Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 137135 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137135 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
It’s Saturday, so I could get dressed and go to the club, to see if there’s anything entertaining to watch or participate in. But I just don’t have it in me. Being around all those people, most of them matched up into couples, or throuples, or whatever comes after that—fouples? The thought of actively trying to find someone, someone new, and having to get to know them—small talk and all that shit—makes me feel like I’m going to pass out… or maybe just take a nap. Either way, it sounds daunting as fuck.
So as pathetic as it makes me feel, I grab the bottle of my sweet red wine and my wine glass that is stamped with pretty script that spells out the words Crazy Plant Lady surrounded in monstera leaves, and I take them to the couch. Since I am the ultimate wine connoisseur who only drinks the bougiest of wines, I twist off the cap and pour the dark red liquid all the way to the very top, to the point I have to lean down to my TV tray and sip from the glass instead of picking it up.
“Mmm,” I moan when the sweetness overwhelms my tastebuds and makes my mouth water as I put the metal cap back on the glass bottle and set it on the table next to the couch. “Now, where to begin.” I open my laptop and slip my glasses on, using my fingerprint to unlock the screen. I don’t know why I’ve been procrastinating doing this all day, especially with how excited and motivated I was about it when the idea for the book hit me. It feels almost like I’m a debut author again, writing the very first page of my very first story. I felt like such a poser, like I was just playing pretend. There’s no way I could write a whole book and then publish it, right?
Almost thirty books later… I need to pull on my fucking big girl panties.
I straighten the fuck up and put my fingers to the keyboard. “Okay, let me think. How about…?”
I type in the words sugar daddy dating site, and immediately a whole slew of websites highlighted with the word Ad next to them pop up, taking up almost the entire first page of the search results. I don’t know why, but for some reason, I’ve always scrolled past all the ads without looking at them to get to the websites that haven’t been sponsored. The first one that pops up is a very infamous one, known for hooking up married people who want to cheat on their spouses.
Not to be confused with married people in ethical non-monogamous relationships, as in open marriages for example, but people actively and knowingly hooking up with married people who have spouses who aren’t aware. Extramarital affairs. There are very, very few reasons in my mind that could make this type of relationship morally acceptable.
Yes, there are some reasons that exist, like my old friend Winston, who was stuck in his marriage because of a fucked-up prenuptial agreement. He and his wife were separated for years, living completely apart in every way, but if he divorced her, he would lose everything he ever worked for, and she was bitchy enough to take it all. Thankfully, all that worked out in the end, albeit a bit dramatically.
I also read about someone getting trapped in a marriage with a person who completely played them, making them think they were everything they ever wanted, their perfect match. And it wasn’t until they had kids their true colors came out. While I don’t necessarily agree with staying married just for one’s children, if they themselves had a bad experience being a child of divorced parents, then I can totally see their trauma making them want to give their own kids a different upbringing than they had.
My reasoning for this example of an affair being forgivable may be morally corrupt, but in my head, if you portrayed yourself one way and got the ring on your finger, then later on down the road, your reveal you were lying about who you were, then your spouse didn’t marry you. They didn’t say vows to you. They said them to the person you made them believe you were. So those vows are as null and void, as fake as the persona you were putting on.
But deciphering such intricate details of a man’s marriage would take so much time and building of trust. I definitely don’t have the mental capacity for dealing with a complication like that, when I could just stay away from a site that screams Click Here for Extreme Anxiety and Other-Woman Drama. Plus, I wouldn’t get much information on sugar daddies there, I don’t think, so I scroll to the next one.