Hey, I'm Working Here...

So that all my readers know, my wife came up with this title. I thought it was a pretty clever play on words. In fact, if it came out of my mind it would have made "Mookie's Hall of Fame Title's" list. But unfortunately, it can't since the entry was made by an outsider (I'll be getting slapped for that comment). But it's not my fault...I didn't make the rules, I just write here.

Some of the other title options I had considered prior to this:
1. Mikey Meets a Prostitute (which could either be a cheesy made-for-tv movie, or part of the stream of straight to DVD, or an odd title fr one of those old educational films we used to watch in school with the deep-voiced narrator)

2. Midnight Rendevous (also a made-for-tv title on one of those icky "adult" channels which are clearly resposible for the spread of STDs like cooties)

3. Rentacops: Special Whore Edition (a nice play on the special episodes of COPS with a dash of Super Troopers)

But anyways...
So there I was driving down a street in Des Moines through the Drake University neighborhood on my way to the ghetto Burger King (Whopper Jr's with Cheese for $1.27 after tax!!!). I notice near the campus area McDonald's (late nite menu here does not include dollar menu items, so I don't go here) there are three people and this lady walks away from two men, occasionally turning back to say something while gesturing. I couldn't hear any of it, as I had the windows up and was chilling in the air-conditioned paradise that is my patrol car. As I get closer she waves me over, so I pull into a parking lot near her. She walks over, and after asking what she needs, she informs me that she needs to get in with me and get out of there, guys bugging here, blah blah blah. I hesistate, but end up relenting since I'm such a compassionate individual. That was mistake number one.

She gets in, and tells me she has an apartment about 20 blocks away. Whatever, guess I'm skipping less than nutritional stomach comfort to do a good deed with what little spare time I have during my shift. As we drive along, she gives me this sob story about having run out of gas, her fighting with her man, who kicked her out. Mistake number 2 is that I somehow didn't hear this last part until later when I was analyzing last night's episode after the fact.

Then comes the kicker. I could tell this chick was a bit more than just haggard from a rough lifestyle (but I try not to judge). The saying "Never judge a book by its cover met its exception this night. Okay, correction, Not heeding a warning upon that notice was mistake number 1. Shift the others to Mistakes 2 and 3respectively. After telling me her sob story, things shift tracks and she tells me, "I don't do this kind of thing, but maybe we could help each other out?"

Well, first off I'm married with 2 kids (which I brought up). And my wife would have woken up in the middle of the night having sensed something wrong with her bat signal or whatever, ran top speed down and killed me and the hooker before any illegal acts would have concluded.
Secondly, I'm in a highly marked security patrol vehicle, in a nicely visible uniform that also includes my name on a shiny little pin (which I also brought up questioning her with great incredulity). Anybody up late nights could report prostitution acts going on and if the REAL cops showed up, I'm out a job, a wife, 2 kids, and walking to whichever freeway overpass I'll be living under...and gain a court date, and a possible date in jail..and by date I don't mean a day, I mean BUBBA! As a man, I'm all about sex, but c'mon, not THAT kind.

I tell her no, and ask where I can drop her off. She avoids the question, and proceeds to tell me how she's a licensed beautician, masseuse, and has a Master's Degree in Oral Sex. Maybe, I'm naive, but did she really expect me to find that humorous, much less enticing? And she even said she went to school for 4 years to earn it. Yeah, this skeezer (and I mean skeezer as lovingly as any of my beloved rap artists do in their songs)is earning something alright, but it ain't my business.
She reached over and grabbed my hand and is trying to rub all up on me pleading for my help (MONEY) in exchange for her help (God only knows what extra goodies might come at no additional cost to me! But only if I call RIGHT NOW!!!). The car came to a halt, and I got her out.

I drove around the rest of the night with the smell of whore in the car and on my uniform. the little phrase, "smelling like a french whore"? Yeah it definitely applied here. YUCK!

But out of all of this I achieved a milestone in my life. At ONLY 30 years old, I've met my first whore, err for the politically correct people, I met my first Professional of Sensual Stress Relief!

I'd say I was working here, but then again, she could have countered with the same statement.