The Truth Comes Out and It is Strange

I’ve been going back and forth on whether I wanted to discuss my job here, but ultimately I’ve decided that I should talk about it, mainly because it has an effect on my love life.
I got the job quite randomly. I was doing freelance photography for a local newspaper here and looking for a more stable gig and some benefits. I had a business meeting with a friend of mine and over lunch, her girlfriend asked me casually if I was looking for job.
“Are you good with photoshop?” she asked.
“Yeah, I’m pretty decent,” I told her.
“Well, I work for a porn company.”
I nearly spit out my water.
She paused for effect. “A tranny porn company.”
I couldn’t stop laughing. I thought she was kidding. But after wiping the tears from my eyes, I realized she was being serious. She told me they were looking for someone to touch up photos and asked me to forward her my resume. I remember going home and thinking, “how do I tweak my resume to get a job re-touching porn?” I mean, really, what skills could I emphasize that would make me seem fitting for the industry? After sending in a cover letter and my resume, I was sent back a set of photos to re-touch. It was, er, difficult. A couple of weeks later, I had an interview with my boss, who I will name the Brit, and we talked casually about why he started his business and my own interests. He found out that I actually had a passion for writing and he decided to change my job description from photo re-toucher to marketing/blogging (thank god). I was officially hired a few days later.
Most people find my job hilarious. I bring them those cheesy pens where first the “woman” is clothed and then you turn it upside down and you can see she has an extra…part.
Girls, on the other hand, either love my job or slowly creep away while judging me. The other week I was having a conversation with a cute cashier at Borders and when I mentioned my job, I could almost see the words falling from my mouth and staining our conversation. It was impossible to make a smooth recovery after that point, so I bought three of those truffles they sell at the register and jetted out of there as fast as possible.
Well, at least I’ve shared the truth here. Hopefully I haven’t scared too many people away.
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