Dave, the prostitute, and I

One day a few years ago, my friend Dave and I were driving home from the north side of Houston, TX, near Bush Intercontinental Airport.  My car was low on gas, so we stopped at a Chevron, and as soon I walked out of my car, a rather large scantily clad black woman made eye contact with me.  Immediately, she asked me if I had 8 cents (and mind you this isn’t the 1920s when 8 cents had much more buying power).  Before I could even reply she said, “I’ll give you head for it.”  I said, “No thank you mam, but you can ask my friend.”  I pointed to the passenger seat.  The prostitute walked over to his side, knocked on the door, Dave opened it, and they began to converse.  I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but after a minute or so, she left us and walked into the gas station.  As I paid for the gas with my debit card, she came out, and approached me again saying, “You know you want some of this,” as she held her breasts.  I said, “I don’t believe in subjugating women, using them like material objects - that’s not my mentality.” (Yes I really said that!)  The prostitute then replied, “If you won’t fuck me then feed me.”  I thought about that for a minute.  I thought about caring for others and what that really meant to me.  So I said, “Okay… there’s a Burger King across the street, you wanna go there?”  She said, “Yeah, yeah...”  She hopped in the backseat of my car, and I drove her to the Burger King. 

(In retrospect, this might not have been the wisest decision, considering that any number of things could have gone wrong – she could have had drugs on her, the police could have suspected me of trying to use a prostitute, she could have went nuts, who knows…  The radical side of me wanted to forget all those things and just embrace loving others at any cost regardless of the consequences.  I suppose living up to ideals can be somewhat risky in a less than ideal world.) 

Well, we arrived at the Burger King.  And walking into it was such a…umm…awkward experience.  There we were, my friend and I with a woman dressed in hooker garb, and then I pulled out some cash money and paid for her meal.  I’m pretty sure I was misconstrued as her pimp to the people there.  I bought her a burger, and then I told her it was splitting time.  She thanked me for the food, and that was the end of that.