HOOKER

GRAMMY: What’s with the get up? You look like a two dollar hooker on a Saturday night. Gonna hang out on the corner with the rest of the girls?

ME: No, Grammy. Jules got me a part in a play he’s producing. It’s just a small part. I don’t say anything. I just stand there and smoke a cigarette.

GRAMMY: Ha! That’ll be the day. Here. Take a drag. You’re gonna need the practice.

ME: I don’t need the practice. The cigarette won’t be lit. You can’t smoke in a public building.

GRAMMY: Don’t I know it. So. You gonna get paid for this acting gig?

ME: No, Grammy. I’m doing Jules a favor. The girl who normally plays the part isn’t feeling well.

GRAMMY: So let me get this straight. You don’t speak, you don’t smoke, and you don’t get paid. Is there anything you do get to do?

ME: Yes. I get to sleep with the producer.

GRAMMY: Oh, now there’s a treat. Sex with an asexual idiot. Lord, some hooker you turned out be. At least a hooker gets paid.

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