Giving Out Candy

When I was a little girl, do-gooders would give me pieces of candy. It was supposed to be a nice thing to give the poor kids. I took it, and enjoyed it. But as I got older I noticed the look in my momma's eyes -- the look in all the mommas' eyes when their kids were given candy. It wasn't just the shame that comes from knowing others have decided your kids are poor and needy, but the fact that they'd rather that the well-meaning person would hand out bags of rice or otherwise give something that would help more than the five minutes of sweet sugar.

I continued to accept the candy.

As I got older, I also started to notice the ways giving candy changed.

My short Daisy Dukes weren't a fashion statement -- or a sign of promiscuity either. They were shorts that were too short but there was no money for better fitting shorts. But I saw the looks. And while I didn't, at first, understand it; I knew there was a wistfulness, a question, a begging in their eyes...

And that's when I began to feel the power shift. Shift to me.

Now I had something they wanted and they quickly became the needy ones I could hand out sweet stuff to.

Like the do-gooders who gave me candy, I gave out small pieces here and there, but never enough to really address the full hunger.

Trailer park girls are smarter than you think. We know we can't say, "Give me a computer and I'll give you a blow job." The average guy will automatically believe there's never been a blow job worth that. The trick is getting him to believe it is. So you tease and deny, increasing the desire and then the value of the blow job. The blow job becomes nearly unobtainable, and suddenly, just seeing your pantyhose-covered ass is worth a pc.

Even when he knows what you'll do with that pc.

And when you've got the pc, you dump him. Because now you need the cable guy to get you hooked-up for free. The computer guy, who's been wanking to his mental images of your ass all week, sees the cable guy leaving, and assumes he's gotten a blow job -- his blow job. He begs that he deserves one. But you laugh at him, tell him to email you pictures of his wee willie to impress you first, and shut the door.

Now you've got two men vying for you and the value of the bj increases wildly.

And you've got photos of pathetic penis to leverage into who knows what else.

Like photos.