I have a job hopping in and out of bed with people while they sleep.

I'm a professional hopper, and I'm paid very well for it. It's an odd job, to be honest, and I still find it strange that people pay real money just to have a stranger get in their bed with them in the dead of night, but it pays the bills. <br><br>I've been doing this for years now, and it's not uncommon to get requests from celebrities or wealthy individuals looking for something...different. One night I got a call from a man claiming to be a famous actor in Hollywood. He offered to pay me triple my normal rate if I came out to his house and spent the night in his bed. <br><br>I couldn't turn down the opportunity, so I agreed, and he texted me his address. The next night, I pulled up to his house, which was massive. It was secluded, with a long driveway lined by trees that blocked out most of the moonlight. The only light visible was coming from the front door. <br><br>I stepped out of my car, and a butler-looking guy emerged from the house. He was dressed in a tuxedo and had a stern expression on his face.<br><br>"Mr. Baker is waiting for you," he said. "Right this way."<br><br>He led me through the house, which was just as big on the inside as it was on the outside. It reminded me of a mansion, complete with a huge chandelier in the foyer and framed paintings hanging on the walls. <br><br>We eventually reached a door at the end of a long hallway, and the butler produced a key, unlocking it and pushing it open.<br><br>"Mr. Baker, your hopping services have arrived," he announced, gesturing me inside.<br><br>The room was dimly lit, but I was able to make out a figure lying in the bed.<br><br>"Ah, excellent. I'm so glad you're here. I really need a good hop tonight," a voice said from the bed.<br><br>I walked over and pulled back the covers, slipping into bed beside a man. He was lying on his side, facing away from me, but over his shoulder, I saw that it was John Baker, just as he claimed.<br><br>"Please, just get comfortable. I'll let you know when you can hopping," he said.<br><br>I got comfortable and closed my eyes, but was woken up by John shaking me.<br><br>"Hey, hey, wake up. Please hop for me."<br><br>I widened my eyes and turned to him, but his back was to me. As I looked over at him, I started to feel a sense of dread creep over me.<br><br>"You aren't Mr.Baker," I said.<br><br>"What?" he asked, turning to face me. "Of course I am. Now please just hop."<br><br>I looked at him, and his face was...off. Something about his features weren't right.<br><br>"No, I don't think you are," I said.<br><br>As I started to sit up, he elbowed me in my face, hopping out of bed at the same time. I screamed in pain and grabbed at my face, and as I did, hopping after me out of bed was the real John Baker.<br><br>"You're not my hopper! You're not my hopper!" he screamed at the top of his lungs as he grabbed me and carried me out of the room. <br><br>We ran down the stairs and out the front door, throwing open the passenger side door of my car and throwing me in. He got in behind me and sped away from his house.<br><br>"What..what just happened?" I asked.<br><br>"I don't know! Maybe they were trying to kidnap me. I don't know," he answered, glancing back at his house as we drove away.<br><br>"You said 'you're not my hopper.' What did you mean?"<br><br>"Honestly, I have no idea," Baker replied. "It just came to me."<br><br>I was so confused and my face hurt so much. I never ended up getting paid for Baker's hop, and once he realized he didn't actually know me, he pushed me out of the car and sped away. <br><br>I hopping I never have to go through anything like that again.