Saturday, October 23, 2004
Last Night
Out with work friends. Oh the stories.
It started out with a car full of russians pulling up next to us.
"Hey, where do yo find the girls?"
"What girls?"
"You know the girls who do it for money!"
The funny thing was, our friend who they were talking to knew instantly where to send them. Apparently he lived near Hooker Harveys for a while.
"What do they do, for the money?"
"Anything you want them to!"
Then much drunken hilarity, and startling revelations and all sorts of fun.
The night ended with me lending a pencil and a corner from my Eye Magazine to a drunk guy on Queen street who was giving a girl his number.
"I'll call you if my ride doesn't show up," she said, "but my boyfriend is coming soon, so we've gotta go."
Sorry guy, it's not your night.
-Trevor
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It started out with a car full of russians pulling up next to us.
"Hey, where do yo find the girls?"
"What girls?"
"You know the girls who do it for money!"
The funny thing was, our friend who they were talking to knew instantly where to send them. Apparently he lived near Hooker Harveys for a while.
"What do they do, for the money?"
"Anything you want them to!"
Then much drunken hilarity, and startling revelations and all sorts of fun.
The night ended with me lending a pencil and a corner from my Eye Magazine to a drunk guy on Queen street who was giving a girl his number.
"I'll call you if my ride doesn't show up," she said, "but my boyfriend is coming soon, so we've gotta go."
Sorry guy, it's not your night.
-Trevor
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