COLUMBUS PROSTITUTE:
It's raining out as I drive past the University. Lightning behind me. It's well past midnight. Humidity rushes in as I roll down my window. I drive into the motel parking lot. The first thing I see is a big red neon sign. DRIVE THRU CHECK IN ----------> A drive-thru check in, ....this should tell me all I need to know. The lady at the window looks bothered. She can't find my reservation. "I booked it through Orbitz!", I say too loudly over the intercom speaker, "$60!". She fumbles around. Obviously frustrated, she hands me paperwork to sign and a tiny envelope with 2 card keys in it. "You can sort it out in the morning with the Manager," she tells me, through her bendy, silver microphone. She is wearing what looks like doctors scrubs, "Have a nice night." she begrudgingly offers, and slams the retractable drive-thru door shut.
I drive around the motel looking for Room 108. Hmmmm... 102, 103, 104, 105, 106, almost to the end of the building...ahh, 108. No cars parked around me. Light night at the old drive-thru motel. Well, it is a Tuesday night in June, in a college town. I back my SUV up to the motel door, popping the back hatch. I'm only staying one night so I have very little to carry in. A small overnight bag, a toiletry bag, suit and shirt on a wooden hangar and a folder with the next day's agenda on it.
I open the door to find a nice sized room. Looks clean. TV, microwave, coffee maker. I drop my bag on the King Size bed and walk to the back of the room to hang up my suit. I hang it up, brushing the back of the suit, and put my toiletry bag on the bathroom countertop. I turn to go back and shut the motel room door and BAM. I jump back and let out a high pitched, "WOAH." Out of thin air a woman has appeared in my room.
She looks at me sideways, tilting her head just a tiny bit. She is no more than 5'1" or 5'2". Very slight, skinny, withdrawn even. She is wearing red fishnet stockings, tiny jean shorts and a red top of some sort. She also has a bigger purse than she should have strewn over her shoulder. He hair is blonde and short, maybe up. I can't tell. She is pretty or was pretty. She might be 30, or a really badly aged 20. I can't quite tell that either. She is standing two feet into my room, directly in the doorway. "Can I borrow a cigarette?" she asks quietly, glancing around the room. "I'm sorry, but I don't smoke," I reply, taking a step towards her. I know what this question means. I know what's going to follow. I've been around the block a few times. I know who and what she is.
"Are you alone?" she asks suggestively. "Yes." I reply, ......too quickly. I should know better. There could be two 6'5" bikers just outside the door, and upon hearing my answer of Yes, they could walk in, shut the door, and I would be robbed. Maybe even waking up in a bath of ice, minus a kidney. "Would you like some company?" she adds, moving towards me. "No, I'm good, I just got in and I need to get to sleep, " I explain. I step towards her.
"$100, I'll suck your dick." she purrs, looking at me or through me. She is more direct now and maybe getting slightly agitated. We are 5 feet apart now. "No, thanks, I'm really tired. I need to be up at 6:00am" I answer. "Aww, $60, best blowjob you'll ever get!" she says with some pride and gusto. Here I hesitate. Not because the thought of actually agreeing to this deal is crossing my mind, but I am just digesting the offer of a $60 blowjob. A man hears the word, "blowjob", and everything slows down around him. Instinctively, I ALMOST say to her, "Well, the best blowjob I've gotten is always the LAST blowjob I've gotten. Haha.", but I say no to her again and uncomfortably smile at her. I don't want to hurt her feelings. She is obviously a troubled soul, probably addicted to some drug, crack, meth, whatever. For her to offer to suck a stranger's dick at a discounted rate late on a Tuesday night in a crappy motel must be a soul-numbing experience for her.
"Can you lend me $10 or $20?" she meekly asks, now resorting to begging. I only had a crisp $10 bill in my wallet at the time or I might have given her money just to ease my conscious, but I don't. "I really don't have any money." I lie to her. I take another step towards her hoping she'll get the hint and turn and leave.
She starts to unzip her oversized purse. A second of fear overtakes me. I have no idea what she might have in there. A gun? A knife? A cigarette? I'm away from home, in a shady motel at 1:00am on a Tuesday night. I step forward. She's now looking into her purse. I gently grab her shoulders and turn her around. She feels light in my hands. Frail. Beaten. I quickly walk her the 4 steps to the door. I try not to push. One more step. I release her shoulders. She is standing on the concrete walkway outside my room. I shut the door. Deadbolt. Flip the clasp over the upper lock.
I turn on my computer. Log into chat. Tiny people appear on my screen. I talk to them.
