I didn't think I looked like a prostitute when I left the house today...

But I suppose there's always room for error in judgement?  I'm not sure.  I left the house in my work shirt, a pair of shorts with the zipper classily wrapped up in a hair tie to prevent it from falling down and my precious faux Ugg boots my Nana bought me while I was in Idaho.  I know what you're thinking..."Ugg boots in Guam?  Isn't it really hot? Boo you whore, looking all seductive in your calf high Ugg boots."  I couldn't find socks.*  It was also a terrible mistake.

*I didn't actually look for them.

So tonight this happened...my conversation with a rather drunk and rather old man.

"Can I get a beer?"
"It's going to be five dollars."
*Hands me four dollars crumpled up.
"You're short a dollar.  Don't make me take the beer back."
"Can I ask you a question?" 
"You sure can, but make it snappy....It's been a long night and I'd like to go home."
"Oh wow, that was rough.  I don't think I like you.  You just made me feel uncomfortable."
"Don't be like that, I gave you my real name which has to count for something. Just don't ask me anything inappropriate."

*Leans in and gets really quiet.
"Get on with it, ask away.  I really have to get back to work."
"You have a very beautiful face."
"Thank you but seriously..."
"I'm looking for...services.  Do you think you could help me out? Would you be willing? You're beautiful."
"Uhhhhh....Absolutely not."
"I'm willing to pay good money, whatever you want.  I'm just looking for certain..."
"Nope, not happening. Ever."
"Are you sure? Okay."

I'm not sure if I was mortified or amused.  I wasn't the only one he propositioned so I must not have been all that special.  So I did what any girl would do....I considered it and asked him what he was willing to pay.

Just kidding.

On a serious note...I wasn't even wearing the bra that makes my boobs look like a $7,000 dollar investment.  I just walked away and tried to wrap my brain around what had just taken place.  Later on he came back and was looking at my sleeve and asking how far my tattoo went across my chest.  Unfortunately for me, there was no bar between us as the conversation was taking place so I did a decent amount of hand swatting.

A day in the life, eh?  And remember kids, stay classy and don't proposition bartenders for sex because it probably won't happen....or it might so I suppose it doesn't hurt to ask.  Just not with me. Ever.

Xoxo
Riley Writes.