In one of our first classes last semester, in a “get to know you” exercise, the professor asked each of us what kind of work we were aspiring to after graduation.
Some were determined to improve the environment, some wanted to work and travel, some dreamed of interviewing famous entertainers or sports figures, and some were moving on to higher education.
I must admit, when it got around to my turn I was slightly ashamed of the fact that my own hopes and dreams just didn’t compare.
My plans involve sitting here in my favourite armchair, probably in PJs and slippers, writing the odd healthcare or human interest story, or perhaps, during an especially energetic drive, I might even crank out a blog or two.
Anyway, in an effort to lighten both the moment and my low standards, I told the class instead that I didn’t really have to get a job after graduation because, well, I had a sugar daddy.
Of course, everyone chuckled, mostly because of the all too obvious distance I am from the age criteria of a bonafide “sugar baby”, not to mention the fact that it took 37 of the 40 years I have been with my particular “daddy” before being the recipient of any actual sugar — meaning my current all-expense paid trip through STU’s journalism program.
The joke carried on a minute or two, one classmate wondering aloud if it was it too late to change her answer.
Imagine my surprise when, on the front page of the Daily Gleaner this past week, I read, “Sugar babies seek sugar daddies to front tuition” captioning an article about an American website claiming there are at least 48 STU and 49 UNB students who are registered “sugar babies” with their service.
For a mere $59.00 per month, charged to well-to-do older men, the website will connect them to young women who are interested in having someone help them with various types of life expenses, tuition being one.
A couple of things went through my mind, not the least of which was: where did the Gleaner come up with that story? Some kind of warped press release notice maybe? “Join us (here the name of the website) as we welcome (and recruit) more and more of your city’s desperate young women attempting to fund their futures.”
Of course, that is extremely chauvinistic of me. After all, those alleged-sugar babies could just as easily be desperate young men attempting to fund their futures.
Either way, the Gleaner did balance the article nicely with the astounding average cost of a university education as well as pledges by the website that they are nothing more than an elevated dating service. Certainly, the website company said in the article, they in no way are brokers of nor do they advocate any kind of sex trade. (Just for clarity, aren’t those the guys who patrol seedy city streets in flamboyantly coloured coats? I don’t know, I’m just asking.)
