“It’s a weird name, I know,” I said after a brief moment.
“No, not at all! Unique.”
“You know what, I appreciate that. Would you like to come in?”
I had asked that to every escort, and always felt stupid after saying it, but the responses made me happy. They were there to do a job, there is no doubt about that. But asking
the question was a cute little game. And honestly, maybe it wasn’t a game, because if they actually said, “you know what, no. I don’t,” and walked away, I sure as hell wouldn’t try to stop them. Maybe they saw that. Maybe Karly saw that too.
“Sure,” she said, wryly, “why not?”
“You look fantastic,” I said as I closed the door, which, by the way, is always the creepiest part of the interaction.
“Do I?” she responded. “Well, I got dolled up for you.”
“Awesome,” I replied after a moment, making it abundantly clear that my cleverness did indeed know some bounds. It also forced her to suppress a genuine smile at my expense.
“Do you want a drink?” I continued.
She walked across the room and examined it with absentminded attention.
“Sure,” she said. “I have to catch up.” Then she grinned at me knowingly, a more practiced and occupational kind of smile. Either way, I couldn’t help but smile in return, 100% looking like an idiot while doing it.
Nick Denardi 