I ignored most of it because like all young teens, I knew it all and my parents were dopes. But they did pique my interest with all that talk about 'those types of girls'. I wanted desperately to meet some. Or at least one. And one would do because I didn't accept their disposability theory.
Their “yesterday’s newspaper” analogy sounded purposefully misleading. To a hopelessly horny virgin teen sex was like gold. If I found a goose that laid golden eggs and was willing to give said eggs to me? -I would never never throw that goose away. Years went by before I got to test my theory. But it was worth the wait. And I was proven correct. And it was worth the wait. Did I mention how much the wait was worth it? If not let me reassure you, it was.
When I found a girl like that I didn’t treat her like yesterday’s newspaper. Not one bit. I treated her like yesterday’s dinner plate. Sure she’s all sloppy and covered with crumbs, oily stains and whatever other detritus from yesterdays fantastic meal. So what if that plate was now a little crusty and beginning to smell? You don’t throw out a good dinner plate. You wash it off and use it again.
And the same goes for easy girls. Wash, rinse, repeat. The great thing though was unless she was a real skank you could count on her to do her own washing and rinsing. The repeating was, heh heh, up to you.
Still on a doomed mission to save my eternal soul, the folks tried to convince me I was hurting girls like this. I was prolonging their suffering by giving them a cheap substitute for love, when love was what they really needed. As I pondered this I'd sometimes hear them talk about somebody who'd hit rock bottom by sagely stating "Best thing for them. Now the only way is up. I think god set that up." If it was a drunk driver hitting a tree, then that tree was a tool to stop them dead in their tracks. If it was a punk getting arrested and doing some time, it was god who dropped a dime on them. Whatever it was, the misfortune was deemed a blessing in disguise. I tried calling them on it once and all I got was a lofty "The Lord works in mysterious ways. That *whatever* was his tool."
And that ended any doubts I had about 'using' any of 'that kind of girl'. Yes, she may have felt cheap afterwards, and lost even more self esteem. Especially if I only called her when I felt like it, and only for sex. I'm just helping her hit rock bottom, so she can rebound and find her higher self. It's kind of a public service if you think about it. The Lord does work in mysterious ways. And me? I was happy to be the tool.