I Ain't a Ho!
Well, I was walking down the street in Verdun when a beat-up Volvo pulled up next to me. It was a man in late middle age, with no hair on his head, plenty on his arms, and a belly that was getting squished by the steering wheel. "Where are you going?" he asked.
"What?" I responded.
"Where are you going? I'll give you a ride. Are you going to Hamra?" I said no. "Well, come on," he continued, "Where are you going? I'll give you a ride. No charge. Get in." He was waving me in, with an offputting grin on his face. I said no and continued walking. A security guard and some guys standing in front of Verdun 732 were laughing at our conversation.
Fifteen minutes later, I was almost at the Senayah Park, when the car pulled up again. "How much?" he barked at me. I looked at him. "How much?" he repeated. I gave him a blank stare. He waved at me in angry dismissal and drove on.
Now, I admit I may have looked gay, but gay does not equal prostitute! I don't know whether to feel insulted that he thought I'd have sex for money, or flattered that he wanted to have sex with me.
Judging by the way he looked, though, I'm willing to bet he'd have sex with just about anyone.