One time, I picked up a prostitute. This might be hard to believe since I've sort of spent a lot of time on this site publishing obviously bullshit stories and swearing up and down that they were real , but this story actually is real. I was I was living in South Jersey. I picked up a prostitute. She said her name was Alison. It was an accident.
I should've mentioned up front that it was an accident, but I didn't because I'm not very bright, I'm actually really stu- you know what? Just read on, you'll agree. In the winter of , I was a freshman in college, going to school in South Jersey.
Some nights, like this one night in January, I would drive around, bored. Not "let's get a prostitute and see what happens bored," but more "let's drive around for a few hours" bored, which is what I was doing the night before a huge snowstorm was supposed to hit town. It was around midnight, and I thought I was all alone on the road when I saw what I thought was a hitchhiker.
A blonde, middle-aged, mostly toothless lady hitchhiker, standing on the side of the road. She wore a tiny little cap and some tiny little wind pants and a tiny little jacket. All in all, maybe the least effective snow outfit you could put together though, we will learn, effective in prostituting. Lady, your hands will freeze, unless you're planning some kind of repetitive, friction-building, up-and-down type of motion to keep them warm, or something.
I had no real interest in picking up a hitchhiker, but when I passed by we locked eyes and she looked so sad and cold, and my little Daniel heart broke for her. I thought, What the hell, I'll give her a ride, make this my good deed of the week, I'll be a Good Samaritan. And at least it's something to do. There is seriously nothing going on in South Jersey in the winter. For the uninitiated, let me be the first to tell you: Getting a prostitute into your car is easy as pie. I pulled up next to her, introduced myself and asked if she needed a ride, and she hopped in my car, which I took to mean "Yes.
