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Pending Age Verification
User ID: 286882
Join Date: Mar 7, 2015
Location: Denver, CO
Posts: 62
My ECCIE Reviews
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A response to a review
Ok, enough is enough - I've pretty much reached the dizzy limit & I believe it's past time for me to have my say.
This is directed primarily to the nice man that left that first negative review. I'm going to answer each of your snarky little comments.
I would like to begin by saying what a complete shock that review was. We spent approximately 85 minutes together and the man never hinted that he had issues. Not a frown, not a comment, nothing. All smiles and nice civilized conversation the entire time. Oh and, seeing as how he hadn’t reached.... well, the intended conclusion of our appointment, I told him that there was no hurry, that it wasn't fair to him. He was the one that said that it was okay & sometimes these things happen.
Let's start by addressing his comment about how he wouldn't have recognized me. Probably not, unless I strolled up wearing an electric blue corset. (Which is somewhat frowned upon by polite society). If you'll notice, all my pictures seem to stop at my neck.... Or it's a selfie in a mirror. I believe there might be one where you can see one eye. That's it. So, yeah, seeing as how I'm wearing jeans and a T-shirt and you've never seen my face, odds are you aren't going to recognize me, pumpkin.
Old pictures. Define “old”. There is one picture that was taken in Denver. That would be the one of just my legs in black stockings and strappy CFM stiletto heeled sandals. I still own the sandals and always have at least one pair of black stockings (because I actually WEAR them. In the real world, whenever the occasion calls for hosiery), and I have no problem putting them on, arranging myself in the same pose and taking a picture. Then we can put them side by side and see if someone can tell the difference.
As for the rest of my pictures, every one of them was taken at my house in Bossier. Which I moved into back in December 2014 and moved out of in March or April. In fact, that electric blue corset was one of the last pieces of mail I got in Bossier. The red leather top and little black miniskirt in the one shot is still my favorite outfit - yep, I wear it out. In public. With extremely high heels and black, back seam stockings (thigh highs for you youngsters. Lol). And in case you're wondering: I make that shit look freakin awesome. In other words, the pictures I have posted are a couple of months old. If that is what you mean when you say “old pictures”, then I guess they are old.
“Mommy tummy”?! Really, hon?! You are damn straight not woofin: I am a mama. Three times over even. Want to know something else? I did a damn fine job of raising my kids. By myself. With a deadbeat father that dodged paying his measly little $324/month support every way he could think of. To the tune of he's got a back child support debt of about $17,000. I'm a mama and I did it by myself and I did a fucking spectacular job of raising them to be upstanding citizens. How dare you attempt to turn being a mama into a derogatory remark?
Yes, I have tattoos. I have two major pieces on my back: a long stemmed rose with my children's names over it on my left shoulder blade and a faery across my lower back. It's beautiful work, too. I show it to everyone - it really is pretty. I have never hidden the fact that I have ink. I believe it's in all my online profiles that I have more than one tattoo.
The only tattoo I have that someone can see usually is the small four-leaf clover on top of my left foot. It has runes around it that say: RIP Travis. It is in memory of my baby brother, Travis -aka Lucky - who was murdered in June 2009. Not my ex-, hon, my baby brother. And I guess we've now determined how well you listen, huh? Cause I tell everyone who it is for and why it is there. Apparently, I win the award for actually listening and hearing what the other party said. Cause I could tell you where you're from, what you did, how you got here and how you fill the hours now that you're retired. You, on the other hand, turned a tattoo for a murdered little brother into “my ex-'s name”. Guess I must be just dying of unrequited love for the ex-, right?
As for the missing teeth: I lost those as a result of being mugged as I walked onto a postal facility to go to work. An man that wasn't even supposed to be in this country followed me onto the Federal facility that I worked at (from 11pm to 7 am) one Sunday night when I got off the bus and proceeded to try to take what was mine. He didn't succeed. But while I was convincing him that he maybe shouldn't try to take a little gringa's bag from her, I lost three teeth and cracked my sternum (his knee slammed into my upper chest while my back was on the concrete sidewalk). End result being I kept my bag & lost the teeth. He got nothing and got arrested for his trouble. Oh and I guess technically, he got his ass kicked by a little old lady that stands 5ft 2 and weighed 99 lbs. Plus he got a free trip back to whatever third world country spawned him. In retrospect, I probably should have given up the bag and kept the teeth but I really didn't have the opportunity to think that one all the way through as he was mugging me.
I was a casual employee (no benefits) so no dental, no medical (oh, they opened a workman's comp case and sent me to the ER for the cracked sternum but no one mentioned replacing the teeth). By the way, a month later, the United States Postal Service cancelled all of the casual clerks appointments with no notice. Mine too. When no other employment came through and the bills kept coming, that is when I got into my current career field.
Oh, yeah: the missing teeth bother the hell out of me. I hate it that punk knocked them out and so far, I haven't been able to get a partial or implants or anything because those particular items are extremely expensive and I just haven't had the money yet. I not only support myself - I also support two large dogs, two cats, my elderly handicapped friend and a great deal of the expenses of my daughter up north. The money for teeth always seems to be spent on something else that's more important. I'll get them someday.
I'm dying to know something, hon. If you don't give any indication whatsoever that there is a problem, how exactly am I going to address the issue and attempt to resolve it? I can't read your mind and I don't have a crystal ball, so how do you propose I fix a problem that I don't know exists? Did you give me any indication at all that you were unhappy with anything at all? If you did, I certainly missed it. I'm fairly intelligent, I generally don't miss clues like that. Did I this time? Or perhaps you didn't give any hint - verbal or otherwise - that there was a problem?
In the future, perhaps you'll take some advice from me? If the lady walks up and you're disappointed or unhappy or whatever, you always have the option of calling it off, hon. All you have to do is say something like, “I'm sorry. I've changed my mind.” or “I'm sorry but something came up” and walk away. It won't be the first time it's happened to the lady and probably won't be the last either. It happens. No harm, no foul, it isn't anyone's fault, no harm done. Why on earth would anyone continue with an appointment with someone they didn't care for? Shut it down, better luck next time and everybody goes on home. See? Easy, huh?
Don't just not say anything and then vent on a negative review. Like I said, how can I address something I don't know about? Is it right to not afford a lady the opportunity to try to remedy the problems but to throw it all out there in a review - which makes it appear that all of these issues were readily apparent but I just blew them off. Do you honestly believe that I would not honestly want a satisfied client? Really? You do me a disservice, sir.
As I said, I'm not sure why you decided to go this route with me - if it makes you feel better, you accomplished your goal: you very effectively ran off a great deal of business and made it even tougher in my little piece of the world. So, I'm done. I'm moving back up north next month. Thanks so much. I was happy down here. I loved living in Shreveport. But, if I have to scramble and scrounge and fight to exist, I'm better off doing so in Denver. Thank you ever so, pumpkin. Candace
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