It’s a cool, crisp Saturday afternoon and I am on the Orange Line going to my friend Erik’s house. Little did I know I would discover the hiring tactics of the sex for cash trade.
Upon entering the bus at the Woodman station, I was listening to my completely not paid for music on my Ipod. So I was more or less oblivious to the state of things around me. Unfortunately, those things were not oblivious to ME.
I heard the woman talking, of course, but as is the ways of the bus faring crowd, you gain the ability to ignore the ramblings of crazy people. But, alas, she was not crazy. She was in fact: A Whore.
“…pussy on the street” was what took me out of my System of a Down haze.
“Pussy?” I thought, “This is a weird hobo”. So I knocked one ear piece out and gave a listen.
“All you women on here, you could make 2gs like I did last night. Ain’t no thang, just get off this bus with me, and come make some BIG cash”.
I knew instantly she was a prostitute, but it took me an extra second to realize that she wasn’t praising prostitution. She was Recruiting!
She looked like a large stress ball with pimples, wore three size to small pants, and had last brushed her hair during the Second Clinton administration. This made me doubt her claim of 2 grand in one night, but I knows there’s desperate men out there, so I gave her the benefit of the doubt. She continued on like this, preaching the good word of whore-dom like a southern Baptist preacher, until she saw the Russian girl on a phone.
I am aware that whores are low on the totem pole for social etiquette, but even they have to know its rude to interrupt someone on the phone. Well, THIS hoe must have thought she, herself, was on the other end of the line because she went on to say,” Damn, girl, you know how much you could make with that ass?”
The Russian girl continued to speak her language into the phone, turning away from the intrusion.
The whore went on “Naw gurl, you could be making bank! You get off this stop with me, and Ill get you set up.”
“Please, Leave me lone”, she said, turning away even more.
“Ill get you out on a corner and you’ll be makin money, bitch!”
“Leave before HIT you.”
I should mention that at this point everyone in my section of the bus was about to feed this chick a buffet of knuckle sandwiches. Finally, though, the bus came to a much welcomed stop at Ventura.
The whore took a quick look around, “Whatev. More money for me!” and promptly got off the bus as if she had just won a spelling bee.
A spelling bee for prostitutes.
