A Thirty-Something Life: Street Walker?

View of the street from my apartment

A few days before Christmas one of my friends offered to come pick me up for a trip to the SAQ. He told me he'd be at my place in ten minutes. I went downstairs and waited for him on the sidewalk. It was about 8pm, and the temperature was below freezing, so I was pacing back and forth in my leather jacket, jeans and purse. 

About five minutes later, a minivan pulled up. I turned around at the sound of the car and started walking toward it, thinking it was my friend who was maybe driving his father's car. 

When I got to about a meter and a half away from the car, I leaned forward to see who the driver was. It was a man in his 50s, approximately 250 pounds, with a beard. He had swarthy skin and looked to be from Eastern Europe or perhaps the Middle East. He waved and I straightened up. "Of course he'd wave", I thought, "I was peering into his car." I continued to pace, getting increasingly cold in the night-time air. 

The car was still idling at the side of the street a minute later. 

I thought, "He must be waiting for someone. Maybe from one of the other apartment buildings." 

Another minute passed by and the man finally pulled away, passenger-less. And then it hit me.

"Wait."

"Wait a minute! Did HE think I was on the job?!!!! "

OH MY GOD! 

Now, I know that I live in the ghetto, but....really?!!!! Have I now been relegated to street walker status?

And then I remembered the woman who used to live below me. Apparently several different men had been seen entering and leaving her apartment. But I had had no proof of this and promptly forgot about it. 

Until that night.

So yes, ladies and gentlemen. I have now graduated to a new title, according to middle-aged men driving along St. Jacques at night. 

I sometimes surprise myself with my naivete. 

Life is never boring, is it? :)