Six Bucks and a Protein Bar

A few Sundays ago found me with a terrible sinus headache and the last remnants of some codeine/antihistamine that I was prescribed for just such occasions. Considering my own constitution and the relatively benign mixture in my system, driving was still on the table and I set out to go for a brief jog after the throbbing in my head and neck subsided. The YMCA where I work out is on a desolate stretch of road where speeding could only be expected due equally to the flat straight roadway and any normal person's desire to quickly get the fuck out of said locale. It is certainly sketchy but more than anything,  bogue and dreary. Describing it as the kind of place a meth lab is housed would have been perfect.

If only I had thought of that description prior...

With foot on gas and eyes on radio, I'm startled from my codeine fueled warmth by someone yelling. I look up to see a woman standing in the road. I narrowly miss killing her and am still bewildered and a little shaky from the adrenaline when she motions for me to roll down the window.

"I need a ride. I ran out of gas. Can you take me to a gas station?"
" See that car right there..."
(enter nondescript red Saturn)
" Um it's mine."
Looking back, it was almost a question more than a statement of fact.

I have to assume it was the distraction of nearly killing another person and possibly the codeine that made me think this was OK to let this person in my car. The realization became very clear as to what I had done when she spied a piece of orange candy on my seat and exclaimed with way too much enthusiasm
"OH FUCK! CAN I HAVE THAT?!"
"Sure" I reply as that "Meth Lab" assessment I mentioned becomes crystal clear.
 Her next question tied it all together:

"Are you married?"
I have picked up a prostitute.
She is tweeking on Meth
I am galacticly fucking stupid.
"yes..happily"
"I'm not married at all"
"Well we've got that cleared up"

What do you say at this point? I'm in a conversation unlike any I have ever had, which,for me, is not a statement to be taken lightly. I've had a lot of shit happen to me. It has has often been simultaneously bizarre, random, painful,tragic, and hilarious. I reasoned that they have prepared me with a kind of quick thinking calm when many I know would have no idea how to deal. In short, the next moments of my conversation with this hooker were proceeded by years of training for this very moment.

"What do you do?" she asks
seeing an opportunity to regain the upper hand, I tell her
"I'm a cop."
"Um, Do You know me?"
"Should I know you?"
And God, or this skank, or whoever throws me another curveball and dare I say, I am up to the challenge
"You ever shot anyone?"
"twice," I reply without skipping a beat
"YOU'VE SHOT TWO PEOPLE?!"
I am clearly in the lead
"yeah, you know..part of the job"
"WELL DID YOU..."
"You know, I don't like to talk about it"
For a tense moment for both of us, my lie hung in the air and then it became evident as she stared silently ahead.
I have won
It is now apparent to me that this person doesn't want to be in this car anymore than I want her there.
"Hey, do you have a cell phone because I could just call this friend of mine and..."
"I'll tell you what. I got six bucks in my wallet. You get the fuck out of my car and its yours."
"OK"
As she is getting out spies a Special K protein bar:
"Can I have that?"
"Knock yourself out"
I replayed the events in my mind for the drive home so I knew to get the story correct.

When told by her husband that he "might have accidentally given a ride to a hitchhiking prostitute in our car," my wife's reaction was both salient and reasonable.
 "I can't believe I have to tell you this but don't pick up hitchhikers"

I could not deny the fairness of this request.

My favorite reaction came from my friend Drew in the form of a text. Drew is my favorite person to tell these stories because the reaction always pays off. He's like a slot machine with nothing but 7's.
 I start with a text
"I have a story in which I pick up a prostitute and impersonate a police officer. You probably should call me."

Drew's reaction does not disappoint but actually exceeds beyond my imagination. My mind's eye could see perfectly the red-faced, teary-eyed hysterics are great but his best effort comes in the form of his own simple and yet indefensible text 3 hours after I relay the story
"So to summarize: You paid a hooker six bucks to eat a protein bar"

Yes,I guess I did