Dear Drug Dealer,
You might be surprised that I'm writing to you. Admittedly, I know next to nothing about what's involved with selling drugs. In fact, when I picture a drug deal "going down," I still imagine that it begins with a sketchy guy (no offense!) answering a ringing pay phone. But there aren't really working pay phones anywhere anymore? Do you just use a cell phone? If yes, I do hope you have a good calling plan.
I assume, since drug dealing is illegal, that you don't get any kind of tax deduction on your phone bills -- even though they are a work expense. Do you even file taxes? I guess not. What would you list as an occupation? Drug dealer? No, that wouldn't do. You'd almost certainly get audited -- and arrested. Maybe you could call yourself a small business owner? You could say that you specialize in adult recreation.
But I digress... I'm actually writing because I have an idea for a legitimate business. One that you could write about on your tax forms. You see, a couple of weeks ago, I was going to the bathroom. I know, I know, too much information. But, it pertains to the business so I'm going to continue. Anyway, I was sitting there, on the toilet, and my kids were banging on the door. They wanted to talk to me. They wanted to see me. They wanted to know if I was "going poop or pee."
Can you see the issue here? I needed a little time to myself. I'm not talking about a mani-pedi and lunch with my girlfriends, although that sounds like a little slice of heaven served on fine China. I just wanted a few minutes of privacy without interruptions or interrogations. And it's not just me. There are lots and lots of other moms out there who need a few extra minutes every now and then to go to the bathroom alone. Or shower and shave their legs. Or talk on the phone with a friend without having to yell at anyone to "stop licking the baby!"
It was that day, on the toilet, that I came up with my idea for "Mother's Little Helper" -- the name is stolen from the Rolling Stones' song. You don't have a problem with stealing, do you?
"Mother's Little Helper" is, in a nutshell, a ten-minute babysitter. Ten minutes to let a harried mother answer a few emails or catch up on the news. Eat a sandwich. Unload the dishwasher. Have a quickie with her husband (or anyone she wants; we at "Mother's Little Helper" don't judge). Do you know that it's almost impossible to find a babysitter who's willing to come to your house for such a short amount of time?
It's not worth it to most sitters to take a job that lasts less than a couple of hours -- especially if they have to get in their cars and drive to your home. And, even if you have the nicest neighbors in the world who've offered to babysit if you were ever in a pinch, how many times can you really impose? Once? Twice? Any more than that and guess who's going to be the talk of the next block party?
That's why I thought that you -- a drug dealer -- would make the perfect short-term sitting solution. I needed to find someone who was used to being on call. The doctors I know are too busy. If a client phones, I need someone who's available. What do you do all day? Hang around?
Wait? Perfect. I don't know how much money you typically make selling drugs. I assume it's pretty good. But, as the "Mother's Little Helper" you could charge $2 a minute, and there are suckers who would pay... like me. Certainly, you're already used to working in tiny increments of time. (Take money, hand over drugs, walk away. How long can they take?) From what I understand, your business is quite mobile -- there's no paperwork or pointless conference calls, so you're not tied down to an office. And, while I'm not condoning this, by taking on some babysitting clients, you might just end up with new customers for your other business as well. And remember, you're only babysitting for ten minutes. You don't have to make lunch, give any bottles or change any diapers. You just need to kill (oh crap, you don't do that I hope) a tiny bit of time.
Yes, there are going to be people out there who are opposed to leaving their kids with drug dealers. That's pretty understandable. I myself initially questioned whether or not I would leave my kids alone in the house with a drug dealer. But, then, it hit me. I'm not leaving my kids alone in the house. I'm still there. I'm just trying to fold the laundry or pluck my eyebrows. No one is leaving anyone alone with you. That would be crazy. (Unless you take an infant CPR class, moms are just nuts about babysitters who say they've taken infant CPR.)
I do hope you'll give the idea some thought. I like to think that you don't intend to deal drugs for the rest of your life. Maybe you became a drug dealer out of need -- you wanted extra spending money for college, or had to pay for your mother's emergency appendectomy, or wanted to buy front-row tickets to a Clay Aiken concert (I understand that Claymates still remain the most devoted of fans) -- and have been searching for a way out. This is your way out.
Love,
Melissa