I Can't Believe That Prostitute Didn't Fall In Love With You

January 15, 2010

I have to say, I'm pretty shocked.

I mean, I thought the two of you really had something. I guess I was wrong. In fact, there's no guessing about it. I was wrong. I was dead wrong. I was about as wrong as you can get. I don't know if it's possible for a person to be more wrong than I was. On the grand scale of wrongness, I'm right up there hovering near the top.

Seriously, man. I can't believe that prostitute didn't fall in love with you. I mean, it was nothing at all like Pretty Woman. Granted, you look nothing like Richard Gere, and she more closely resembled Eric Roberts than Julia, but still.

I can't tell you how red my face is. Well, yeah, I can. It's about as red as your genitals are right now.  She definitely left you with a parting gift, as it were. I don't know what you two were up to, but really, you should probably see someone about that. At least talk to someone about the swelling. Maybe there's a salve you can use.

I'm really at a loss for words. I had such a good feeling about this one. I mean, when you put her up in that hotel, I thought, "Classy. He's got a shot". Sure, it wasn't the Plaza, but you know, Motel 6 is still nice. It's certainly better than sleeping under a bridge. I really thought you were going to seal the deal when you gave her that nice necklace. Hell, I took a look at it, and I thought it was real. But, what did she do? She just grunted, shoved it into her bag, and asked for her $200. Maybe that was a sign we both should have paid more attention to.

Look, you definitely need to take as much time as you need to move on, but you know, maybe this is for the best. I mean, let's say it did work out between you two. Your life wouldn't be any easier than it is now. Big Mike would ALWAYS be coming over, parking his El Dorado out front, leaving his silver-tipped cane and platform shoes all over your place. You don't need that.  Plus, what would you tell your mom -"Sorry, Ma. Crystal couldn't make it to dinner tonight - she got tagged by a John"? Knowing your mom, she'd say, "Who's John?".

I will say this: she was one tough customer. Remember that time we were playing pool at that bar, and that truck-driver tried to get too familiar, and she sliced him with that box-cutter? Where the hell was she hiding that thing?? I swear, I've never seen someone draw so fast in my life. She was like a push-up-bra-and-daisy-dukes-wearing Lone Ranger. Seriously, she's the Jedi Knight of whores. That trucker had no idea what he was stepping into, huh? I'm guessing he might pause a second before he calls someone "Sugar-tits" again.

Oh come on, of course you'll find love again. Because, let's be honest, you didn't really find it in the first place. I think we can both be truthful here - she was only in it for the cash. There's no easy way to put this, but you were used. You were simply a business transaction. That sucks, but it's the truth, and as your friend, I have to tell you the truth. So, yeah. You got screwed and she left. For what it's worth, I'm still here for you, pal. I know, I know. It hurts a lot right now. But, in time, it will heal.

I wish I could say the same thing about your genitals.