Friday, August 29, 2008

So I am a hooker, now, too?

When I have to be up and out of the house at 7:15am (Uncivilized, I tell you. You'd think I worked in a factory in a Dickensian novel), I sleep, but the restorative nocturnal enterprise is compromised by my fear that I will sleep through my class. I am therefore capable of being unconscious and nervous at the same time, and the result is that I awaken about three hours before I am required to do anything or be anything to anyone.

(I am getting to the hooker part. Please be patient).

I started my day at 4am with a fifteen minute interval of self pity, but I am pleased to report that I did not cry and a few times, I even smiled into my pillow because whatever else you might say about this day, it's an easy one, teaching wise. All I have to do is show up and crack a few jokes. At 5am, I gave up on going back to sleep and went to a certain coffee and donut establishment to get on with the coffee and poor breakfast choice part of my day. (Donut).

(Now to the hooker part).

On my way, a man in a livery car stopped at the side of the road and said the following extraordinary thing:

"I'll take you anywhere you want to go for a blow job."

I pretended I did not hear him.

"Anywhere! Really!"

(As if I might request a ride all the way to Kansas in exchange for a few minutes of inappropriate sexual contact with a drunken gypsy cab driver. Jesus. H. Particular. Christ).

Still, I did not answer.

"Where are you going?" said he.

"Coffee shop," I said.

"Meet me later?" he pleaded.

And here is the part of the story where I start laughing right there in the middle of 2nd Avenue because - let's face it: when it's 5am, and one is in one's pajamas and flip flops, carrying nothing but a ten dollar bill, perhaps it is just possible that one might look as if one just might be a hooker.

Or no?

What do you think?

Either way, i took this picture when I got home. Morning over the United Nations.



I wish you all a fine and happy day during which no offers you to make you any such offers as the one described above. (Hint: get dressed before you leave the house and at least bring a handbag).

Love,

Nina

12 comments:

Julie said...

That's hilarious. I've gone out in my sweats before to take the trash to the street and gotten whistled at. Who knows what men are thinking. We know what they're thinking with, though...

Avitable said...

I try that all the time. It never works.

Annie said...

Thanks for making me laugh today.

ricki said...

Wow, that would creep me out so badly. (I knew you WOULDN'T but I was all like, "No, Nina! Don't go with him! He's a serial killer!" Because seriously...who other than some kind of whackjob propositions women at 5 am?)

But I hear you on the what-if-I-don't-wake-up anxiety. I think part of the reason I get so exhausted during the semester is that I get up at 5 to work out (so I don't weigh 300 pounds and make the campus "Wellness Initiative" come after me) and I get so paranoid about not hearing my alarm clock and waking up in time that I wake up at 2, 3, 4:30...often I just say "bag it" and get up at 4:30 because that extra half hour isn't going to do me any good sleep wise.

nightfly said...

I have the opposite problem. I have no problem with getting up too early, but I have a big problem with not falling asleep too late. Then I sort of drowse semi-awake for an hour after the alarm goes off, sometimes while walking about. I've gotten dressed and had trouble remembering the shower I just took. (Usually I also find soap in my hair because I slept through the rinse part.)

So, yeah, my wife is a saint.

Finn said...

So what you're saying here is that we all should walk around in our flannel PJs instead of getting all tarted up when we go out at night because THAT'S what men like?

Excuse me, I have to go buy more PJs.

country roads said...

All the hookers are wearing pajama pants now. It's all the rage.

sybil law said...

Hahahahahaha
The night after my friends' wedding, I was horribly, horribly hungover. I made my husband stop in this crappy part of town (read: scary) so I could get a Mt. Dew. I had to have something.
While I was in there, some guy walked in, and ever so nonchalantly, opened his hand to show me some crack rock.
I just said, "No, thanks", and he shrugged his shoulders and left.
It still makes me laugh because I am quite sure I looked like a crackhead, all strung out after a hard night of partying.
Still - your hooker story might have me beat!!!

Kate P said...

Man, there are all sorts of crazy people making inappropriate remarks to you this week, online and IRL!

Hey, I just thought of something: you turned down work, and you said you couldn't! You're growing in so many ways and I couldn't be prouder. *sniff, sniff* :)

M@ said...

Hey, that's actually pretty cool, Nina. Greetings from Vermont.

Sandy said...

Well. Um. Perhaps you could solve your money woes?? haha. Geez, only kidding. In case my sarcasm wasn't clear.
But? You must looks SMOKIN in your jammies and slippers. Because people would speed up and pass me by when I'm in mine.
:D

Tense Teacher said...

Um, wow. Were you both flattered that he thought you were hot, and completely disgusted at the same time?