This blog may or may not be true, depending on who you are.
As I mentioned, I drove for an escort agency for a short while.
During that time, I jotted down a few stories. This is one of them.
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I went to pick up "Jody" near the Staten Island Ferry, at the tip of Manhattan (drivers picked up their girls every night at an agreed location - sometimes it was a girl you knew - a regular - and sometimes it was one you'd never seen before [and of course the agency never saw them anyway]).
I got there about an hour early, so I parked the car and took a walk down to Battery Park. I stood for awhile just taking in the sights, the Statute of Liberty in all her glory and the stars over the harbor, then stood in awe of the Twin Towers all the while trying to avoid gawking tourists (this was about 1999).
When she finally came (she was a half hour late), she looked like typical white trash - thigh-high zip-sup boots, black minidress, leather jacket, like something out of a Poison video circa 1985. It was her first night with us, so I called the agency to give them the rundown. The phone girl asked me 'the question,' "Would you do her?" I said no comment.
We cruised around for a while and as we talked she slowly started to open up, like they all did. She showed me the track marks on her hand and told me the usual stories about living all over the country and being addicted to drugs. I gave her my own sob story and from there we were cool.
After a few hours without any calls, she asked me to drive her to her 'friend's house uptown. Me still being a naive new driver, I agreed. So we pulled up on the corner of 139th and Broadway. It was no exaggeration to say that at that time we were the only two white people within a 25 block radius.
There was actually a Dominican kid with big gold Gucci sunglasses (it was nighttime) standing halfway out into the southbound side of Broadway, waving and directing traffic into the drug spot like those guys who wave traffic into parking lots outside of ballgames, etc. I was double parked on Broadway when the kid walked up to my window and said "Pull around the corned mang, you look too suspicious."
So there I was, idling at a fire hydrant at one AM, at that time a bleach-blond yuppie looking motherfucker in the middle of Harlem, and a cop cruiser rolls up next to me, nice and slow. The two cops inside looked at me with an expression that sort of said "You've got to be kidding us."
They get out, shine their lights in my face, ask for all my ID. I quickly went through my options in my head, like I always do when dealing with police. Option one was to bullshit them, although I realized it would have been pretty tough to come up with even a half-believable excuse at that point. Option number two - tell them the truth (well, sort of). I went with two. I basically told them that I was an escort agency driver and that I had a girl in a house around the corner. I pointed at all the maps I had in the back seat (we used to get a lot of calls up in Connecticut and Yonkers). "What's the address your girl's in," they ask me. Of course I didn't know.
Being the genius I was, I also had a .38 in the trunk wrapped up in a t-shirt, not to mention various other products in the car. If they had searched the vehicle suffice to say my life would be a whole lot different right about now.
So they go back to their car and run my info through, find out I'm a nice young man with a clean record (another inexplicable miracle by that point).
"I'm going to tell you in plain English," the cop with the military haircut said, "get the FUCK out of here, and if we ever see you again, you're getting arrested." "Noooo problem" I said, smiling nervously as they pulled away.
Just then Jody hops into the car. She showed me the fifty piece of crack she had just copped. I drove away, wiser.
We went on a few calls later on in the night - one to an old man in Whitestone, Queens, in a nice big old house. He wanted to be punched in the face and have his nipples pinched as hard as possible. He told Jody to sit on top of him naked and 'look into his eyes' and he came from that alone. She said he also had an entire closet full of vitamins to keep him 'virile.' To think, that guy was probably somebody's grandfather. Like I always say, when it comes to people, normal is the exception.
The next call was up in Yonkers, for two girls. I met up with another driver and his girl, and the two girls went in. The tricks were some fat white dick of a kid, and his black friend. The girls stood for two hours and then I picked up Jody and she showed me the bunch of twenty-bags she had stole from the guy. I demanded my share and we headed back to Manhattan.
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