dotorg picks up a hooker

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I decided I was going out to dinner tonight. I went to Logans where they have a wonderful salad topped with a reasonable portion of steak. I then went to Barnes & Noble. Everyone I know is in there studying for the bar exam; every one of them is stressed out and I didn't want to hang around long.

So, I just went driving through town, loosely making my way back home. Along te way, I saw a huge convoy of cops heading out to bust something or put up a roadblock, and I decided to follow them. After all, I had nothing better to do.

I lost them when they made a quick loop around a mall and then drive the wrong way down a one-way street. So, I headed back toward the house.

Along the way, on a stretch of through-town highway (not interstate highway, but the type that is also a major road in the city) that is usually pretty abandoned at night, I saw a u-haul. It had its flashers on. There was young looking woman, perhaps in her early twenties, just past the truck. She was alone. This isn't a neighborhood that a twenty-something white girl needs to be alone in.

I pulled over and asked if she needed a ride. She said sure and then got in. I told her I'd take her down to the petro station (a big 24-hour truck stop where the all-night tow truck drivers usually park) a few blocks over. She said nothing.

We got to the petro station and I pulled up to the front door so she could get out. She looked at me and said "Sweetie, we've got to go around to the back parking lot if we're going to do anything." I said, "I thought you needed someone to tow your truck."

Suddenly I realized that she wasn't broken down in a u-haul. The u-haul (or at least I think it was the same u-haul) was pulling into the parking lot.

As that thought was going through my mind, she said, "That wasn't my truck. I'm looking for a little company."

At that point it hit me that she was a hooker. I told her that I had misunderstood, and apologized for the confusion. I told her to have a good night and she got out.

I then left and came home. It dawned on me on the way home that she probably was a cop, and that the u-haul was filled with more cops ready to bust someone. She was certainly more attractive than our average streetwalkers (which tend to look like they are strung out on crack) and she didn't have that characteristic "I sleep under a bridge" smell. She wasn't dressed in a trashy manner; she was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt.

She seemed like a normal person. It seems quite weird.

But, that's how I picked up a hooker.