Talking about hooking with mom. Our breakfast chat.

16 Nov

Cue me and mom, sitting at the kitchen table.

I tell her about the video.
How I’m having creative differences….
Which will be resolved…….
Nevermind that I’m going to vomit from the stress.
Again.
Nevermind that I cried for an hour last nite about how my life is ruined….

Yes….when you are a hooker, you cry because of stress.
Either because of the fucked up shit that goes on at work
or because of the money you don’t have because you had to get away from work.
The mere fear of having to be a ho for the better part of one’s life…
is enough to make any regular girl like me cry.

And Yes,
I cried about it AGAIN, last night.
Imagine me,
My beautiful bodacious 34D self…
a sniveling mess.

If you want a mental picture of my mom…she is Blonde, cute, sweet…sunshiney.
I am her dark and sultry daughter but BB’s mom is ALL SUNSHINE.
After all…when she did her own business, her nickname for herself when she pretended to be her own secretary on the phone was (Shit you not) Barbara Baker.

So when my mom gets here in the morning
I talk to her about….stuff. With the video. With kickstarter.
About how stuff is not right…..
and what does she say.
She says, “Well maybe if the video is not turning out how it is supposed to….maybe its a sign that you should walk away from it and focus on your art career.
Because the more people that know, the more you risk getting found out…and do you really want people to find out?”

I tell her,
Mom,
what exactly have I LOST by having this job?
I’ve lost opportunities to date men…
Men who probably weren’t that into me anyway…..

I lost my Ex, who was not too bright….
The friends I lost were all flakey to begin with…
The friends I’ve MADE – sure I can count them on one hand, the good ones – but they are better than the friends I made before I had this job.
All the people who were cool before are still my friend now. , and guess what, they don’t care.”

“I’m just saying one day it could come to bite you in the ass and, maybe you don’t want that.” She says.

I say,
“We live in America Mom.
Nobody cares about Bill Clinton and Cigars,
We still love Tiger Woods,
nobody cares that Vanessa Williams showed her tits once.
Nobody gives a shit that Demi Lovato is in Rehab and if she’s a DISNEY STAR, then I don’t think anybody will give a rat’s ass about me.”

“Charlie Sheen just blew a shitload of money on blow and a hooker, who theoretically is “not” a hooker, because she did internet porn.” I say.

Then mom chimes in!
About how I’M RIGHT!
With this GLEEFUL LITTLE SMILE ON HER FACE!
“Well yea it took 15 years but they talk about Bill Clinton and what an amazing president he was and the fact that he was impeached for the Monica thing never comes up. They only care what a great president he was.”

“See!” I say.
“There’s hope for me then. No one will care.”

I tell her,
“Diablo Cody was a stripper. Do you think anybody cares? Everybody knows that strippers do more than that.”

“Diablo who?”

“That woman who won the award for writing that movie ‘Juno’ – the one about Teenage Pregnancy.”

“Oh right that was a good movie.” says mom.
“Yeah she used to be a stripper.”
“NO ONE CARES.”
“She got other opportunities. Better opportunities came along.”

YEA. My mom. The coolest on the fucking planet.
My mom also revealed that once,
she cried about how scared she was of my brother, to keep him in jail for longer, so he would get clean off drugs.
Not the brother who told me about this job.
The other one.
Don’t worry, I have lots of brothers and sisters, you will never figure out my family tree.
He’s not really that related to me.
Thank god.

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