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Sunday, July 06, 2008 :::

A Proposition

This weekend I got propositioned by an unsober prostitute while waiting in my car at a corner in Uptown. I saw her approach the car in front of me in broad daylight. Her crack-ho outfit consisted of the typical short-shorts and a tank top with one strap falling carelessly off of her boney, malnourished shoulder. Her hair was dyed black, and from far away you could have easily mistook her for a goth hippie.

She knocked on his passenger-side window and waited patiently, but he didn't respond. When he drove away, forcing her backwards toward the curb, it didn't even phase her. So she moved onto my car, again knocking politely. I rolled down the window a crack and she peered in - her one eye was blinking about twice as fast as, and seemingly independent from, the other one. She didn't say anything. An awkward moment passed. Finally, I broke the silence. "Yes?" I asked her. "Can I help you?"

"Need a date?" she replied, after a beat, turning the entire question into one slurred word. Her teeth barely dotted the landscape of her gums.

"Need a dentist?" I wanted to reply, but that seemed cruel, and she was actually being quite polite.

"Need some penicillin?" would have been an appropriate reply, too, but the humor might have been lost on her, even with her assumingly vast experience with STDs.

"No thanks, I'm legume intolerant!" I thought about saying, cheekily, while adding a verbal rimshot sound effect, because even a down-on-her-luck crack-ho should experience a good clean chuckle at least once a day. But unfortunately I was on the spot and I couldn't actually remember if a date was a legume or some other kind of fruit.

"My Calender says July 5th!" could have been another groan-worthy attempt at humor, but that would have been a stretch, and by this point I had kept her awaiting an answer far too long, and I needed to be on my way anywho.

"Nope, but thanks for the offer," is all I could actually muster up the courage to say.

I could almost swear that she actually said "yer welcome" as I rolled up the window in her face and sped around the corner leaving her in a cloud of dust, but I can't be sure. It could have also been a profane threat. Or simply a grunt. It was hard to interpret due to her complete lack of facial expressions.

Anyway, it was my first hooker-at-my-car-window experience, and now I feel like I need to make a commemorative T-shirt:

And by "lousy" I mean lice-infected.

::: posted by dan at 11:11 PM :: [ link ] :: (11) comments Social Bookmark Button

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11 previous comments:

About a week-and-a-half ago, I was mistaken for a hooker on Lake street. I was waiting for the light to change to cross to the bus stop, and this dude pull up and rolls down the window and leans across his car. All I could think to do was furiously shake my head and look terrified. He drove off with a confused look on his face. I was wearing jeans and a tee shirt and had my tote bag with knitting over my shoulder. Not sure what he was thinking. Apparently desperation runs on both sides.

Just felt I needed to share that, because really, how often is there an appropriate time to share that story.

By Blogger raven, at 9:08 PM  

Wouldn't that be spelled "lousey"?

I was once propositioned by a Mexican man on a bike when I was walking the dog. He kept asking for "biznez" and suggesting $10, $20. Silly me, I was thinking that he was wanting to work to earn the $10 or $20, like washing the car. It wasn't until I told the story a couple hours later that I realized he wanted me polish the crome (if you know what I mean.)

Not only was I insulted to be considered a ho, but a $10 ho at that.

By Blogger otimak, at 9:55 PM  

Haha, your ho stories are funnier than mine.

By Blogger dan, at 11:54 PM  

And for the record, lousy is spelled lousy.

Do you take me for an imbecile? I thought not!

By Blogger dan, at 11:55 PM  

It's "faze," not "phase." :)

By Anonymous Anonymous, at 11:18 AM  

Lousy: I stand corrected. Clearly, I am the imbecile.

It was odd though, because last weekend I was in Atlanta for a conference. The place is teeming with homeless people who are very assertive and I thought about making a t-shirt that said something along those same lines. I contemplated the spelling of the word as I walked back to the hotel trying to avoid eye contact. "I gave a dollar to an Atlanta bum & all I got was this LOUSY t-shirt." I was totally thinking that I'd need to spell it with the E so that everyone would understand the reference to lice. Can you see it now, covered with little specks of lice and urine stains?

By Blogger otimak, at 1:01 PM  

What's with everyone correcting Dan's spelling and shit? Phase/faze lousy/lousey. Whatever. Let the man tell his funny stories of pathos in piece.

He doesn't come down to wear you work and slap the semicolon out of your, uh, right pinkie, does he?

By Blogger spatfield, at 2:00 AM  

Uh, I think you mean "peace".

By Blogger dan, at 9:49 AM  


By Blogger otimak, at 11:32 AM  

piece was an intentional typo in the spirit of my email. obviously.

By Blogger spatfield, at 4:34 PM  

raven. Maybe he was looking for directions?

By Anonymous Anonymous, at 7:15 AM  

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