Tag Archives: jerks

complaints, mental health, psychology, sexism

The home invasion has (mostly) ended, but now I feel traumatized…

Today’s post might make the most sense to people who actually know and like me. Most of the people who read my blog, don’t actually know me in person. As I’ve also learned in the past, some people who read my blog might have met me offline, but they dislike me. In spite of my training in social work, I know I don’t have wonderful people skills. I’m not one of those people who is a friend to everyone. That’s more Bill’s department. When I’m mistreated or disrespected, I tend to react in an angry way.

This week has been very challenging for me. Once again, I’ve been mostly trying to mind my own business, and have inadvertently offended someone for just being myself, living in my own space. But… I swear, it’s not my intention to cause people problems. I really just want to be left alone. As long as you show me basic respect and consideration, I won’t intentionally give you any problems.

Last night, Bill and I were talking about the workers who have spent the whole week putting in new windows. We started to piece together what happened. I could be wrong, but I have a feeling that those guys were from somewhere in eastern Europe, and at least one of them has a very old fashioned and disrespectful view of women. They were sent over to put the windows in a home that my husband is paying a lot of rent for, but as he had to work, and the landlord had his own stuff to attend to, they were left alone with me. Consequently, I was on the receiving end of their evident misogyny. Maybe they would have been better behaved if they’d thought I was more “fuckable”.

On Monday, I told our landlord that, because of our dog, I didn’t want the window guys leaving the front door open. I don’t actually think Noyzi would run away, but we did have a tragic incident happen three years ago when we tried to adopt a different dog. He was brought to us in a pet taxi, taken out of the car, and put on the ground with no collar or leash. Before we had a chance to so much as pet him, he took off running, and wound up getting killed on the Autobahn, which is located very close to our home.

Not only was it devastating for us to watch the dog run off and get killed, but it also created significant financial and legal issues, not for us, but for the dog rescue and the pet taxi driver, as well as the person who hit the dog and anyone in the car with them. There was a lawsuit and an insurance claim, and we were left with the horrifying memories of a dog we had only wanted to love, being killed on a high speed highway. I simply wanted to prevent that scenario from happening again.

We have always been very careful about not letting our dogs run loose, but ever since that incident, we’ve been especially aware of what can happen if the dog gets out. That’s why I was very insistent that the front door stayed closed. It’s called responsible dog ownership, but also, I am keenly aware of the liability issues of letting a dog run amok. Noyzi doesn’t usually run out the front door, but he is a shy dog who scares easily. Animals aren’t always predictable. I didn’t want to take the risk, especially since there were strangers in the house.

I don’t think the landlord understood this reasoning, as we haven’t really told him about the incident with the dog that got killed. There hasn’t been a reason or a real opportunity to talk to him about it. It happened the day that COVID-19 shut down the world. I haven’t found him to be the best listener– at least not to me. Anyway, I did mention to him that I wanted the front door closed, but he either didn’t tell the window guys, or he did, and they didn’t heed the request.

The window guys also left chocolate out where the dog could get to it. Again, bless Noyzi for being a very good boy who doesn’t eat things that aren’t his. Not all dogs are like that, though. I don’t know where those guys come from, but it’s very possible or likely that they come from a culture that doesn’t value dogs. Clearly, they had no respect for my dog, who is a member of this family and this household. Noyzi could have gotten sick if he’d eaten the chocolate.

The first day they were in the house, they repeatedly left the door open. I finally tried to ask them to keep it closed, but the older (apparently sexist) guy very abruptly cut me off, saying he doesn’t speak English. That response, quite correctly, made me angry– not because he didn’t speak English, but because he clearly didn’t care what I had to say. He continued to leave the door open until the landlord finally asked them to keep it closed. To their credit, they did honor that request. However, they continued to be disrespectful to me by blaring their music, leaving messes, and acting like they were the only ones in the house. They were at the landlord’s house last week, and I didn’t see them acting that way when he was getting his new windows installed.

After a day or two, the landlord came over with the carpenter who is supposed to come here today. He made a comment to me that now makes me wonder if the window guys complained to him about me. The landlord said in kind of a firm way that the work “needed to be done.” I never had a problem with the work being done. I didn’t want to be in the way, and in fact, mostly stayed upstairs, once those guys went downstairs.

