Part time

1/13/18

It is 7 pm on a rainy January Monday. I am walking south on 9th Avenue. After a little over a mile, I go into the bar at a bowling alley. A young woman, who I think is most likely a prostitute asks to join me. I buy drinks. She wants a rum coke and I think of Selena Gomez. I have a Pinot Grigio and think of my wife. A couple of rounds later she asks the inevitable question, “Do I want to have some fun?” “Yes” I reply. Let’s bowl.” She is surprised, smiles. It’s not the first authentic response I’ve seen from her, but it is very warm, welcome.

We bowl a couple of games and I tell her I have to get going. She wants to go with me. I thank her l, give her a $100 bill, put on my coat. She kisses me on the cheek, thanks me for the date, handing me back my bill.

She stands in front of me, gently puts her hands in my pockets and slowly massages my thighs. She lightly kisses me on the mouth. She had switched to white wine. I taste that on her lips.

She whispers in my ear that she is not a full-time hustler.