Love (or something) for Sale

I really don’t know how to feel about the fact that a prostitute solicited me last night. At least I think she was a prostitute, though come to think of it there was no discussion of the matter, so I can’t definitively say whether the label I am attaching to her employment is accurate. It isn’t like prostitutes wear a uniform or nametag or something. She might not have even been a full-time prostitute. Who knows.

Let me describe the situation and you can judge.

So self and doggie were out for a walk last night around 10 pm. I am usually afraid of going out after dark but Penny was being a fussy, so we decided to go for a stroll, to work out some aggression. Now, we don’t live in a bad neighborhood at all, but there is a commercial district nearby on the Great Western Road, a major thoroughfare here in the West End, that is full of mini-markets and small boutique shops.

So Penny and I rounded the corner, me in my Barbour jacket, scarf, and tweed cap, and Penny in her harness. As we approached the local Spar mini-market, I noticed a rather hardened woman dancing outside of the doorway with an eight pack of Super Tennants, and singing, quite literally, her own song to the beat of, I think, Madonna.

Penny paused and gave a snort indicating moral condemnation. I pulled her along and we began to walk around the woman giving her a wide berth. It was as we were passing, she said, “Fancy a honeymoon, Love,” to me and I scowled my scowl, the one I have reserved for these situations. Sam says that this is a look of absolute abhorrence. I don’t mean to scowl this way – it just happens – it’s my nature.

The woman then began to berate me in thick Glaswegian, words I didn’t understand except for the many powerful expletives, as I continued walking, rather briskly, up the street. Not running, mind you, but briskly shuffling. She didn’t follow me but I think she got the impression that whatever wares she was selling, I wasn’t buying. I sashayed home.

When I got home Sam asked me about my walk. I said, “Penny was a little fussy, she barked at a bicyclist, she peed, I got solicited by a prostitute, or at least I think she was a prostitute.” Sam thinks that yes, she probably was.

So I got that going for me.

Ian