Carol’s Column

Down Under wives pant for pay; here it’s zilch

I recently read with great interest that many wives of today want to charge their husbands for sex.

In a comprehensive survey among 12 000 married women in Australia, New Zealand and the United States, the conclusion proved overwhelmingly that wives wished to be paid for the marital trysts their husbands had been taking for granted.

So serious an issue has this become that Australian women have formed a union called Fees for Favours (FFF), and president Linda Stone and her committee have worked out a schedule of fees which range from R20 to R100 for a lovemaking session, depending on the couple’s financial status.

Members of the FFF claim that as a result of the sex surcharge their marriages have improved beyond their wildest dreams as their husbands now seek to get value for their money and thus their performance improves beyond belief.

I couldn’t wait to tell the book club.

Agatha Crump nearly choked on her cucumber and watercress sandwich.

“Some of us wouldn’t make very much money,” she growled, twitching her moustache which she is wont to do when perturbed.

“Speak for yourself,” said my good friend Betty.

Bertha Ginkel was enthusiastic about forming a local chapter of FFF.

“Times are hard,” she said, “I believe it’s only fair that we should charge for our favours.”

We all nodded vigorously — which caused Agatha Crump’s false hairpiece to fly off her head and land in my good friend Betty’s herbal tea.

“Let’s try it ourselves,” said Bertha, “we have nothing to lose and everything to gain.”

It is not easy telling my husband of nearly a quarter of a century, the father of our four children, three dogs, one cat, four goldfish and 23 000 silkworm cocoons that he suddenly has to pay for his pleasures.

Therefore I decided to put it in print, so I popped down to our local French restaurant and asked if I might borrow one of their blackboards for a few days. I rubbed out the escargots, poulets and pommes and substituted a suitable price list.

Short kiss — 50c; long kiss — R1; back-scratch — R5; foot tickle — R5,50; other services — negotiable with management.

On my bedside table, beside my singing alarm clock, contact-lens container, plastic mug for false teeth, lamp, piano phone and the picture of the kids in a silver frame, I placed the cash register.

On my financial asset’s bedside table, I placed the price list and then waited for him to join me.

“What’s this?” he said peering through his spectacles.

“It’s self-explanatory,” I answered primly. “I’ve decided it’s time to take a good look at our marriage and from now on, you have to Pay to Play.”

“You’re joking,” said my spouse and fell about the carpet laughing.

It is not dignified to report on the night’s events. However, suffice it to say that not once was the tinkle of a cash register heard.

The following day I came down to breakfast late because I dropped my left contact lens into the bubble bath. On the dining-room table was a huge blackboard that stated: “Services rendered: fixing Basil the dishwasher — R50; unblocking the sink — R10, changing a light bulb — 50c, letting the dogs out — 50c, cleaning the pool — R28,50.”

I was incensed. But this was not all. That night, when I climbed into bed, I noticed the cash register was on my husband’s bedside table, and on mine was a price list.

Short kiss — R1; long kiss — R2, extras R137,21.

“You’ve doubled my prices,” I shrieked. “R2 for a kiss is outrageous. And anyway, what are extras?”

“Pay me R137,21 and I’ll show you,” said my spouse, “it’s CBD or nothing.”

“CBD? Central Business District?”

“No, cash before delivery.”

Dr Arnold Needham, a US marriage counsellor of repute said recently that Fees for Favours would become the norm in America by 1990.

“It takes a little while for a new concept to gain mass appeal, but this will undoubtedly become popular,” he said.

I have news for Dr Needham: after a week of Fees for Favours in this household, I have earned zilch and my husband has a credit balance of R2 537,04. There is something wrong. Furthermore, my husband refuses to revert to the old status quo and his new motto is: “No Pay, no Play.”

It’s amazing the childish games some people play.

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