Real Whores

Today was so stressful. The Professor, God bless his soul, was even more unusually annoying than usual. He gave me an assignment to do that would take 15 minutes. After literally 3 minutes, he was banging on the door, wondering why I hadn't done it yet. The whole day was like that with him. He got annoyed at his assistant whispering one word to me while he was on the phone. We resorted to 3rd grade tactics and wrote notes to each other to finish up an assignment he gave us - in silence. He would really benefit from some Eastern meditation. Silence is golden in his life. When he finished the phone call he asked "What were you doing?"

"Oh - just writing notes to each other."

"Love notes?"

When he left the room momentarily, I decided that he would love to see the two of us in some state of scantily-dressed mud wrestling or worse. All men fantasize about two women. Even his assistant thought so. We were hysterical with laughter thinking about it, and while we were in hystericas, he comes marching back in the room - the smiles on our faces still lingering but stifled somewhat.

Later in the morning, Mr. Professor shlepped me to his other office - about a 5 minute car ride away - to explain the contents of a folder I prepared for him. "I want you here immdiately." Off I went with the driver/errand man for our company.

The driver had just gotten back from a trip to Bulgaria. It was freezing cold there. He left his wife and newborn son for the weekend and went with a friend.

"the whores are expensive there and so skinny."

"Really? How much do they cost?" I'm always wondering about the cost of things, even when I have no use for them. And sex for money always intrigued me. How do they do it. I'm not talking about the women from Eastern Europe that are brought into Israel under false pretenses. I'm talking about those who do it willingly - the high class escorts or whatever. I also need money for shit like bills and I'd love to take a vacation or even be able to afford a friggin' bath mat, but I could never ever bring myself to such method of employment. Besides, I'm over the hill for that kind of job anyways.

The driver told me they charge $100 plus $30 tip.

"Was it worth it?"

"My friend who 'did it' said it wasn't."

Obviously, he wasn't going to admit to me any transgressions he may have made on this wife-less journey.

We drove by a recently renovated large home that had been converted into a Bed and Breakfast inn. The driver mentioned that it is used frequently by hookers. The Inn's owners apparently don't mind the quick turnover of cash for 1 hour usage. It certainly beats having families with noisy kids stay overnight, who complain about the food and what have you.

I went to see the Professor, explained the contents of the folder and was back in the elevator with our driver. As we exited the elevator, some woman who looked exactly like Catherine Zeta-Jones' character in Chicago, comes trouncing in. She is wearing something low cut with a push up bra. What I noticed about her, was that she oiled her cleavage - all the way from her neck to her breasts. She actually looked nice, but something was amiss because she was dressed for evening and people don't shine their boobs here - at least not in the daytime. Whatever. I asked the driver, who knows from such things -

"Who was THAT?"

He knew she was a hooker - he called her a female escort. I wanted to know what was she doing in that building and who was she going to see? I wanted to follow her back into the elevator and figure it out. But I let it go. It was the first time I had come so close to a real life "ho" in this city. I wonder how much she charged.