Hooker in a hurry, Cass Corridor

The worst part about spending a lot of time in sketchy places is having to deal with hookers. I always find myself lying to hookers, just because I don't want to be mean. So hookers, pay attention: when I shrug my shoulders and give you the "don't approach" jazz hands what I really am thinking is, "Oh my God you are way too old to be a hooker and this is so sad and you're probably somebody's mom so please go away." When I say, "No thank you," or "Not today," what I'm really thinking is that there's no way on God's green earth that I'm ever going to even imagine paying for sex with you or with anyone else. That's just gross. When I say, "I'm Dutch, I wouldn't pay Megan Fox a nickel for a blowjob," I'm just trying not to hurt your feelings, because in reality, you scare me. A lot. And when you make that creepy kissy face at a stoplight and I point to my kids in the back seat, with the "sorry" face and upturned hands through the window, I'm just trying not to be rude.

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