On the first day they were in the house, I played music in my living room, to help drown out their crappy Schlager music. I figure, since this is my home, that was my right. But other than that, I mostly stayed upstairs. On the second day, when they were still upstairs, I even sat at my table wearing headphones, instead of playing music on my HomePod.

On day three, there was a noticeable change in their behavior. It became even more rude, inconsiderate, and disrespectful. The guys came over and just walked into the house without even ringing the doorbell. I did unlock the door for them, but I would expect that upon first arrival at a home that isn’t theirs, they would at least announce themselves by ringing the bell. It’s basic respect, professionalism, decency, and good manners.

On day four, I noticed that the guys were even less professional. They put their equipment on my furniture, and used my patio table and chairs. On day three, they sat their sweaty asses on my new cushions, which I removed before they arrived yesterday, and yesterday, I caught them both with their feet up on my chairs. I got photos of one of them kicking back in the yard. Where I come from, this is blatant disrespect. If my husband had been home, or the landlord had been supervising, I feel pretty sure they wouldn’t have been doing that shit. They knew I saw them doing it, too, although I’ll bet they didn’t expect me to take photos.

Whose house is it, anyway?
Even though we’re renting, that’s still my furniture that dickhead has his feet propped up on.

So yes, I was pretty angry… I feel stressed and anxious when people come into my home, but I truly do try to cooperate. All I ask for is common courtesy and consideration. Those guys acted like I had no rights at all.

Honestly… I love living in Germany, and Bill has a good job that he enjoys. But I am really getting tired of being a renter and having to tolerate this kind of disrespectful, intrusive bullshit. I do understand that good help is hard to find, and these guys did do competent work. But the way they behaved while working in my home was unacceptable and inexcusable. I am still very upset about it, although the windows are at least done.

All I want is to be left alone. I don’t go out of my way to cause problems for people. I feel like I should be able to be in my own home without having handymen coming in and acting like total barbarians as they take over the house. I probably wouldn’t have minded that they camped out on my furniture if they had been courteous enough to ask. But they just took liberties. I wonder what they’re like when they have sex. They probably act the same way… with a total lack of consideration and decorum.

My first instinct yesterday was to yell at those guys to get off my furniture and go eat lunch in their truck. But I realized that if I did yell at them, they’d just tell our landlord that I refused to let them work. Because I did not confront them at the time, we got the work done. I’m sure they didn’t realize I got photos of them loafing in the backyard, sock clad feet on my chairs. I don’t know if the landlord will care. I know I would, if I was paying people to do a job for me, especially if their atrocious behavior was also negatively affecting people who were paying me.

I’m sure the landlord doesn’t think I do anything important with my time. Maybe that causes him to have less respect for me, the way our ex landlady apparently had less respect for me. As long as the bills are paid, I don’t see why it’s anyone’s business what I do all day, anyway. But, as anyone who follows this blog knows, I do actually do some things during the day. Maybe they aren’t things that other people think are important, but they’re important to me. It was a sacrifice for me to give up my quiet and privacy so that this work could be done on a house that I don’t own, but we pay a lot of money to rent.

I don’t know what I’m going to do the next time a big job needs to be done. I came very close to losing my shit this week. I wouldn’t have wanted to leave those guys alone in the house, either. They didn’t have respect for my home or possessions when I was here. Imagine what they would do if no one was watching them.

I feel anxiety about the guy coming today, too. I know moving isn’t the answer… but this week has made me want to move. Or just die, maybe. Dying would mean I don’t have to deal with this shit again. Seriously. I just want to be left alone. It’s really all I ask. If I can’t be left alone in my own home, I just don’t know what to do.

Anyway, those workers obviously needed to be supervised by someone with a penis. I get the sense that the older guy, who was blatantly rude to me, treats the women in his life like shit. I hope and pray I never have to see his face again. He probably told our landlord that I was acting like a hostile bitch for no reason, and the landlord just believed him, even though we’ve lived here for going on five years. I don’t act bitchy to people unless they give me good reason. Not honoring simple requests, blaring awful music, taking liberties with my possessions, leaving messes, acting like my dog and I are intruders in our own home, loitering in my backyard and in front of the house at the end of the day… those are all good reasons for me to be bitchy, in my opinion.

Bill says he is going to have a chat with our landlord about this… I’m sure the landlord just wanted to get the work done and, as usual, it seemed easiest to just inconvenience me and expect me to keep sweet. And when I wasn’t sweet, they just assumed that I’m the whole problem. Story of my fucking life since birth! Maybe I should have complained the minute they barged in without ringing the doorbell or parked their asses on my chairs. But, at that point, I just wanted the pain to end.

