Wednesday, October 22, 2008

The Whore Whisperer

What it is about me, I'll never know. They seem to flock to me, even when I go all, "eww! yuck!" on them.

And it doesn't matter if they're the tranny kind or the boy kind or the lady kind--a whore will ALWAYS find me and talk to me.

I could regale you jovial tales of chatting with a tranny hooker after trying to scoff of my slice; I could tug on your heart strings with the tragic tome of a poor lady of the night who just had her toof knocked out; I could stun you with the story of the hustler who managed to pick pocket me while I convinced him I would not be taking him home.

Yes, I find them all, but what I find really interesting are the crazy crack whores that I pass every day on my way to work. I'm not walking, mind you. I'm driving. And every morning I usually pass the same 4 or 5 faces about halfway to work (Shuter Street--insert your own joke here..........). There's one that slaps on a giant smile and waves at me as I go by. Frightening, but somehow comforting.

Today, I did not have the iMobile to take to work, so I thought I'd splurge on a cab. I told the driver the route to take --which they hate, but I know from them--and sure enough, as the cabbie passed Smiley, she saw me, smiled and started waving.

How? Why? I don't know. But one of these days, I'm going to stop and either give her a coffee or a lecture.

3 comments:

  1. I just love a good whore. How? Why? Hate to get all insightful on you but have you ever heard the saying, “It takes one to know one?” Don’t hate. I’m a whore magnet too.

    ReplyDelete
  2. I have the same problem too. They must see a kinship with me.

    ReplyDelete

you better make this good.

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