It's raining out as I drive past the University. Lightning behind me. It's well past midnight. Humidity rushes in as I roll down my window. I drive into the motel parking lot. The first thing I see is a big red neon sign. DRIVE THRU CHECK IN ----------> A drive-thru check in, ....this should tell me all I need to know. The lady at the window looks bothered. She can't find my reservation. "I booked it through Orbitz!", I say too loudly over the intercom speaker, "$60!". She fumbles around. Obviously frustrated, she hands me paperwork to sign and a tiny envelope with 2 card keys in it. "You can sort it out in the morning with the Manager," she tells me, through her bendy, silver microphone. She is wearing what looks like doctors scrubs, "Have a nice night." she begrudgingly offers, and slams the retractable drive-thru door shut.
I drive around the motel looking for Room 108. Hmmmm... 102, 103, 104, 105, 106, almost to the end of the building...ahh, 108. No cars parked around me. Light night at the old drive-thru motel. Well, it is a Tuesday night in June, in a college town. I back my SUV up to the motel door, popping the back hatch. I'm only staying one night so I have very little to carry in. A small overnight bag, a toiletry bag, suit and shirt on a wooden hangar and a folder with the next day's agenda on it.
I open the door to find a nice sized room. Looks clean. TV, microwave, coffee maker. I drop my bag on the King Size bed and walk to the back of the room to hang up my suit. I hang it up, brushing the back of the suit, and put my toiletry bag on the bathroom countertop. I turn to go back and shut the motel room door and BAM. I jump back and let out a high pitched, "WOAH." Out of thin air a woman has appeared in my room.
She looks at me sideways, tilting her head just a tiny bit. She is no more than 5'1" or 5'2". Very slight, skinny, withdrawn even. She is wearing red fishnet stockings, tiny jean shorts and a red top of some sort. She also has a bigger purse than she should have strewn over her shoulder. He hair is blonde and short, maybe up. I can't tell. She is pretty or was pretty. She might be 30, or a really badly aged 20. I can't quite tell that either. She is standing two feet into my room, directly in the doorway. "Can I borrow a cigarette?" she asks quietly, glancing around the room. "I'm sorry, but I don't smoke," I reply, taking a step towards her. I know what this question means. I know what's going to follow. I've been around the block a few times. I know who and what she is.
"Are you alone?" she asks suggestively. "Yes." I reply, ......too quickly. I should know better. There could be two 6'5" bikers just outside the door, and upon hearing my answer of Yes, they could walk in, shut the door, and I would be robbed. Maybe even waking up in a bath of ice, minus a kidney. "Would you like some company?" she adds, moving towards me. "No, I'm good, I just got in and I need to get to sleep, " I explain. I step towards her.
"$100, I'll suck your dick." she purrs, looking at me or through me. She is more direct now and maybe getting slightly agitated. We are 5 feet apart now. "No, thanks, I'm really tired. I need to be up at 6:00am" I answer. "Aww, $60, best blowjob you'll ever get!" she says with some pride and gusto. Here I hesitate. Not because the thought of actually agreeing to this deal is crossing my mind, but I am just digesting the offer of a $60 blowjob. A man hears the word, "blowjob", and everything slows down around him. Instinctively, I ALMOST say to her, "Well, the best blowjob I've gotten is always the LAST blowjob I've gotten. Haha.", but I say no to her again and uncomfortably smile at her. I don't want to hurt her feelings. She is obviously a troubled soul, probably addicted to some drug, crack, meth, whatever. For her to offer to suck a stranger's dick at a discounted rate late on a Tuesday night in a crappy motel must be a soul-numbing experience for her.
"Can you lend me $10 or $20?" she meekly asks, now resorting to begging. I only had a crisp $10 bill in my wallet at the time or I might have given her money just to ease my conscious, but I don't. "I really don't have any money." I lie to her. I take another step towards her hoping she'll get the hint and turn and leave.
She starts to unzip her oversized purse. A second of fear overtakes me. I have no idea what she might have in there. A gun? A knife? A cigarette? I'm away from home, in a shady motel at 1:00am on a Tuesday night. I step forward. She's now looking into her purse. I gently grab her shoulders and turn her around. She feels light in my hands. Frail. Beaten. I quickly walk her the 4 steps to the door. I try not to push. One more step. I release her shoulders. She is standing on the concrete walkway outside my room. I shut the door. Deadbolt. Flip the clasp over the upper lock.
I turn on my computer. Log into chat. Tiny people appear on my screen. I talk to them.
VIEW 11 of 11 COMMENTS
As far as my brother goes, I'll be the bigger man prolly after some time. He really needs to learn that he can't just push people around and say anything he wants without consequences.
Anyway, give me a text some time...305-965-9431
Oohh...PICS!!! nevermind!
::takes off pants::