I’ve been having some health issues lately that make me think I probably should seek out a doctor’s services. But honestly, I think I’d rather just be beamed up out of this existence. I’m tired of being a problem to other people. And I realize it’s kind of disturbing and weird for me to write that, and maybe it’s strange for other people to read it… but it’s kind of how I feel right now. Welcome to chronic depression and anxiety. Those men treated me like I was less than nothing in my own home. Now, I feel depressed, hurt, and frankly, enraged. That’s no way to spend a Friday.

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complaints, money, rants, work

Repost: Got big expectations? Want quality? Well, quality costs… and right here is where you start paying for sweat.

Here’s a repost from my original blog. I wrote this on September 23, 2018. As Christmas approaches, I think it’s relevant… and I’m still deciding on today’s topic. My mom made the socks on my feet in the featured photo, too.

A friend shared this post from Scary Mommy yesterday.  It was originally written in March 2018, but somehow I missed the viral round.  I entertained myself by reading it as Bill and I came home from our excursion.  The Scary Mommy story was gleaned from a Reddit post that shows just how completely rude and entitled people can be sometimes, especially toward creative people.  

A guy on Instagram asked a crocheter named Krafty Katt if she takes commissions.  He wanted her to make him a queen sized blanket using expensive wool yarn and employing a complicated stitch.  She told him she’d do it for $400, with $200 paid upfront.  The guy’s response was very profane and he basically told her she was ripping him off because he could go to Walmart and buy a blanket for $15. He used every trick in the book to get her to lower her price for creating something stunning by hand.  She wouldn’t budge and eventually doubled her price.  I offer mad props to her for being so calm and handling that jerk the way she did.

I must admit, she was a whole lot nicer than I would have been.  I probably would have told the guy to go eat a bag of dicks the first time he started using foul language toward me.  Some people don’t seem to understand that handmade goods don’t just cost the price of the supplies.  They also require time and effort.  The guy’s insistence that the crocheter could buy yarn on sale and basically work for free was extremely insulting, especially considering how rude he was being to her.

My mom was making this the last time I visited her.

She also made this.  I did not inherit any of my mom’s talent for needle creations.  My sister got that gift.

I probably have even more insight into this phenomenon than other people do.  I grew up watching my parents making money from their creativity.  My mom ran her own knitting and needlework shop for over 25 years.  She ran her shop out of our home and taught countless people, mostly women, how to knit, needlepoint, cross stitch, and candle wick.  When I was really young, she even used to make clothes for me.  My mom has a gift for making beautiful things and she sold high quality supplies to like minded people who wanted to create beautiful things.  She probably knows all about the yarn Krafty Katt wrote of on her Reddit thread.

My dad had a complementary business doing custom picture framing and selling art by local artists.  Both of my parents made their livings laboring over beautiful things.  People would bring their creations to my mom when they needed help.  I remember her “blocking” needlepoint done by other women or finishing up projects for people.  I remember my dad and his assistant, Deborah (who took over his business), creatively framing pictures and making shadow boxes for patrons.  It all took a lot time, effort, skill, and most of all, vision.  Most people were very pleased with the end results, although some bristled at the cost.

Edited to add for 2021– this is my mom and one of her creations. She’s in her 80s and still does this…

Besides running her own knitting and needlepoint business, my mom was also a church organist for over 50 years.  People were eager to hire her to play for weddings and funerals because she is extremely talented.  I don’t remember her charging a lot of money to play the organ, but I do remember that each event required her to practice.  She had to practice for each Sunday service, every wedding, and all funerals.  That took time, energy, and effort, and she was entitled to be paid for it.

I have run into this issue myself.  I am a writer and a singer.  Writing and singing are two of my innate talents, so they come fairly easily to me, but I still have to develop them.  I studied voice for several years and put in a lot of time practicing and learning how to breathe.  I paid for music and an accompanist, as well as instruction from a teacher.  Now I can sing pretty well, but that skill didn’t come without cost, commitment, and a lot of effort.

My mom also made these.

