Last night I was cruising through the Old Port looking for someone, anyone, to flag me down and pay me to transport them somewhere else. What I got was a prostitute named Emily. I have driven her before, from Paul's Food Center to the Gulf Station on Congress Street. During the ride she had put her head in my lap and and rubbed my crotch. She ended up not having any money (shocker!) so she gave me a little bit of pot as payment. I haven't smoked this shit in years so I passed it off to someone else. Someone who was brave, or stupid, enough to smoke anything from someone who had admitted she was on an eight-day crack binge. Emily even tried to leave an empty crack vial in my cab, which didn't fly with this guy.
This time around she hailed me down at the corner of Market and Middle Streets wearing some...interesting...black top with gold trim and some leopard print pants. She wanted a ride to Bill's Pizza (or, as a fare called it on Tuesday, Pizza Bill's) and gave me $4, but then she thought maybe she didn't have enough money for two slices and asked for a dollar back. She asked "pleeeease?" and put her head in my lap, but then I noticed her hand particularly close to where I had juniorbot charging. Immediately sensing what game this girl was playing I took her hand and gave her back a dollar.
She got out of Black Betty and asked me to wait for her. I sat there hoping someone else would hop in and need a ride. But she came out a few minutes later after going up to every table and talking to the people seated at them. I assume it was to hit them up for money or to ply her trade. But she got her pizza and came got back inside. Emily told me to drive into Bill's parking lot and park near a dumpster so we can "have a conversation." I admit I was curious as to how far I could take this without giving her anything.
Emily did not beat around the bush (so to speak). I pulled up to the dumpster and our conversation started...
EMILY: I'll suck your cock for $40.
GUAK: ...
EMILY: Okay, 20.
GUAK: ...
EMILY: 10...5! I just need some money!
She talked herself down three times from her original offer without me even saying a word! She decided to let me mull over the prospect of a $5 blowjob while she got out of the cab, pulled down her pants and squatted, and pissed in the parking lot. Then the lady of the night got back in the cab...but her pants were still down around her ankles. "$5 and I'll fuck you so good," she claimed. I informed her I wasn't giving her any money. Emily pulled her pants and went on a bit of a rant. I don't remember exactly what she said, but the key words and the gist I recall accurately...
"You're fat and you're ugly. How do you expect to get laid if you don't spend any money? You don't have any money, you ugly gross motherfucker. That's why you never get laid! You should do yourself a favor and be a fucking faggot!"
You know, it's not like those thoughts have never crossed my mind, because they do on occasion.Yet I didn't get upset with the tweaked out hooker. Nor did I get mopey and depressed about it later. Instead I chuckled and calmly said "whore, get out of my cab." And she did. It was the first time I ever called a woman a whore. I didn't particularly like doing it, even though she deserved it and is, quite literally, a whore, but whatever. Fuck that chick. Quite figuratively.
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