At my day job I was recently asked what I want to be doing a year from now.

My mind quickly flashed to what I really wish I could do for a living. 

Interview people.  If I had my way I’d do the Masocast and one other podcast ( a non-kinky podcast, I already know exactly what it would be).  I love talking to and interviewing people.  If I could, thats how how I’d pay the bills.

If I couldn’t do that I’d build websites for people.  In fact that’s what I do for my 2nd job right now.  Every day I get home  I start the 2nd job building websites.  I can’t do it full time however, not right now anyway. 

You know what I’d never want to do for a living?  What I’m doing for a living right now.  My day job is just there because it pays more than unemployment and has health insurance  Very very shitty health insurance but health insurance none the less.  

That’s what I thought of when my boss asked me what I’d like to be doing a year from now.  But I couldn’t say choice number one, and I couldn’t say choice number two.  What did I say?

“I’d love to have one job”.

That’s what it’s come down to.   I’d just love to have one job and only need one job.  Even if it was the job I didn’t like I wish I could just do the job I didn’t like, come home and then not do any work..just be with the person I love more than anything in the world and not work.  

I told him this because it was a shot at the fact that nobody at my day job has had a raise in over 5 years.  There’s nothing he can do about it though, it’s not up to him, nor is it up to his boss or his bosses boss.  It’s up to some assahat at our parent company who probably doesn’t even know what our company does.

It’s easy to forget when you live in NYC that most people in the world don’t do a job they love.  They do a job they tolerate or hate and that’s if they’re lucky enough to have a job.

My father will work a job he doesn’t like until the day he dies.   Speaking from an evolutionary point of view as long as I can somehow retire before death I’ll be doing better.

Don’t get me wrong I still daydream of doing the Masocast for a living.  Can you imagine?  Having fun conversations with kinky smart people and getting paid for it?   Oh the things I’d do, the people I’d interview. The places we’d go!

There’s an alternate universe where that’s possible.  It’s just not this one.

You know I had a point when I started writing this.  It’s escaping me now.  Huh. 

Anyway my hopes is that it’ll hit me someday, how to do the podcast for a living, I hope it hits me while it’s still possible and not on my deathbed.  Can you imagine?  The way to do it hits me and my last thought is “Fuck, I could have done it after all”.  Yeah If it doesn’t hit me while it’s possible I hope it never hits me.

Anyway I gotta get back to work.

The First Date

This week marks the anniversary of the first “vanilla date” Sade and I went on.

I had been serving her both sexually and non for a few weeks at that point.  Doing chores and enthusiastically going down on her several times a day when she told me we were going to go on a vanilla date. 

There would be no D/s, no kink, just a girl and a boy going out on a first date.  

She said she wanted to know me as a person and not just as a sex toy.  She wanted to know if there was something more between us than just kink and sex.

I was thrilled by the idea.  Not specifically the part about wanting to see the vanilla me but just the fact that she was thinking of something more.  By that time I had resigned myself to the idea that I wasn’t going to find anyone for anything more than causal play.

Dinner and a movie, that’s what she wanted.

I had to remind myself not to say “Yes Ma’am” and internally debated what would cross the line from being gentlemanly to obviously in the servant mode.  I wanted to show her I could do it, that I could do more than just her bidding, that I could relate to her, engage with her and connect with her conversationally.  Basically I had to somehow find a way to charm her. pressure.

When I look back now I wonder what the hell I was thinking.  I had picked a nice french bistro. A perfect choice if I do say so myself but for the movie we ended up going to Inglorious Bastards.  Inglorious bastards?  What a terrible pick.  It not romantic, not a classic comedy and it’s a World War II movie.

Rule one of first-date movies..ok rule one of anything for a first date, is to avoid things that may make your date think of Hitler.

In between dinner and the movie I took her geocaching.  Yeah geocaching.  The only thing nerdier I could have done would be to take her to a javascript lecture.

But she liked the geocaching.  She liked the movie too or at least she liked going to the movie with me.

Afterwards we walked along the river.  I kept wondering if I was doing well or not, if I had passed the test. If she was going to  elevate me to more than a casual thing.  I remember near the end asking if I was doing well.  She replied in a way that kept me guessing, she always loves to keep me guessing.

I still get butterflies when I think of that first date.

I still get butterflies when I come home from work and she’s there smiling at me when I open the door.