Another, or Maybe The Third Chapter, On Tips For Guys Using Chat lines and Two Fantasies I Hope Come True Someday

by Rajkhet Dirzhud-Rashid

Ah, even someone who belongs to a sex club (sex positive community center, actually) has a dry spell and as that happened to me recently, I found myself breaking down one night, picking up the phone and dialing a chat line number. Yes, I knew it was gonna be a huge mistake, having had some experience with this sort of thing before, but hey, there was a ‘fire down below’, so what’s a girl to do, right? So, I plunged right in, made up a fake name - hey, never, NEVER give your real name unless you want someone you wouldn’t talk to on the street stalking you (this nearly did happen to me after a rather bad phone chat experience some years ago).
Cheery greeting, my specs (read what I wanted) out there for interested parties to choose from, I waited, watching some boring television. Didn’t take me long to realize why I hadn’t resorted to this little dating crutch in a while, as I listened to one after another weird, sleazy and just plain creepy guys’ greetings, and then a few nibbles from persons of interest.

I want men in uniform. I don’t want Single Black Male or “hi, I’m so-and-so, I’m 43 and lonely”, or any of the other losers who were on the line at the time. I didn’t want the other folks who nibbled either, including a guy who sounded far different than he actually was. My type is Caucasian men, in uniform - soldier, police officer or fireman. There was only one guy who fit my specs. He was Iranian, former soldier, horny, from Bellevue. He was almost but not quite what I wanted, though I too, was horny and he practically begged to come over to meet me. Sorry guy, my love is overseas, can’t bridge that gap between my ‘girlfriend, supporting my soldier guy, and you might look like who he’s getting shot at by’. I actually said that to him. I heard his almost gasp of disbelief, felt my own politically correct angel thump me on the back of the head, but ended up going to bed unsatisfied nonetheless. True love trumps momentary ‘crotch fire’ any old time and has an awkward way of popping up when you least expect it in ways you can never predict.

Still, I got two things out of this little experiment. One, a list of my pet peeves to offer to guys trolling for nookie on chat lines, and two, a reality check on my own, newfound prejudices. Ouch. So guys, when a woman says what she wants on a chat line, don’t think if you’re not ‘guy in uniform’, she’ll change for ‘Italian Stallion’, or ‘two cousins looking for fun’. We know what we want and trying to make your voice sound extra sexy or even anywhere remotely like what we’re gonna get is some guy jacking off on the other end of the phone, then hanging up won’t work magic for you. Also describing yourself like a slab of beef, a la ‘this is Black male’ doesn’t work either, unless she’s low class herself and is that what you’re really looking for? If we’re calling a chat line, have a greeting out there specifying what we’re in the mood for, trying to change our minds is like being in the mood for steak and someone’s offering you a hotdog. No nookie from this corner for you Sam.

Also, don’t buy into those bimbo ads you’ve seen on late night TV. Most folks who call chat lines, women anyway, do want to chat and often meet someone to date, not jack off with (though I have done that and might do it again, but probably won’t).

So, I hung up, went to bed, fantasized about two of my ‘I have yet to do this, but sure want to’ fantasies, which include doing a fireman right after he’s put out a fire - sweat, taste of adrenaline in his kiss, the whole nine yards and doing a policeman in some out of the way spot on the hood of his patrol car. So much better than what the chat line was offering, though a few years ago, not only did I call a chat line, but let the guy I hooked up with come to my place and did him because he looked like Mark Harmon. This, I shamelessly tell you!