But now, none of that mattered, as though losing face before a single human resources department was tantamount to being condemned by humanity as a whole.
So I did what any reasonable young professional would do: I purchased a high-definition Web camera, excavated a cache of lingerie from the basement and submitted photocopies of my driver’s license to become an adult webcam model.
But before I could even finish doubting myself, a swarm of users flooded my chat room, tipping liberally with “tokens,” the website’s local currency, and barraging me with questions.
(, someone later explained.) Needless to say, the only buns purchased that night were my own, freshly delivered to the computer screens of over 300 strangers.“Why did you start camming? “Well, I came here because I hate my real job and wanted to see if this could be a viable financial alternative,” I said, tweaking my nipples a bit in hopes of resuscitating some of the erections I undoubtedly just lost.
My parents were proud of me, and I was proud that they were proud of me.
Convinced that I was doing the “right thing,” I spent a year botching Excel spreadsheets and crying in office bathroom stalls.
At my annual employee review, my boss placed me on “Performance Probation,” citing at least five or six reasons why I could not be trusted with so much as a stapler.
She added that in spite of my attempts to I now think, staring at the unlikely reflection of a smoky-eyed 25-year-old woman in my lipstick-strewn bathroom.Upon first glance, the only semblance Marina bears to her office-dwelling predecessor is her penchant for Post-its, which now testify to a to-do list decidedly more perverse: And yet, as she poses in lacy white stockings – a gift from a virtual admirer – atop her squeaky Ikea armchair, the only thing that surprises her is how ordinary it all feels.* * *The afternoon that I was placed on Performance Probation, I left work early. I remembered a conversation I had several months earlier with an acquaintance, whose ex-girlfriend, he claimed, made a decent living as a camgirl. ” I asked him, familiar with the phenomenon only through sidebar Internet advertisements claiming that Jessie19, conveniently located in my neighborhood, wanted to fuck, like, “Well,” he said, “usually they just strip, tease and get themselves off in front of guys online in exchange for money and gifts.Riding the N train back to Queens, I quietly wept upon the sympathetic cashmere shoulder of Ann Taylor and brainstormed responses to my imminent dismissal. For the first time, my intellect and perfectionist work ethic had failed me. It’s super easy – most guys aren’t looking for some airbrushed Barbie. I paused, looking down at my austere gray cardigan.” Much to my surprise, I was infinitely more embarrassed to call my underwear “panties” than I was to remove them.I began leaving the office sharply at 5 p.m., applying my makeup on the subway ride home and often skipping dinner in order to log online faster.For weeks, I fielded calls from anxious relatives, inventing excuse after excuse as to why I had still not produced a groundbreaking retranslation of “War and Peace.” “So, you’re just … ” my father finally asked, his voice leaden and despondent, as though his Rottweiler had just died. If there was going to be a funeral, I thought, doing something. Don’t worry, the pay is great.” For some reason, I actually thought this news would cheer up my father.“Camming is the gateway!