It takes time and effort to make music or write a piece for someone else.  A lot of the pieces I’ve written for money have required extensive research, fact checking, and equipment.  Computers cost money.  Software costs money.  So do subscriptions to publications that provide the information I need to write something factual and credible.  I went to school for seven years past high school to develop the knowledge and skills to be able to write professionally.  God knows that took money!  Some people might argue that one can learn how to write well without a college degree.  I might agree with that.  However, I went to graduate school and studied specific areas that give me expertise that I wouldn’t have had otherwise.  It’s been awhile since my last freelance assignment, but back when I was writing for money, I was earning anywhere from $40 to $80 an hour in the Washington, D.C. area.

I even had a social work professor who told his students that we should never give away our work for free, even if we only charge a dollar.  When someone pays for something, they value it more.  Although I don’t always think monetary compensation is required for one person to value another person’s contribution, I do agree with the idea that nothing is really free.

A person is more likely to take another person’s work seriously if payment is required.  The payment doesn’t always have to be monetary.  It can also be given in the form of gratitude.  For instance, I would never expect someone to give me money for a gift I present to them.  A gift is, by definition, given without the expectation of money.  I would hope that the recipient would “pay” me by saying thank you, although that doesn’t always happen, either.  Sometimes people are clods… myself included.

Bill had this kilt made when we went to Scotland in 2017.  The kiltmaker measured him and created that kilt by hand.  It’s absolutely beautiful, but it cost plenty and took about three months to create.  Ultimately, it was worth it.  I’m glad we went to the kiltmaker instead of a big company that makes kilts in bulk.

Aside from the hard costs of producing something beautiful, there’s also the issue of time and labor.  No one wants to be a slave.  There has to be a pay off for being productive, and the more productive a person is, the bigger the pay off should be.  Krafty Katt is obviously very good at what she does– good enough that the guy who proposed that she make his blanket asked if she does commissions.  But then he insulted her by accusing her of ripping him off by demanding to be paid for her work.

I would not have made a blanket for the guy on Instagram for any amount of money.  I don’t think I could put my heart into creating something for such a selfish prick.  I think his best bet is to go to Walmart and buy something that was made in a sweatshop.  That’s the quality of person he seems to be… and probably the quality he deserves.  

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condescending twatbags, mental health, modern problems, musings, sex

Transaction denied!

This morning, as I enjoyed coffee and a chocolate cream cheese muffin with Bill, I read today’s Dear Abby. The first letter was this:

DEAR ABBY: Two months ago, I met a lady I will call Amber. We were instantly attracted to each other. The first date went well, and we reached first base (kissing). On the second date, we reached second base (fondling). On the third date, which was also going well, after I finished paying the check for dinner, I asked her if she wanted to continue where we had left off. Amber said no. I was fine with it.

Later that night, when we spoke over the phone, I pointed out, nicely, that she did not even say thank you for dinner, and Amber got offended. I decided to end things after that phone call. I felt she was being disrespectful of my feelings by not listening to what I was saying.

Fast-forward: Her birthday is in two weeks, and I don’t know if I should bury the hatchet by dropping her a Happy Birthday text that day because I really did overall like her. — BRAND-NEW IN NEW JERSEY

Dear Abby, to her credit, very diplomatically set the letter writer straight. She wrote:

DEAR BRAND-NEW: Amber may have become offended when, after she declined to proceed with further intimacy, you told her she “hadn’t even” thanked you for the dinner. When I read that line, for a moment I wondered if you equated the two and had expected that after buying her dinner you were guaranteed sexual favors in return. The two of you have a significant communication deficit. Contact her again only if you are willing to acknowledge that fact and hope she is willing to work on it with you.

As I read this piece, I was reminded of a post I wrote on the original Overeducated Housewife blog. Actually, I wrote a few articles on this subject– about the idea that if a man takes a woman out for dinner, she owes him sex. Or she owes him ANYTHING, except perhaps money if the date is a “Dutch treat”.

In April 2018, I wrote about a woman named Amanda Burnett, who went out with a guy. He paid for dinner, but Amanda never texted him back afterwards. A few weeks later, Amanda got a letter from this guy, along with an invoice for about $40, because she didn’t respond to his request for another date. In true 21st century fashion, Amanda posted the “bill” online. It proved to be a controversial move. Many people felt Amanda’s date was rude to send her a bill. Others felt that Amanda was the asshole for “ghosting” the guy. Dating is not cheap, and the least she could do is thank him for taking her out and treating her. Except he didn’t really treat her, since he expected her to pay him back for the dinner.

