0318 - A lousy hooker. - 2023.11.06



It's always a weird compliment, being told that you'd be good at doing a thing that you have no intention of doing.

Do you think you'd make a good sex worker? Do you think you'd make a good politician? Do you think you'd make a good small business owner? Do you think you'd make a good assassin? Do you think you'd make a good pet groomer?

As an artist who makes a good chunk of his money from erotic material (most of it customized to my clients' specifications), I do consider myself to be a type of sex worker, and, quite frankly, yes, I think I'd be good at doing the traditional sort as well. I think I'd also be quite good as an actor, as a fortune teller, as a teacher, as a standup comic, or as a cult leader. I'd make a mediocre pet groomer, a dangerously unsafe construction worker, a lousy middle manager, a terrible politician, a useless bouncer, an incompetent architect, a horrendous soldier, and a pretty decent professional assassin.


0318 – 2167/07/07/09:16 - sidewalk
CP: I... wh-… Lee, are you…?
Zoa: Oh, Lee’s just sensy ‘cause I told’em last night that they’d make a lousy hooker.
Zoa: Which I’m willing to admit I was wrong about, because as soon as they offered an act of physical affection in exchange for creds, a potential client jumped right on it.
LC: I… hnngh… that’s… ah… that’s not exactly what happened, Zoa.
Zoa: I know. I was paraphrasing. I figured I could do that because we’re all already familiar with how it went down.
CP: “Paraphrasing” is… communication.
Zoa: And the events in question were limited to communication, yes. I don’t believe you two ever actually hugged for point-seven millicreds per second.
CP: I… I wouldn’t have…
CP: I mean, I was just checking up on. On you. Not… not in a creepy way.
LC: It’s fine. I… I know. We’re good, Caleb. We’re cool.
CP: G-good. Sorry.
LC: S’okay.
CP: And you are… I mean, I’d p-pay… I mean… I think you can… you’d be good at doing what you want to do. If… if you want to do it.
CP: Not that I... uh… yeah.
LC: Thanks. That’s… I mean, I get it. It’s not likely to ever be… uh… a thing, but you’d be the… uh… yeah.
Zoa: Pro-tip, Caleb: left nostril.