Well Ducky what can I say?
How about.........A very rare start to a thread capable of dragging me temporarily away from posting retirement. I can, unfortunately relate to everything you said.
For too long my phone bills were utterly ridiculous. Shamefully I must admit even worse than yours at times
. Quarterly bills well in advance of £1000 became quite regular. It caused much stress on my part and left me financially struggling very frequently. The thrill of calling in and trying to strip babes off became an expensive drug. Back in time, long before pervcam and other gimmicks along with an anti freeloader mentality took hold the prospect of getting what I wanted out of calling a babe was very real.
But while the thrill was intense the waiting to be connected was painful.
I knew that with every passing minute the expense was building but in my case there was another problem. I liked as long a filthy chat as possible. I still do on the rare occasions I now call. The time out rule meant that after a short time I would hang up and dial again in a gamble that I could somehow get through quickly for a long chat.
Each caller I had to listen to caused much consternation and slamming of fists on floor as well as throwing of receiver around the lounge. I resented folk beating me in the call queue no matter how well I thought i had timed my call.
People who called in to engage in non sex chat really used to wind me up. The rage inside me boiled over on numerous occasions as if to say 'FFS here I am trying to get through and have a full on filthy chat and some muppet is engaging in f#cking daytime chat. Will you just f@ck off'
.
The utterence of 'you're almost there, another call is coming through' or something along those lines was pure torture especially when I knew my phone bill for the quarter was already stupidly high. A true dagger to the heart
.
At times I was in tears of frustration. So badly wanting to get through yet at the same time so frustrated at the costs of the wait rising and rising.
I wanted to get through so badly at times it was insane.
Even more ridiculously I wanted to generate thrilling moments not just for me but for others too including on here. How daft is that?
.
My calls generated some amazing results at times and part of me still feels a sense of ridiculous pride in them. Trophy moments but at considerable cost and stressful days, nights and weeks calculating phone bills against income and other outgoings
. Grown man. Should have known better
.
So what ultimately called time on such madness?
The evolution of nightshows is the answer. The way the channels have changed and the attitudes of rather too many babes has also changed is much to my sense of gain. Real financial gain of course. But more importantly a sense of perspective gain too. Of course personal life factors help too in this regard.
Those close to me suffering far greater, life defining and life threatening reality through no fault of their own.
Me suffering because of my own pathetic and trivial desire for a thrill of a sort anything but cheap. I most certainly could blame nobody but myself.
The channels through their relentless desire to rip folk off and the babes through a seemingly remorseless greed have helped solve my problem for me to the point where the resentment towards both has reached a point of no return in terms of calls to all but the very fewest on the most rarest occasion.
But also to a much greater return in terms of my financial outlook which is healthier.
A product that nearly destroyed me with one hand has inadvertenly healed me with the other. And my life has changed because of it quite fundamentally with maybe 3 or 4 people on here in a position to sense why.
Behind all the smileys submitted in foolishly triumphant response to call after call such as
and
is a painful reality laid bare.
Wasted money, wasted emotion, wasted years.
Not a day goes by without me asking the question why.
So many whys but an utter incapability to provide any rational sort of answer.
As much as I may often wave a white flag of surrender in one hand and a red card of dismissal in the other to the channels and SOME babes that represent them there is one thing I cannot wave away. The undiluted shame that never dies.