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Reading Dostoyevsky I would be pressing the key that triggered the message “37F,” in response to the common question “What bra size are you?
” Once I had a handle on how it all worked, it was the easiest money in the world. ” “Sure.” Unless I didn’t feel like talking to him and then, “Short,” I would type. My publishing job involved a lot of filling envelopes and typing up minutes.
The overall challenge was to win the Queen of the Night award for the receiver of the most texts, the winner getting a £25 bonus.
The first time I achieved that lofty height, I felt oddly proud.
But I wasn’t writing, which was the whole point of my being in this city. It was a challenge to stay awake if I had been answering texts all night.
I brought my laptop to the office and devised a system. I kept trying to see through to the bigger picture, a day when I would understand the whole magnificent process of the creation of the shiny and magical product I had worshiped since the age of 3: the book!
I came to love London once I’d conquered its back streets and understood its secrets, but my first year living there was bleak and harrowing.
I secured an entry-level job in the publishing industry that covered my rent and nothing more.
A chat room is nothing but just an another corner of the website which helps you to get connected with another persons with or without reveling your identity.
It was a job on the fringes of the sex industry, but strict rules existed: no under-18s, no violence, no incest; any mention of these subjects and I had to “terminate the dialogue.” It was forbidden to give out personal information, to arrange to meet with anyone or to respond from one’s own phone rather than through the automated system.
I thought I would be shocked by these anonymous voices coming in from the night, but I quickly discovered that the sexual imagination of the average man who responds to such ads tends to be fairly predictable, so much so that generic response keys had been programmed.
Even there exist a popular saying about the true friendship and i.e “A friend in need is a friend indeed”.
It becomes true when you get someone with whom you can share your problems and get some interesting solutions to cheer you up in no time on these chatting sites.
Ten minutes of quick-fire response to the queues of messages, 20 minutes of writing. I would stare at my empty document and blink and then turn back to the sexually charged messages and respond to a man who wanted to know how long my hair was. But in reality I just went up and down to the mailroom all day, and there was no contact with the mystical departments of editorial and marketing. Occasionally someone would break through with an alarming suggestion or image, but I’d just hit the terminate button and have a drink of coffee to repurify my mind.