Stories

clive

I'm writing this from a coffee shop. That's right, Vegas escort girl blogging in a coffee shop. Because I'm lonely. I know, I know, it seems silly to be a lonely escort, but I am. Why? Well, my lifestyle is prohibitive. Let me tell you about Clive, and maybe you'll understand...

One Day When I Was Really Sad...

One day, when I was feeling lonely and getting ready to go out with a client, my phone rang. My client was on the other end. My sexy, tall, dark, handsome client. The client that I wanted to spend the evening with. We were supposed to cuddle up in a hotel room, nice and naked and happy. What happened, though? He canceled. He told me to keep what he'd sent me and that he wouldn't be back in Vegas. After this, I was kinda sad. I... really liked this client. His name wasn't Clive though. We're almost to Clive.

Feeling sad that my client canceled on me, but happy that I was getting paid for my evening off, I hit the town. I went to a coffee shop. The same one I'm at now. And then, I got restless and I left. So, after meandering around, went to a pet store. I looked at these adoptable dogs and kitties, and then I realized that I wouldn't have time for them. So, I looked at ferrets, and then I realized that I wouldn't have time for them. So, I looked at fishies, and I realized that I just might have time for them! I bought a big, pretty beta that for some reason reminded me of Clive Cussler (don't ask), and I got him a nice tank setup.

I took Clive home and I set him up. He kept me company for the night, and then he kept me company for a few months. What happened next? That same client, "not Clive," called me from Italy. He wanted me to come stay with him for three weeks, and he was paying very, very nicely.

I Was Heading To Italy!!

I went to the pet store and asked the ladies there what Clive would need to be okay for three weeks. They sold me a food stone thingy and I took it home for Clive. I plopped it in his tank and then I left for sexy Italy with sexy not Clive.

Italy was ohmygod amazing. My client was ohmygod hot. The... "Downtime" was ohmygod mind blowing. And the first-class plane trip home was ohmygod luxurious. Do you know what else was ohmygod? The smell of my apartment when I got home... Uhg. I remember it even today.

Apparently Clive died pretty soon after I left, and then he rotted. The moment I walked in my door, I knew what had happened, and I felt my eyes water up. Not just from the stink, but from the sadness of losing Clive. If I can't take care of my fishy, what can I take care of? It made me sad and I haven't had a pet since.

In my line of work, I don't get many friends, I can't date and... I can't have pets. Not even a single fish. So, that's why I'm at the coffee shop today, and I wrote this post to stop myself from going to the pet store and getting another doomed fishy. :(

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