The true tale of my encounter with the professional sex trade:
Years ago I was a volunteer assistant at a medical training course for a prestegious Washington DC university.
The course director put me and another guy up at a swank Georgetown hotel so that we wouldn't have to drive home and return early the next day. After we had knocked back a few drinks, and I was preparing for bed on the fold-out sofa, my roomie, a local lad, announced that he was going to go hook up with his girlfriend.]
he arrived back about an hour later with a woman I didn't see because I was trying to be discrete and pretending to be semi-asleep.
They went up stairs and my roomie turned on the stereo. About 5 minutes later then was some kind of disagreement. She came back down and informed me that my friend was crazy, and she left. I never looked at her, and had my head mostly covered by the pillow.
I was laying in bed, and something bothered me about what she ahad said. I keep running it through my head in a semi-sleep slurred loop trying to parse what bothered me.
Your friend is crazy
Your friend is crazy
Your friend is crazy
Errrrrrr, YOUR FRIEND is crazy...not her friend, MY FRIEND.
I sat bolt upright in the bed.
I called up to my roomie,"Hey, Dexter, How long have you known that gal for?
He told me,"I just met her 5 minutes ago"
I quickly discovered that my wallet, containing my paycheck (just cashed hours before) was gone from my pants. She had removed it unobserved, while telling me that my friend was crazy...$200+ dollars, gone with the wind.
Ain't love grand?