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yo, ma'am, are a whore


Vanity

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so it's 1 am on a weekday. my homie has work at 10 and i have work at 8. we're outside using the payphone at white castle because he needs a weed fix.

 

then you came into my life.

 

as i was looking for a broken oyster to etch my name into the plastic of the phone booth, you got out of your car, demanding, "you have a cell phone?"

 

as i regretfully informed you that there was a payphone across the street.

 

you walked right past it, inside white castle to demand to use their phone, i'm sure. after all, you're the one that's drunk as shit and deserves a 45 minute ride home.

 

after the fine patrons got sick of you, you came back out to me and my homie... damn pothead couldnt remember his hookup's number, and asked, "why are people so mean?" as we rolled our eyes and shrugged, whore.

 

you then commenced to stomp back to you car.

 

me, thinking of you as a liability to anyone else on the road, came up to you, offering to call a cab. you, crying, informed me that your husband was not picking up. I then informed you that you should really let me call you a cab, and you did.

 

i called information 2 times. they wouldn't connect me to either the cab company or the police: cunts. i even offered you a ride home, as long as you lived within a half hour's drive or so: you lived an hour outside the city. as i was on the phone, some stud came up to me in nothig but overalls asking me and my friend if we smoked; as we replied negatively, my friend stated that, "we're just trying to get some drunk girl home." he proceeded to ask, "oh? where is she? is she in a car, or is she walking?" no doubt to either ravage her, rob her, or both.

 

i then informed you that it would cost $1.35 to connect via payphone to the cab company. as you were complaining, my friend stated, "this is you last chance, after this, we're gone!" to which you responded, "why do you have to be so mean?" with fake tear in your eyes.homeboy responded, "mean? we're trying to help your ass out, babe." to which you replied, "thanks for calling me babe" in a tone that expressed more gratitude than you would ever express to the guy trying to keep you from getting raped and robbed. even ol' boy responded, "don't thank me, thank him... he's the one helping your drunk ass." even though i was farely drunk myself. You opened your purse. you had a lot of money in it, and i probably should have robbed you, but i didn't; my friend later suggested that we rob you. i took the paper bills you threw at me, cashed them in for change, and proceeded to call you a cab.

 

the dispatcher didn't want to pick you up. i proceeded to tell him that there was a very drunk girl that needed a ride, and i was just being a good sumaritan. he responded, "well, if she's passed out or something, we can't pick her up." i argued, "well, she's not passed out, she's just acting like it to ignore all the creeps around here." "i'm not buying it bud." "what the hell? that's your fucking job, to take drunk people home after they're too drunk to drive." "ok, i'll see what we can do."

 

with that, i informed you of the situation. although you were still all giddy over ol' boy referring to you as 'babe,' whore.

 

with that, we made our departure. we both regretted not robbing you; or at least telling you not to come back to the city, but it's in the past.

 

hope you made it home alive, and maybe someday, you'll realize that not getting raped is better than being called 'babe.'

 

vanity

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I had a similiar situation like this a few years back. the girl lived like 45 minutes away. I flagged a cab down and asked how much it would be to take her home. I relayed the answer to her to which she replied she didn't have any money. She decided she was going to walk home instead. I also hope she made it home ok.

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