Tour De Hooker

So there I was, last night, lounging on my expensive couch. When suddenly, yet not surprisingly, I received a text from one of the fellas that read: "slooter huntin time." A Scope swish, brown loafers, matching khakis and wrinkled button down later and I was en route to a supposedly "very, very, hot bar"..

Turns out, in the deep south, "very, very, hot bar" status is code word for middle aged crowd shit hole. But considering my strong affinity for girls with low self esteem, sifting through a mob of depressed moms, divorcees and sex crazed cougars would seem ideal. It wasn't. And needless to say, the night was looking like a total bust. That is, until I was approached on my way to the car.

As I shuffled through my pocket for the car keys, I noticed someone off in the distance riding a bike. Seeing as she was cycling aimlessly at 2AM, and giving me an 'eye' of sorts, things were finally shaping up.

Chick On Bike: Hey, hey you! What kind of bar is that you're coming out of?

Dickens: Uh, a bar o'weirdos.

COB: hmmm, thats a nice car you got there.

D: ..oh, yea.. thanks I guess.

COB: So how old are you like 40ish?

D: No, 24 but thanks for asking..

COB: So what are you doing tonight? wanna party?

-Now, I thought I knew where this was heading, but at the same time the bike was throwing me off so I decided to let things play out.

D: What do you mean?

COB: Well I'm homeless, hungry and I give the best blowjobs this side of the Rio Grande.

D: ...bingo

After considering the offer for way too long, I made the conscious decision to call it a night. Not because of the smorgasbord of stds I was certain she had, but rather, because I didn't want this chicks bike scratching my car up.