“You’re talking all crazy,” George told me this morning handing me a twenty dollar bill. “You need to be gettin’ laid. You be getting backed up.”
I smiled at this turn of events. I was delirious from my lack of sleep last night though.
“Go to the shot house. Ask for Dontelle and tell her George sent you. She will fix you up.”
“$20 bucks is all a whore costs?” I asked astonished.
“$20 bucks for a crack whore,” George replied. “Twenty bucks is a good high.”
“What about sexually transmitted diseases?” I asked, concerned.
George reached into his front pocket to pull out a string of four condoms. He tore one off and handed it to me.
George got out of my car and walked to his mother’s house. I drove home and thought, “There is no way in hell I am getting in bed with a whore.” My social anxieties just went crazy thinking about it. The mere idea of sloppy sex with a stranger repulsed me. I decided to use that $20 dollars on Mountain Dews and some Swisher Sweets cigars. George will just have to understand when I talk to him tonight.