Posted May 16, 2010 in All Things Sex | 0 Comments

Pimped Out?

To think my one night stand was a road paved with a simple misunderstanding bolted with truly good and honest intentions… My original plan was to meet up with my crew at the club, but on the way there, I had slipped into the nearby strip club to check up Nathan, a bartender friend of mine. Nathan was busy.  Serving up the thirsty clients, he quickly introduced me to his friend Mike that was hanging out at the bar. Mike and I chatted over a few quick rounds while occasionally being distracted by some dancer trying to earn their cab fare home, all the while watching Nathan scurry back and forth.

“Where you off to?!” Nathan asked me between his customers.
“They’re playing hip-hop down the street,” I revealed,  “meeting the gang there.”
“Take him with you!” Nathan blurted out pointing to Mike.
With a ‘friend of Nathan’s is a friend of min’ attitude, I grinned at Mike.
“You up for an adventure?”
“Sure.” Mike answered with slight hesitation…and we were off to the club!

Not only was I determined to make sure Mike have a great time, I knew I was hosting my friend’s friend while he was busy at work.

“So what’s the mission: dancing, drinking, cruising,?”
“Can’t we do all three?”
“Sure.

Introduced him to the crew, took care of the drinks, presented him to the DJ. Mike was so taken aback by everyone’s welcoming attitude. He kept thanking us for keeping an eye on him.

“So what’s your type?”

And he gave me the stare. Oh oh. Needlessly to say (and after building a quite the level of liquid courage) we ended up back at his hotel at the end of the night. It wasn’t until the next morning that I realized what had really happened.

“Are we going for brunch?” I jokingly asked.
“No…” he voice trailed as he looked at me dumbfounded “I thought…”

He had his wallet open.
Finally it hit me.
I did make one mistake that night.
I had failed to ask the cliched question everyone asks when they meet some someone new through a mutual association:

“How do you know so and so?”

When I did however, I only then found out that Mike was not a friend of Nathan’s – he was just some a patron at the stripclub – I confirmed the ideation that ran through my thoughts. He thought I was a one of the strippers gone professional. After an awkward, yet humorous goodbye, I darted out. Only to catch the quizzical gazes of the lobby staff. I knew they thought I was an escort. And even my cab driver arched his eyebrow when I ask him to take me home… from a hotel. He thought I was a whore as his eyes flashed in judgment in the rear view mirror. Meanwhile I thought I was nothing but a good Samaritan.

Hold on…Did Nathan just pimp me out?

Holla at your M.A.T.

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