The day I picked up a prostitute by accident
July 5, 2011 § 5 Comments
It was by accident I promise. I know there are many skeptical people out there who will chose not to believe this. It’s all true, I swear on Speedy’s Towel*. This one time (not at band camp), in Rondebosch Cape Town, my friend and I were on our way to church with two other friends in the car. It was dusk, and with it night things were starting to emerge. We’d happen to pick up one of these night things by accident.
As we drove it started to rain as it tends to during Cape Town winters. After all, if the weather didn’t change it wouldn’t be the weather. And Cape Town wouldn’t be Cape Town without the predictably unpredictable weather.
As the raindrops started trickling down I noticed a lovely young lady along the side of the road and my heart went out to her. After all, it was raining. And it was cold. And she was hot. And just maybe since we were going to church, maybe she needed Jesus too. As the good Christian I was back then, I turned to my friend who was driving and said, “Guys, don’t you think we should give her a lift. It’s raining and she looks like she’s getting cold and it’s getting late.” We were all in a generous mood because it was a Sunday and we were on our way to church. After all, What Would Jesus Do?
There was agreement in the car that we should give her lift. We stopped, I wound down my window and said, “Do you want a ride?” She gave me a slightly puzzled look. Looking back, it all makes sense now. She must have been confused by the library of Bibles in the car and the “ride” we were offering. She looked at the four of us for a bit too long, maybe three seconds before jumped in. She was quiet for a few seconds inside the car. I found it a little strange that she wasn’t telling us where she was going. And so I asked her where she was going in a bid to strike conversation.
“Excuse me?” She said.
“Where are you going,” I repeated.
She was quiet for about a two seconds. I think it was at that point that she realized that she was not going to be part of a kinky adventure with four strangers. Then she said, “I’m working!” My friend pulled over a little too quickly. I had no idea what she meant so I said, “Where do you work?” “I work here,” she said. The car stopped and she got out of the car.
She shut the door. I noticed that my friends were stifling laughter. As soon as we drove off they all laughed. I didn’t. I felt left out. “Guys, what am I missing here?” They continued to laugh. Eventually one of the buggers told me, “She’s a prostitute!” They laughed. “How do you know?” I asked. She said she works here Khaya, they said to me. I have my moments. I can be slow. I also laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed. I laughed last, so I laughed the hardest.
Anyhow, Jesus didn’t mind hanging out with prostitutes either.
*apologies to Speedy’s Towel. This is the last time I say anyhting about it. I promise. Sort of.