My Girlfriend The Welfare Cheat.
Recently, there have been several stories on my FaceBook wall concerning women who collect welfare, food stamps, medicaid and Section 8 housing while steadfastly refusing to work. The most recent was a woman with a husband and three kids who stays home all day and smokes weed while sucking on the Government teat. Now, here's the kicker: she feels no need to find any sort of gainful employment since the State of Texas is providing money, medical, an apartment and food stamps for her, her children and her equally lazy assed husband. As a guy who puts in forty hours a week at a Casino in order to pay my bills, put food on my table and have medical benefits, this irks the shit out of me. But then again, I myself am no stranger to this type of woman.
In 1991, I was unemployed, yet searching for a job. One day, I was in a book store and caught the eye of a blonde wearing a mini skirt and black leather boots. I found out her name was Trish and we immediately struck up a conversation. She said she thought I was cute and we went out on a date that same evening. We eventually ended up back at my place and had sex,thus was the beginning of a short lived relationship.
For some unknown reason, Trish's idea of a great date was going to a bar, downing several beers and then going back to my place for a few rounds of sex. And while the sex was good,mind you, we never went to a movie or did anything else other than hang out a bar so Trish could down several bottles of suds. Her interests were few. As far as people go, Trish was as dumb as a box of rocks. Our conversations consisted of her favorite video or TV shows or favorite rock star. She knew nothing about current events or even cared about what was going on in the world for that matter. Now,you're probably thinking," But Joe,didn't you say you met Trish at a book store?" Well, yes I did. But the book she was reading was the biography of rapper Vanilla Ice. Enough said about that.
Trish readily admitted that she was on welfare, food stamps, medicaid and was living at her Mom and Dad's house while waiting for her Section 8 apartment where she and her eight year old son were going to live. She didn't want to get a job because her benefits would have been reduced . As long as she had her son living with her, Trish would receive all kinds of Government goodies while people who worked for a living would be paying the freight for the two of them to live a life of comfort and ease.
And while Trish wasn't the most intellectual person I've ever met, I feel she was smart enough to know that in ten years her son would be eighteen years old and her ride on the Government gravy train would be coming to an end. I say this because during one of our nights of passion, Trish took the condom I was about to use and began to play hide and seek with it. She then held it up in the air and made a proposition: If I got her pregnant, she wouldn't hold me responsible in any way. As far as she was concerned, I could simply walk away and never have any further contact with either her or our child if I so desired. Trish had figured out that in ten years her son would be old enough so that she would no longer be eligible for Government assistance. In other words, lazy girl would have to go and get a job(horror of horrors). This way, Trish would have another seventeen to eighteen years to leech off of the Government.
My reply was an emphatic," No." I told her if we did have a kid together, I would want to be a part of his or her life. I also didn't want to have a child at that point in my life. Especially with a woman I liked,but didn't love. Also, in the back of my mind I was thinking, " What if Trish changed her mind and decided to go after me for child support ? Eighteen years of having to fork over money for a child conceived on a whim held no charm for me. The matter was dropped and we went back to having our usual fun of sweating between the sheets.
Eventually, we broke up. Trish and I had nothing in common and good sex does not make for a lasting relationship. However, I did bump into her in 1997. I was going to a Spa to get a foot massage and as I got into the elevator I bumped into Trish who was wearing a sun dress and was at the Spa for a tanning session. Trish said that she was still getting welfare, food stamps, medicaid and was happily ensconced in her Section 8 apartment which she shared with her boyfriend who had a job. She bragged ," I do nothing all day but hang around." I didn't say anything, but boy was I pissed. Besides, I thought you couldn't live in a Section 8 apartment with a boyfriend, especially if he was employed. But hell, what do I know? What I do know is that while I busted my ass for eight hours a day in order to enjoy an occasional foot massage, Trish ,still happily unemployed, was at a tanning salon greedily and gladly sucking on the Government teat. You know,sometimes life can be unfair.