Which one’s the eunuch?

Is it just me, or do all girls get the wildest, weirdest, most preposterous propositions all the time?  Or maybe it just happens to Tgirls?  Anyway, here’s the latest:

I’m sitting in a cafe in Florence with a girlfriend, and this Middle Eastern guy keeps staring at me.  I guess my top was pretty low-cut, but really — believe me! — I wasn’t at all being purposely provocative.  He wasn’t bad looking himself; and from his tailored outfit, you could tell he had money and taste.  So he sends this other guy (butler, employee?) over to our table to ask if I would like “an audience.”

Is the guy some kind of royalty?  Naturally, I’m intrigued.  So I go over to his table.  It turns out he knows who I am — has even read my blog!  And quickly he gets to the point:

“I wish for you to be my guest.”  He touches my hand and looks deeply into my eyes.  Then he motions to his butler sidekick to hand me an envelop and explain to me all the necessary details.

The envelope, I can sense, has money inside — but the ungodly amount I could never have guessed.  Stunned, I listen:

I have been invited to one of his palaces, where I will join other girls, perhaps 10.  Since I am the only girl who is not born a girl (and am still pre-op), I will first have to have an orchiectomy!  Not to worry: the castration will be performed by the very best surgeon.

“But if the prince is attracted to transsexuals like me, why must I be castrated?”

“A eunuch is allowed to join a harem, but a man is not.”

“Why not just go ahead and pay for my complete sex-change?”

“Because then you will no longer be special.”

TO BE CONTINUED>>>>>>