Money is not the root of all evil. People are the root of all money. People use money and people use people. It’s the game of life. Life cannot be played without money.
As a child, we are taught that the most important values in life do not have anything to do with money. We are taught that money is less important than love and family. We are taught that with God’s love, we will survive. As children, we believe this. We go to church, say a few prayers and watch our parents put a dollar in the basket. We believe that love and happiness is behind the altar.
We are told to spend our money wisely, yet watch our parents spend it foolishly. We are taught that money cannot buy love, but men try it every day. Men refuse to buy my love, but will always offer to buy my body. They only want it for an hour or two, yet still expect a full refund if not satisfied. They won’t lavish me with expensive gifts or send a dozen red roses, but will always offer me an afternoon in their motel room. This is insulting enough, but they even make it worse by refusing to offer cold cash as though their intentions were somehow honorable. They expect a compliment in exchange for each insult.
The first man to make me such a generous offer was a salesman from my office. He invited me to lunch as a repayment for my boss buying his product. I accepted his lunch invitation because I thought it was a business lunch. I dressed in my favorite business dress only to be taken to the park for a picnic. I wore a white dress and did not want to sit on the blanket he pulled from his car’s trunk to lay before me on the grass. He unwrapped a deli sandwich he had just purchased from a nearby grocery store and proceeded to tell me how “well off” he was.
I listened while he took a bite out of his sandwich. As I listened, I started to realize that anything wrapped in cellophane taken from a brown paper grocery sack was not lunch at The Brown Palace. Then, as he graciously placed the blanket before me, he explained that he bought us deli sandwiches so that we would have time to be alone. He didn’t want to go to a restaurant where we might be distracted by the crowd. What he didn’t want to admit was that he didn’t want to go to a restaurant and possibly be seen by his wife. No sooner were the words out of his mouth, that his true intentions were revealed.
With sandwich in hand, while the mustard dripped on his clean white shirt, he tells me that he lives in one of the nearby mansions close to Cheeseman Park. He pauses to watch the expression on my face. I think he was expecting me to gasp in his glory. I did not speak. I waited. I silently watched the mustard turned to a stain. After realizing that I was not impressed with his announcement, he explained that he wanted to be with me so much that he was willing to rent me a condominium near his house so that he could visit whenever he wanted. He further explained that he would pay my rent and keep a key for himself. He only wanted to be near me, he explained, and visit whenever he could get out of the house.
“Oh,” I commented, “you mean you aren’t getting divorced?”
“Oh, no,” he replied, “it’s my wife’s money.”
I took another bite out of my sandwich to avoid a reply. I did not know what to say. I was shocked and surprised by the entire event. I was married and feared my jealous husband could hear this man’s words a thousand miles away and would somehow blame me for the approach. I sat silent, munching on my sandwich, careful to chew every morsel. I was stalling for time. Finally, he asked, “Well, what do you think?”
“Well,” I replied, “I don’t know what to think. This is the first time a married man has offered to rent me a condo so he could cheat on his wife. Didn’t you notice my wedding ring?”
“Well, yes,” he responded, “that’s why I asked you.”
Confused, I asked him to explain. It seems he thought it would work out better if he chose a married woman who wouldn’t expect love in return and would be happy with just an afternoon of sexual bliss. It seems he expected me to meet him for lunch-time “nooners.” I was so naïve at the time, I almost threw-up my lunch as I began to realize what he was really suggesting. I could not believe he actually thought I would cheat on my husband. I was insulted by the mere suggestion that I would even consider such a notion. I also was angry that he used a business lunch as an excuse to get me alone in order to pitch his proposition. I refrained from speaking my real thoughts because I didn’t want to cause problems at the office.
In retrospect, I wish I had been brave enough to tell him that not only was I not interested in his offer, but that my boss would no longer be interested in his products. Instead, I told him that I loved my husband and just wasn’t available. In truth, I hated him. I hated him for ruining my first “business lunch.” I hated him for ruining my day. I hated him for taking me to the park instead of a trendy downtown restaurant. I hated him for stealing my innocent thoughts.
Many years have passed since this man’s proposition, but, even with age, I am still insulted by similar suggestions. With age and experience, I have acquired a stronger stomach and even stronger words. Though, I am still caught off guard.
When I was young, I thought a dinner date was an invitation to dinner. It has taken me many years to learn that a dinner date is really a disguised invitation for sex. Now, whenever a man invites me to dinner, I really want to ask, “How much will it cost me?”
Merlene is a student, writer, indie author, New Age journalist and investigative researcher. She writes articles for specialized magazines with focus on psychology, crime, criminology, technology, sociology, relationships, religion, society, politics, ethics and more. Visit http://merlenesmemos.wordpress.com
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