I Shaved My Legs For This?!

Originally posted November 12, 2007

"Hey, Charlotte, I have a doozy for ya!" Mindy declares with unhidden glee.

"Oh no..."

"Yea, but you have to sound gruff, though. You kinda have a sweet voice. Can you do gruff?"

I clear my throat and furrow my brow. "Does this sound gruff?" Furrowing your brow helps with the gruffness, for serious!

"Yea! That's it, that's good, ok, now, he's got a long list, are you ready?" She's chuckling.

"Oh lord..."

"Yea, he wants 30, white, submissive and obedient. He wants you to be married, but unhappily married. He wants to be degrading to you, so you have to take it. He's into legs, but like really muscular legs. Big calves, very well defined, indented with like dimples, you know?"

"Holy shit, for real?"

"Yea, and so, you have really big, well defined calves, and bulky thighs. And he wants you to have big ankles. Not like cankles, because your legs are muscular, but like, just big boney ankles..."

"What the fuck, Mindy?"

"I know! It's the weather." Mindy has a very thick Jersey accent, so it was more like, "It's da weatha!" Which cracks my ass up, and she laughs along. "I'm sorry, honey..."

"It's alright, I got this! Mary Anne's got awesome legs!"

"Okay...connecting Mary Anne with Charlie for 30 minutes." I hear her laughing as she signs off. Sometimes I wonder if she does this shit to me on purpose.

"Hi! This is Mary Anne, who's this?" I forget to sound gruff. Fuck!

"Hi Mary Anne, this is Charlie. We're going to do some role playing, so I have to make sure you're up for it, OK?" He sounds like a regular guy. I see him as mid 40s, he's wearing a blue baseball cap, somehow he sounds like a blue collar kind of guy. He's brisk, and business like.

"I'm up for anything." A little gruff, not enough brow furrow.

"Ok, so, you're a 30 year old business manager, you run this office. And you have a gruff voice, where you sound bitchy, but you're not really bitchy, it's just how your voice sounds. You're not happy in your marriage, and that may be where the bitchiness comes from. Can you do that?"

"Yes," I say in the gruff voice.

"Ok, good. So, I'm going to call you up at work, and do like a survey, and you're just going to answer with yes or no. You're not to elaborate unless I ask you to, do you understand?"

"Yes."

"And you have to sound gruff, remember?"

Clear my throat! Furrow that brow!

"Yes, yes, I know." I try to sound as manly as possible.

"OK, so, while I ask you questions, you might hear like some breathing and noises in the background, but just ignore that, all right?"

"Yes."

"Ok, so, I call up..."

"Hello, this is Mary Anne." I do my best I hate my job voice.

"Hi Mary Anne, this is Charlie. I wonder if I could have a few moments of your time to conduct an interview."

"Yes, I suppose so."

"Well, I own a magazine, and we're looking for leg models. We take pictures of your legs and you'd sell pantyhose and stockings. Maybe sometimes your bare legs, too. Does that sound like something you'd be interested in?"

"Yes."

"Ok. Do you work out?"

"Yes, I do."

"Do you do a lot of leg exercises?"

"Yes."

"What do you do?"

"Squats, lunges, leg lifts, biking."

"So, are your legs slightly muscular, muscular, or very muscular?"

"Very muscular."

"Oh yea...muscle legs...yes, so good." He's whispering frantically, not speaking to me anymore, and I can barely hear him, just heavy breathing and the occasional random phrase. The phrase "slut legs" comes up more than once. After a bit, he composes himself.

"Would you say your legs are manly?"

"Yes."

"Do you wear pants to hide them? Or mostly skirts?"

"I wear skirts all the time."

"You do? You like to show them off?"

"Yes. I work out all the time, so I want to show off."

"Oh yes..." More frantic whispers. "Yes, big legs....ugly man slut..." Then, to me: "What kind of shoes do you wear?"

"Heels all the time. The higher the better, to show off my calves."

"What do your calves look like? Are they heart shaped? Or squared?"

"They're big and squared..."

"Dimples?"

"Yes, dimples."

He's off and whispering again. Then: "Are you married?"

"Yes."

"Happily?"

"No..."

"Why not?"

I'm quiet for a second, then I sigh. "The bastard is cheating on me."

"He is? It's because you're an ugly man slut isn't it? All the time in the gym making your legs all big turned you into an ugly man slut didn't it?"

"Yes." Wow.

"Describe your ankles to me."

I stretch out my foot and look at my ankles. "Well, they're very big and boney. As my calf muscles narrow my ankles protrude. On the inside of my leg, there's a smaller rounded point, but the outside, it's bigger, and pointier and sticks out more..."

"Oh yea...." Very frantic whispers. "Big slut ankles and legs...yea....you got the boney sticky outies!"

I just about lose my mind laughing, and have to press my hand over my mouth. He just whispers and pants faster and faster. I'm not even sure I heard him correctly until he says it again.

"Ugly man slut...yea! With the boney sticky outies! Big calves...fucking whore legs and ankles....UUUNNNGGGHH!"

I just sit and wait and try my damnedest not to laugh. He finally quiets down and says, "Ok, thank you Mary Anne, have a good day." And hangs up.

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