Congratulations Discount Shoe Salesman!

You’re a discount shoe salesman and today you’re going to meet your wife.

“How will I meet my wife?” you’ll ask yourself, having received only the first sentence of our cryptic prediction before rushing off to sell discount shoes to dissatisfied housewives. You’ll assume that you’ll meet her while selling shoes, which is what you spend most of your time doing anyway, so you’ll look at every woman who enters your store with an appraising eye, examining her ass, her eyes, her lips, her teeth, to see if she’d be a good long term mate. You’ll smile at each acceptable lady wide as you can to show that you’re kind and polite. You’ll try to put out a positive vibe so that they’ll think “nothing bad could come from taking this man home and letting him into my bed.

It’ll pay off towards the end of your shift, at around 3:45 PM. A dissatisfied housewife named Margaret, age 42, will see in your smile a glimmer of what she once saw in her husband of four years, Earl. She’ll ask you when you get off and then wait patiently outside your store on a bench for fifteen minutes, reading a J.D. Robb novel and humming to herself, already glowing from the act to come.

The two of you will leave the store and go to a nearby hotel, where you’ll rent a room using your credit card. Margaret will give you half of the room rental fee in cash, and then she’ll have sex with you in the room to make up the difference. It’ll be alright, but Margaret will be really into ass-play and she won’t be up for discussing it. This is a bit of a deal breaker for you.

She’ll also insist on not using a condom, which will limit your enjoyment. You’ll know she’s a cheater because she won’t bother to take her ring off and you’ll know she does this fairly often by her practiced approach to not being caught, which will leave you with the sneaking suspicion that you’re going to catch something from her. You’ll leave after briefly showering while she lays in bed, satisfied with herself, believing that she’s performed the magnanimous service of introducing you to the magic of your own butthole.

On your way out of the hotel you’ll stop by the concierge. A young woman, no older than twenty three by your guess, size eight most likely, will be alone there, looking bored. You’ll cough before you ask her if there’s a Planned Parenthood nearby where you can get tested. She’ll laugh.

“That bad, huh?”

You’ll smile at her, a little embarrassed, and she’ll find your blush appealing. After a few moments of consideration she’ll tell you the address of a nearby free health clinic where you’ll be able to get a quick exam and some blood work done. Then she’ll hand you her phone number and wink.

“Give me a call when you get the results, playboy.”

You’ll turn red, which will make her smile, and walk out in a hurry, which will give her a reason to pick up the phone and agree to go out with you for drinks in two weeks when your results come back clean. And the rest, as they say, is history.

Congratulations Discount Shoe Salesman!