Generally speaking, I agree that ghosting someone is a shitty thing to do. It’s disrespectful, rude, and hurtful to just disappear without a trace. However, Amanda may have had good reasons for ghosting the guy. Maybe he gave her the creeps. Maybe he was too intense for her. Perhaps she detected a bent in him toward being controlling and petty. She may have even been concerned about her safety. I would submit that any guy who is dickish enough to send someone a bill weeks after a date is probably not someone most people would want to spend time with long term. On the other hand, I also understand that money doesn’t grow on trees, and whether or not they want to admit it, a lot of guys do expect something in return for investing in dinner.

What prompts me to write about today’s Dear Abby is that, as I read the letter, it seemed pretty obvious to me why “Amber” got offended by the guy’s chastisement for not saying “thank you”. He clearly was hoping for sex after their date. After all, on their previous two dates, Amber had allowed him to get to “first and second base” (is this guy still in the 70s?). It probably seemed to be a given that Amber would let him get to “third base” on their third date. When she demurred, he thought she owed him gratitude for taking her out to eat. While it would have been good manners for Amber to say “thank you”, there are any number of reasons why it slipped her mind. For him to basically insinuate that Amber is rude for A, not fucking him, and B, not saying “thanks for dinner”, I get the sense that this guy has a very transactional view on relationships. I do something for you. You do something for me. If you disagree, we’re done.

But now he admits that he likes Amber, even though she didn’t want to put out, and didn’t say “thank you” for dinner. And he wants to know if he should wish her a “Happy Birthday” via text. Abby wisely told him not to contact her unless he understands why Amber got offended by his chastisement and is willing to acknowledge it. My guess is that he won’t want to do that.

Any man who sends a woman a bill for not agreeing to more dates or, any man who is rude enough to criticize a woman’s manners after he buys her dinner and she doesn’t put out, is likely a major asshole. It’s also likely that Amber and Amanda behaved as they did because these guys offered major clues during their dates that they’re assholes– who strongly believe that paying for dinner means they get access to the woman’s company and, eventually, her body.

A $40 dinner is not a fair exchange for a woman’s health or well-being. Sex is a big step for a lot of women. Bill and I did not have sex with each other until two weeks after our wedding. Now… it’s not that I was against having sex before marriage. I would have had sex with Bill if he had wanted to have sex with me. But it turns out we are compatible when it comes to that. When we first met, Bill was a Mormon, and Mormons don’t officially agree with premarital sex. Granted, he quit practicing Mormonism while we were dating, but I was a virgin and he had only been with his ex wife. And we both wanted to wait for marriage. Then, on my wedding day, I had the same problem Ginny from Sixteen Candles had…

Yep. I got my monthly bill on my wedding day. It also rained. Isn’t it ironic?

Fortunately, I didn’t take a muscle relaxant or tranquilizer before I walked down the aisle. In fact, Aunt Flow even had the decency to wait until after the reception. I don’t regret waiting, and I’m grateful that Bill was willing to wait. He was concerned about my comfort and didn’t see our relationship as transactional. He has never acted like he has the right to free access to my body. Eighteen years later, we’re still in love. We probably would be in love anyway, even if we’d had sex before marriage. But I can honestly say Bill is the best lover I’ve ever had. I never had to experience worrying about pregnancy or STIs. I don’t have any bad memories of sex with some jerk who used me, or had the idea that after a certain number of dates, I needed to either fuck him or end the relationship. Waiting until marriage was the right decision for me. Bill loves me for who I am, and not just how I can make him feel when his dick is inside of me.

In any case, I don’t think either Amanda or Amber have anything to be ashamed about. Granted, it’s rude to ghost someone, as Amanda did, but if she was really a gold digging hussy, she would have kept stringing the guy along. He should have been glad she only cost him $40, if he’s that concerned about money.

And Amber might have been shocked that “BRAND-NEW” had requested sex and put her in the position of saying no thank you. I can tell you that I would have been pretty upset if I was on a third date with someone and they expected sex that early. Some women are fine with having sex that early in a relationship, but a lot of us aren’t. It sounds like the guy was rather forward in his request. When he later “nicely” reminded Amber that she hadn’t thanked him for dinner, he was sending a big clue as to what kind of a man he is. And when she got irritated with him for calling her out, then he decided not to call her again, he sent another clue. For all he knows, Amber has a history of sexual abuse or another issue that makes her less sexually adventurous. I’ll bet by the third date, they hadn’t ever talked about that. Which, to me, is the more amazing thing, especially for those of us who grew up in the era of HIV/AIDS. I would certainly want to know my partner’s basic history before I opened myself up to him sexually.

