A Pointless Life

"Shower, shave your pussy and be at my office in an hour," The monotone voice buzzed over Anne's mobile phone. This call was becoming regular event and the only way Anne was able to anticipate it was when her husband had a business trip. Two hours after she had dropped her husband James off at the airport, she would sit in her kitchen. The number was always blocked and the "office" referred to was dark and empty every time she went there without being summoned.

Her questions about how he knew when her husband was out of town went unanswered. They were, as Dion so correctly pointed out, irrelevant to their arrangement. Anne turned on the shower and stepped into the warm stream, remembering how she got into this.

Three months ago she was surfing Craigslist ads, trying to fill her empty days. She had a career in her twenties but when she and James began having kids, she stayed home. Both of them had grown up in traditional families and that's what they both expected. Now both kids were in school and James was making enough money for her not to return to work. So she didn't. She didn't like working at the CPA firm when she was there and so "work" wasn't something she really sought to do.

Every day she perused the missed connections, finding some amusement in the people looking for love but forgetting the names of the people they'd seen. And really, do that many guys just have random hook ups at health clubs? Unbelievable. A click here and there and she saw the Lessons category. Maybe she'd take a class.

And there it was:

Personal Trainer for the Unmotivated -- (Minneapolis, MN)

________________________________________

Date: 2011-05-31, 10:01PM CDT

Reply to: fakecraigslistemail

[Errors when replying to ads?]

________________________________________

Are you unmotivated about life? Sitting at home, both bored and boring?

I run a unique consulting service that helps individuals who find their lives lacking direction. I will help you craft direction and learn to perform success building tasks that will get you off that couch. Your ass will be motivated.

•     Location: Minneapolis, MN

•     it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests

Anne stopped and put the glass of wine on the desk. Was she boring? She certainly was bored. Hmmm. It had been two years since her youngest son started school. Two years of really not accomplishing anything beyond reading a few books and puttering around on the Internet. Her next birthday she would turn forty. Was this really how she wanted to spend the second half of her life? Just entertaining herself with this useless crap?

No.

Click. Email. Type. Send.

Whoever was on the other end of that email address responded immediately.

From: Dion PTM

Sent: Wednesday, June 01, 2011 2:37 PM

To: Anneanderson

Subject: Well done!

Good afternoon, Anne. Congratulations for taking the first step to get off your ass and do something worthwhile. Be at the Starbucks on Fairview in Roseville in 45 minutes. I am wearing a blue polo shirt and khaki pants. Bring me a small Americano and greet me with the words, "I'm a boring person and I need your help."

Failure at any step and this will be my only communication.

Dion

Anne stared, shocked at the audacity and clarity. What was this asshole thinking? But she admitted he was right. She had initiated something new. If she left now she would be five minutes early. Grabbing her purse and keys, Anne bolted for the door. With luck she'd be there before he was and she could size him up and figure out his game.

Thirty-seven minutes later she pulled in the parking lot. Her heart was pounding and her mouth was dry. What the hell was she doing? For the first time she considered her appearance: faded jeans and a tee shirt. Fuck. This was not a good way to impress someone. Comforting herself with the fact that she was early she pushed the car door open and stepped with false confidence toward the door.

There he was. Sitting next to the window with a laptop. His brown sandy hair and dark goatee sat on a tan face. A blue golf polo and khakis were completing her survey of the mysterious stranger when he looked up and his eyes arrested hers. He knew! How did he know? Tilting his head his confident eyes darted to the counter, as if to remind Anne of his order. Small Americano.

Fumbling with cash out of her purse, Anne ordered the espresso drink and picked up a bottle of water for her own parched mouth. Three minutes later the drink was ready and she faced the stranger. He was pounding away at his laptop. His earlier certainty was replaced with a focus on his own tasks. She would have to interrupt him and say what he told her to say. Whatever the game was, she had come this far and her driving pulse told her she hadn't had this much excitement in a long time.

Inhaling deeply, Anne stepped to his table, "Excuse me. I'm a boring person and I need your help."

"Yes, you are, Anne. Thank you for the coffee," his words spit rapidly from his mouth.

She paused before he spoke again with no warmth of invitation, "Now sit."

