Rog Has Second Thoughts

It was perfect. Almost. As he scrolled through the forum, it occurred to him that he was in a public place. And what on earth? The site was not blocked? How strange to be seeing this at a library. Luckily no one was paying attention to his browsing. God forbid that one of his mother's friends might see this. How surprised she would be to hear that her perfect son was looking at porn on the Internet. But it was not really porn, he justified, just the means to profit from keeping people company. No harm in that. Just the same, he wrote down the URL and tucked it into his wallet, quickly switched to his Gmail account.

His mind swam with potential scenarios as he scrolled through spam, his mother's daily email, and the various people he really had no desire to talk with anymore.

He found himself to be extremely conflicted about the idea of becoming an escort. It was not the sort of thing one could tell people, was it? What would one say when one asked in the beginning intonation of acquaintancehood to "What do you do?"

"Why, I am a male escort. And you?" And that was really sad. Why should someone be ashamed of how they make money?
Wait.

Would he feel ashamed, after all he was pretty sure an escort had to work hard to be good in the profession? No, he would not feel ashamed, but those not so opened minded in his life might. Having a husband who is a escort probably would not thrill Joan. But still...

Think, he told himself. Think. What else could an eighteen year-old, just out of school do to bring in a good salary. Lots of things, he was sure, most of which he was not so inclined to do. Hard labor seemed awfully back breaking. The problem was, he was the type of person who had grown up assuming college was in his future. He had thought about majoring in English, becoming an English teacher and writing poetry on the side. But that dream was pretty much gone when he slept with Joan.

If only he could join the military...