The Mistress Mindset

In the year of our Lord, 1983, one muggy August morning in Los Angeles, I began my first day in college with a class followed by meeting my new boss in the Bursars office. Work study was a godsend. I could go to school and still have some money for gas and fun. My supervisor was Connie F. and she was the big boss in the loan department. She was impeccably dressed and her makeup was probably better suited for evenings. Connie was perfect for her job because she had several OCD qualities. Her directions were to be followed to the letter. If I was going to file something, it had to first be alphabetized with her flappy alphabetizing thingy and then it could go in the file. Since I was a good worker bee, she decided to share her philosophy of life and give me advice. Her sage words were to be a mistress and let some man take care of me.

Into the mind of a miistress

To be clear, Connie was a married woman with a bunch of kids. She was Catholic in the old-fashioned sense; she went to mass unless it conflicted with a good party. Her words fell on my virginal ears like an icepick. You would think this was a one-off topic but no, Connie wanted me to be happy and the best way to get what I want out of life was to throw away the rule book and be a mistress. She told me a mistress would have all her bills paid, she could have her own life, go to school, have friends. The only cost was maybe once or twice a week she had to make a martini for her Sugar Daddy and then have sex with him. What was a little sex with an older man if you had all your bills paid and lived a life of leisure?

Obviously, her conversations stuck with me. As a 17 year old innocent, I had little to offer in this conversation. Now, as a 47 year old woman with a 20 year old daughter, I have much to say. There are rules to being a woman and one of them is you don’t sleep with another woman’s man. For those of you who know me, I know that you are snickering since Paul was dating someone when we met. However, I am quick to point out that he was single when we declared our feelings. It isn’t my fault that I was irresistible.

Still, Connie would be quite happy with a lot of women out there. We are no longer in the era of Mad Men and making a martini for our man. It is less being kept and more just the satisfaction of having a man, however briefly. This week we are exploring the women who do this; their motivations, their psychology, their dysfunctions.

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