In my April 2018 post about this subject, I wrote:

A lot of guys seem to think that if they pay for dinner, they are entitled to sex or company or whatever else.  The fact is, a $40 dinner is not a fair trade for someone’s health or well-being.  No one owes another person access to their body.  If one party wants more than good times on the town and the other person doesn’t, then it’s probably best to just find another partner.  Paying for a date entitles you to absolutely nothing more than a person’s company, for as long as he or she wants to offer it.  Moreover, I’d love to see that guy actually collect his bill.  I don’t think it’s gonna happen.

I have never “ghosted” anyone, but it has happened to me before.  I was in college when I had a “date” with a guy who didn’t spend a dime on me and got disgusted when I wouldn’t put out, hours after I met him.  After that, he wouldn’t even speak to me.  In retrospect, it was really no big loss.  But no… I’ve never ghosted anyone and generally speaking, wouldn’t… unless I had a very good reason.  

I wouldn’t mind singing this song about ghosting, though…

In that same post, I continued with a story about a guy I used to know who has probably been ghosted a few times and scared the fuck out of me…

Back in the fall of 1999, right after I began graduate school, I ran into a guy I used to know from ACOA (adult children of alcoholics) meetings.  He and his ex girlfriend had a baby and he wanted to know if I wanted to see the little girl.  Although I had plans for later in the evening, I agreed.  Stupidly, I rode in his truck with him.  After we visited his adorable little girl, we got back in his truck and he proceeded to drive to the Colonial Parkway, which is, if you’re familiar with the Tidewater area of Virginia, a well-known pretty drive that has also been the site of several notorious unsolved murders.  

I told the guy that I had plans to meet a friend– and I did.  I was meeting a male friend from college for dinner.  The truck driving creep wanted me to “blow off” my friend because, apparently, he found me alluring that evening and wanted to “hold me”.  I had to insist that he take me back to my car because my friend would be waiting, and I told him he would call the police.  My friend probably wouldn’t have called the police, but the dude driving the truck didn’t know that.  

The whole way back to my car, my body was numb with fear as he lectured me about how wrong it is that I “let other people dictate what I do” (and apparently not realizing that he was trying to dictate to me how I should spend my evening).  We got back to my car.  I heaved a sigh of relief and got out of his truck, about to crap my pants because all of my fight or flight impulses were firing off at full steam.  Yes, had that been a date, I absolutely would have ghosted him.  In fact, some months after that incident, I ran into that guy again.  He acted like nothing had happened while I fought to control the nauseating sense of fear I had, seeing him again.  I feel sorry for his ex girlfriend, who presumably had to share their daughter with him.  She’s a grown woman now.  I wonder how she feels about her creepy dad.

Amanda might have had a good reason for “ghosting” the guy who billed her. Maybe he gave her the creeps. However, I think it’s more likely that he wasn’t scary. If he was, she wouldn’t have posted his bill on the Internet. She probably just found him boring and stingy. Ghosting him was rude, but since he sent her a bill, my guess is that she probably found him offensive on the actual date. Amber’s date sounds like he might have been too pushy. Any guy who refers to steps in intimacy in baseball terms, especially in 2021, is probably a jackass. I don’t think I would have wanted to fuck him. Of course, he probably wouldn’t have wanted to fuck me, either. 😉

So… I do understand why some men think women are rude for ghosting them, not thanking them, or not having sex with them. But I also think that women should always remember that there’s “no obligation to buy”. A $40 dinner is not a fair trade for one’s health or well-being. And we have to protect ourselves from diseases, pregnancy, and the mental anguish from being intimate with assholes, literally and figuratively. Decent men, who were brought up properly, understand this. Frankly, I think that if all you want is sex, you should simply hire a professional and pay her for the experience. That way, you don’t have to shell out for dinner and there won’t be any crying jags. Unless, of course, you pay extra.

Today’s featured photo is a screenshot of Andrew McCarthy and Anna Maria Horsford, who played a black prostitute named Naomi in the film St. Elmo’s Fire. When Andrew’s character, Kevin, asks Naomi why she never tries to sell her wares to him, she says, “I thought you were gay.” Then she goes on to explain why a prostitute is a better deal for a man who just wants sex.

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