I show up for my boyfriend’s birthday in a tiny tight red cocktail dress and high heels. I’m dragging a suitcase behind me. We stand on the sidewalk as a truck pulls up with a trailer marked: “exotic car rentals.”
People from my boyfriend’s building are giving me the once over. They’re looking at him, looking at the trailer and back at me. The Porsche convertible vrooms to a start. Yes it vrooms. This is a sexy car. My boyfriend gestures at me and the car and declares,
“It looks like I pulled out my credit card and bought the whole weekend.”
That is the nicest way anyone has ever called me a high-end hooker.