I Lead a Sheltered Life

There’s a first time for everything, I suppose.

So I’m coming back to the office from a departmental boat trip last night around 11:15 or so, along with Adam and Dave, a couple of coworkers. (Yeah, the younger crowd is still partying over in Georgetown, but we suburbanites have to make the trek out into the boonies, so we’re calling it a night.) As we approach our building along M Street, we notice a young woman approaching from the opposite direction. Thin, blonde, and wearing a matching green skirt and numbered jersey. “Heh, the cheerleaders are out,” Adam comments, but we don’t think too much of it — an unusual choice for evening attire, but not out of the realm of possibility.

Suddenly, as we cross paths, she stops and puts on the biggest smile and faux-sweet act: “Heeeey, guys, where are you headed?”

It hits us all at once — she’s a pro.

Stunned into silence for a moment (after all, this is the middle of M Street on a “school night”), my mind goes blank. Fortunately, Dave keeps his wits and just says, “Back to the office; right there,” and we move along.

No, it’s not a big deal by any stretch of the imagination, but it occurs to me that after working in this city for more than a decade, I’ve never been propositioned before. For something that, distasteful though it may be, I would have assumed to be part of city life, I’m honestly surprised.


At 12:20 AM, Kori said...

HILARIOUS! I can't believe there was a working girl that close to the office. Who said all the fun was with the young kids in Georgetown?

Two nights before we left DC for our move to Chicago, our friends took us out across the Bay Bridge for a crab dinner in honor of Mike's birthday. The poor guy had to spend most of it with movers packing his stuff, so fresh crabs right on the bay seemed an appropriate reward. As the five us (the other couple and their infant son) drove back into DC on New York Avenue, we were stunned to see an entire row of prostitutes. I mean, I know that's not the best area of town, but all the sudden we felt like we were in an HBO documentary. Nine years in DC, and not one working girl in sight....until 48 hours before we moved.


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