Our first specimen looks to me as if she might be a hooker.
Okay, not might. I’m pretty damn sure that she is.
And not the shockingly cute dirty mouthy way, either. In the way that I’m a little nervous to talk to her for fear that she might somehow suck me into conversation about stupid stuff for hours. Being the nice, want-to-be-liked Canadian that I am, I would be forced to nod and smile for about 2 minutes before I just told her to walk the fuck away because I can’t deal with it.
Anyway, I digress.
So initially, I’m outside smoking, and she walks by. Once she’s past me, she says “Hi” while not looking around or making any sort of eye contact whatsoever.
I’m a little mystified, wondering who she’s talking to, but I just shrug and figure the hi was directed at either her imaginary friend or the greasy crack addict on the corner.
I run into her again when I go to have another smoke. She asks me for a light; I offer it up and she says thanks, and I say no problem.
I go to make a phone call. When she’s done with her cigarette, she walks up to me and plants herself right in front of me.
She’s giving me the eye.
I’m a little concerned.
I raise my eyebrows at her, like, “Yes? What can I help you with? Except please don’t engage me in pointless, frustrating conversation because I’m really not feeling it right now.”
(I have extremely expressive eyebrows.)
She eyes me a little bit longer, then says, “I spoke to you twice tonight and you haven’t spoken at all.”
Now it’s just the one eyebrow I’m cocking at her.
I’m not clear on why she gives a shit. In the first instance, that “Hi” must have been for me, but wow – excuse me for not noticing since your back was turned to me.
And secondly? When I loaned her the lighter? I think I remember saying “Sure” and even, “No problem” in The Great Lighter Loan.
“Oh.” I said.
“Yes,” she said.
“Hi,” I said.
“Thank you,” she said.
Marching off, into the sunset, from one real hooker to just a dirty mouthy one…I would guess I’ve been served.