Skip to main content

In 1996 I went to the Bronx to check out and potentially buy a car. As we were trying to locate a particular dealership I approached an intersection. A woman was standing there, seemingly lost as she kept looking around aimlessly. Once she spotted me she asked me if anyone had told me I looked like Barry Manilow. I told her no one had. She then asked if I thought I resembled him. I told her that although I was familiar with the name I didn't really know what he looked like. As we continued our conversation, I got spun around by one of the people with me who demanded to know what I was doing. I said I was just talking. He then said, "Don't you see? She's a hooker."

Days later I had another encounter with a hooker in a different state.
 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

"My parents, brother, and I left Iran in 1980, shortly after the revolution. After a brief stay in Italy, we packed all our belongings once again and headed west to the exotic and the unknown: Vancouver. We had recently been accepted as landed immigrants, meaning Canada graciously opened its doors and we gratefully accepted; we arrived at Vancouver International Airport on my 10th birthday, three suitcases and one sewing machine in tow. After respectful but intense questioning at immigration, we were dropped off at a hotel on Robson Street, which was then still a couple years shy of becoming the fashionable tourist hub it is today. We were jetlagged, culture shocked, and hungry, so that first night, my father and brother courageously ventured out into the wild in search of provisions. I fell asleep before they returned. The next morning, I woke up at 5 a.m. and ravenously feasted on a cold Quarter Pounder with cheese and limp French fries that had been left by my beds...
Post a Comment
Read more
One day I took the minibus back from school. It was completely packed yet I somehow managed to squeeze myself in. I knew sooner or later some people would get off and per the unwritten rule of busses and minibuses everyone would gradually move towards the end of the bus and thus save me from getting crushed against the door. We had only travelled a short distance when the minibus stopped to let some passengers off. Another passenger and I stepped down to allow them to pass and as we stood there the passenger suddenly exclaimed, “What happened to my wallet? Did someone just steal it?” I wasn’t sure if he was serious or just making a not-so-comical scene about not identifying which pocket his wallet was in, however, it soon became apparent that his wallet was indeed missing. Initially I briefly considered the possibility that he might have suspected me as the pickpocket and thus directed the earlier conversation towards me. Once we were back on the bus though he repeated his commen...
Post a Comment
Read more
Stacey was a nurse so Kurt knew she would be able to give him a pretty good idea of how critical it was. On the other hand her knowledge of medical jargon could make her words seem foreign to Kurt. “He’s sustained two injuries. The first one was right on impact, his brain was shaken around pretty badly. It might have even rotated and perhaps nerve fibers were stretched and veins and arteries might have torn too. The second one is an open wound where the skull broke. The brain is exposed in that area. He was probably hit by some kind of sharp object during the collision.” Stacey unsuccessfully tried to disguise a horrifying yelp that she let out. “It's possible the area around the wound is undamaged. He might be facing long-term disabilities. He’s lost a lot of blood and his blood pressure has really dropped from the trauma. He’s really weakened by the blood loss. Plus there’s the loss of oxygen to the brain. The damage may be catastrophic. And then there’s infection…” “When w...
Post a Comment
Read more