This actually happened Saturday evening and I really wanted to blog about it then, but keeping with my self-imposed one-post-a-day limit and my 9/11 post I had to wait until this morning. It's just an on-going thing with me. It's like these people are crawling out of the woodwork just to drive me nuts.
Saturday evening I'm getting ready for work. I boot up the computer and check my messages and email. I've logged onto Yahoo instant messenger but I have it minimized because I really don't expect to see any of the few people on my list on line. Maybe my niece up in Philly.
So I'm logged on and answering an email from a buddy in Port Headland, WA and I hear the little "tingle" from Yahoo IM that says I have a message...
I maximize and it's a message from someone I don't recognize.
"Hello?" I ask...
"Hi! You don't know me, but I saw your profile on the Yahoo members list and thought I'd say hello"
So it went on like that for a few minutes, she was a lady, 45, living in Princeton, WV a few miles from me. She asked me to look at her profile, she had a picture up so I did. Not beautiful by a long shot, but not ugly either.
So, anyway... She quickly tries to turn the conversation to sex. I've got about thirty minutes to get ready and I'm not really interested so I change the subject back...
"So, what do you do for a living?" I ask, ready to hit the 'iggy' button.
"I'm a call-girl."
"Well hon, I don't and won't pay for it, so you can forget me as a customer... Good bye!"
"I don't give it away sweetie!"
"Look, you'd have to pay ME to fuck you... Bye!"
Jesus. Now I'm getting solicited by prostitutes on line.
What the fuck...
As a cop, I've dealt with prostitutes before (Not that way!) and the one thing to remember with them, you have to assume they ALL have AIDS or are HIV positive. Besides, the ones I mostly dealt with in Philly were all men...
Unless you call a 230 pound, 6' 6" tall whore with an Adams apple, hairy arms, size 13 pumps named "Leroy" a woman...
"My names be Leroy, but yous can call me Jaquelynn..."
And this one was definitely nothing to write home about. Nothing that I'd actually pay good money to sleep with. I've never paid for it (well, that's not true... I did buy my ex a house and the sex there wasn't all that great anyway...That's my new pick-up line, by the way... "Hi! I'm Tom. Can I buy you a house?") and never will, not in that sense.
It's the nut-magnet I've got.
It has to be.
Copyright 2005 Thomas J Wolfenden