assistant job I saw advertised in Sunday’s newspaper with the high six-figure starting salary. I have a bachelor's degree in English and many years of work experience and I think I would be a suitable fit for the job. My questions are as follows:
1. What is the exact nature of the job?
2. Is it a strict requirement that I live with the boss? If so, can I have friends and others over?
3. The ad states there is a uniform. May I ask what sort of uniform? And why?
Also, in lieu of sending a photograph, I’ve sent a picture of my very friendly dog who would also join me if I were to get the job.
Yours sincerely,
Savannah Carter
I reread the email I’d sent and nodded. This sounded good, and the photo of Jolene was cute. Who could say no to living with her? I wanted to ask more questions but figured I’d wait for a response first. I hit send and then grabbed my phone to call about the other job. It rang twice before someone answered.
“Talia Enterprises, how may I help you?” The voice was sharp, but I tried to not let it dissuade me.
“Hello, my name is Savannah Carter. I’m calling about the job I saw advertised in the newspaper.”
“Which one?”
“The sales job making six figures.”
“Oh yes, yes, hold on, please.” Before I could answer, the sound of music was playing in my ear. I debated hanging up the phone but stayed on the line. Just because the receptionist sounded like a bitch didn’t mean that everyone at the company would be hostile and mean.
“Hello, Vanna, this is John Boy speaking.”
“It’s Savannah.” His name was not really John Boy, was it?
“Yes, Vanna. How can I help you?”
“I was calling about the job.”
“Which job?”
I withheld a sigh. “The sales job.”
“Aw, great, great. This is an awesome opportunity. Totally awesome. For the right person. High salary. Great benefits. There’s a lot of money to be made.”
“Well, that sounds great.” I could feel myself perking up. “So, can I get some more information?”
“Of course, of course.” He sounded overly friendly now. “We are the fastest-growing company in the last five years. I started in sales myself, and now I’m a manager. Yup, yup. Very great company. I think you will love it. Great opportunity and lots of money. If you have expensive tastes, you will want to work here.”
“Hmm, okay, but uhm, what exactly do you sell, and what would my job be? What kind of sales?”
“Have you ever sold anything before?” he asked me cheerfully. “Doesn’t matter if you haven’t, of course, we will train you. All training is provided in our state-of-the-art office in New Jersey. Where do you live?”
“I’m in Manhattan.”
“Oh, okay, well, just a train ride away. We’re in Jersey City. You can see the skyline from Jersey City, did you know that? Great bang for your buck.”
“Uhm, okay. And what do you sell again?”
“Do you have a lot of friends? Or any friends looking for a job? Or a great investment opportunity?”
“Investment opportunity?” I wrinkled my nose and looked over to Lucy who was smiling at me, looking hopeful once again. I knew it worried her that we’d be kicked out if I couldn’t find my half of the rent, so I tried to ignore the warning bells ringing in my head. “What do you mean?”
“Oh, nothing, nothing. Can you come for an interview tomorrow morning? Around ten a.m.”
“Yes. Yes, I can.”
“Okay great, bring your photo ID and social security card and bank account information so we can fill out the paperwork.”
“The paperwork?”
“So you can get started as soon as possible.”
“But I don’t have the job yet.”
“Oh, I can tell you will be a great fit at Talia Enterprises, the interview is just a formality. I’ll see you tomorrow. Just Google Talia Enterprises New Jersey for our address. Once you arrive, ask for John Boy and I’ll come and take you to my office.”
“Do you have a last name, John Boy, or is it Walton?”
“Sorry what?” He sounded confused. “Why do you want to know my last name? Who do you work for? You’re not with the SEC, are you?”
“What?” It was my turn to sound confused. “I don’t work for anyone. That’s why I’m applying for this job. I was making a joke because the only John Boy I know was in The Waltons.”
“I don’t follow the Walmart family, sorry.”
“What?” I closed my mouth as it fell open. “The Waltons is an old TV show. Maybe you never saw it? Sorry, I grew up with it. My mom loved to make me watch the shows she grew up with.”
“Okay, well, good, good. See you tomorrow. Oh, and we have a business casual policy, so dress to impress. Goodbye, Vanna.” And with that, he hung up the phone.
I stared at my black screen for a few seconds and I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
“Well, I have some good-ish news.” I stood up and walked over to the kitchen. “I think I might have a job. Bad news is, the hiring manager sounds like he’s out of his mind, but hopefully, I won’t be working under him.”