Anne took the chair opposite him and spoke with all the nervousness of a woman who feels out of her depth, "Um, listen, what's this all about? Is this some sexual game for you? Looking for bored women who just want to spice up their life with some stranger? That's not what I'm here for."

Dion looked Anne in the eye, closing his laptop and putting it away. "You're worried this is some sexual game." It wasn't a question.

"Well, yeah. I mean, your email was kindof dickish. Come here, buy you a coffee. Do what you say. Or else."

"And yet here you are." A long pause weighed down his words, "You're asking if I'm in this to fuck a woman who spends her day trolling Craigslist for entertainment," He sniffed the air. "While drinking cheap white wine. Maybe watching Dr. Oz? Someone who can't even get dressed up to meet a stranger for coffee."

"Um. Not Dr. Oz."

"Dr. Phil then. You're someone who doesn't really put much effort into life. Someone bored with life who answers an email that calls them boring. You think I'd want to fuck that kind of person?"

Anne unscrewed the cap to her water. "Well? What's this all about?"

"No. I don't want to fuck that kind of person. You need help. You want help. I'm going to give it to you," Dion sipped his coffee. "But if you don't learn to begin being responsible and taking positive action, you'll spend the rest of your life watching it go by. I'm going to train you to be responsible and begin living an active life."

"How much is this going to cost?"

"It will cost you time. You will do things that earn money and I will be getting some of it. When you work, the checks will be made out to me by a pre-arraigned system. I'll give you some of it, but you will spend it how I tell you to spend it."

Anne's anger was immediately visible. "Why don't I just go get my own job?"

"That's an excellent question. Why don't you?"

"I had one, you know. Before the kids. But I didn't like it. So I didn't go back."

"I don't really care why you decided to check out from among the productive members of society."

She bolted out of her chair, "Hey! I didn't come here to be treated like a piece of shit!" People around the two of them looked, wondering how big this scene was going to be. "I don't have to work so I don't. I thought you maybe wanted to help me. Maybe it would be entertaining. I dunno."

"I'm definitely not going to entertain you. But you will find it rewarding eventually," Dion scribbled a phone number on a piece of paper and handed it to Anne. "You were serious enough to show up. Call that number."

The two of them sat there in silence while Anne stared daggers into Dion. An old woman who was clearly eavesdropping turned her attention back to her book. Dion pulled his laptop back out and started to hammer out some more emails. Anne looked at the paper and dialed the number on her phone. Where was this going?

"Hello! This is Pete!"

"Hi Pete, my name is Anne and a guy named Dion said I was supposed to call you."

"Oh! Great! You can start tomorrow. Show up at the distribution center at 3 and we'll send someone out with you and show you the ropes."

"The ropes? Um, he didn't tell me what this was about."

"Hahahahah! He's such a fucker. It's a paper route. So we'll see you at three tomorrow morning?"

"Um, ok." The phone clicked and Anne looked at it for answers. "A paper route? Isn't that dangerous?"

"Its easy work and you're going to hate it." Dion took the paper and wrote down an address. "Here's the distribution center. Pete's a great guy and the route is in a good neighborhood. Plus, the first few days they send someone else out with you to make sure you can do the work."

"But why?"

"You lack initiative and discipline. I could send you to Army boot camp, but I don't think either of us wants you to commit to four years right here and now," He laughed at his own humor, which she did not find amusing. "And you're thin. So fat camp would be pointless. Besides, I'm not doing this for free. You make some money, I get some of it and you'll be home in time to see your husband off to work every morning."

Anne thought hard about what was in front of her. How would she get up at three in the morning? Every morning? "How long is this going to last?"

"This? As in the paper route? As long as you want it to. You can quit at any time -- just like you can quit me at any time. But if you stick with me, you will do the route till you hate it enough to choose something better."

"This is ridiculous."

"So is living a life without meaning and the discipline to accomplish something." Dion packed up his laptop again and returned it to his satchel.

Anne thought about how pointless her day -- her life! -- had been so far, prevaricating before admitting, "I suppose."

Dion killed his coffee and stood, "See you at three tomorrow morning."

"You'll be there?"

"Of course. I love the first few days of a person's inner struggle to overcome themselves. Wouldn't miss it for the world."

"See you at three."