Paid By Spayed
the first week of my miami business trip i decided to let my hair down [by putting it in piggie tails]. i went out for dinner and then made a stop into the hotel bar.
i won't bore anyone [including myself] with the details about the conversations that i had in the bar. suffice to say that there were two drunk men that i talked to. one who talked to me quite a lot and was very excited by everything i said. he also kept commenting on how beautiful my teeth were. that kind of gave the willies. for a clever nickname i'm going to use spayed, as in this guy should get spayed.
after a night of drinking spayed asked me to check out the layout in his room. i am the queen of stupid and thought that i could get in and out of the room without being bothered and then run to my room...
oh, hell no. he handed me a bunch of papers that were xeroxes of his latest newsprint appearances then tried planting a kiss on me. a big ugly french kiss. i clenched my lips as hard as i could and mentally squirmed. i got out of his room STAT but he still followed me and chucked a santa hat into my hands. [the santa hat having something to do with the type of business he's in, which unfortunately puts him into contact with children - no, not as santa]
i avoided this 'gentleman' like the plague. until this weekend when my boyfriend was in town. with the boy by my side i knew that spayed wouldn't try anything... he did however make some funny statements. i honestly feel like i would be remiss in not sharing them because they are so very... is skin-crawly a word? yeah, i didn't think so:
"this is your brother? [pointing at the boy] tell me this is your brother. you two have the same head!"
"look at you! you two are in love and you don't even know it yet. it hasn't hit you yet. man that's going to be hell!"
"i spend so much time making money that i have to pay for sex. i've got a girl up in my room on ice, right now, just waiting."
and the boy's personal favorite: "you've got to take care of mr. shortarm, that's what i live by"
i saw spayed again last night and he just held out his arms for a hug. i did it against my better judgement. i then turned and walked away as fast i could yelling 'i gotta be somewhere' over my shoulder. i did have to be somewhere; somewhere far away from this sad and lonely bastard.
let's just say that this trip has not set me up with favorable impressions of the opposite sex. most of my friends are guys and the workings of the male mind are not a huge shock to my system. however, i didn't know that someone would so freely admit to having a prostitute in their room... "those girls work really hard for their money, every single cent" said the boy.
oh god... that just got me wondering how he knows that. see how illogical i am? his experience with paying for sex is only with getting dinner and then crossing his fingers. when things go well, i'm always ready to throw a monkey wrench in. worrying about him getting a call girl is like worrying that i somehow had a porn career that i have somehow blocked from my mind.
where do i get this stuff?
