#5 - The obese, Rascal® riding, trannie hooker who services "clients" in front of our house.
Unfortunately, I don't have a photograph to accompany this post. Not that I could (or should) use it if I did. And the truth is, I've never witnessed this act for myself. But the neighbor across the street says he's seen it in progress and why would he make up something like that?
I don't want to be judgemental - not about her poufy wig that's too blond for her skin tones - not about her overly collagen injected lips that are too poufy for her face - and not about any other surgically enhanced body part that is too poufy to be found in Nature.
On second thought, maybe I am a little judgemental about the lips.
I am definitely concerned about her poor little Yorkshire terrier that I regularly see running alongside, barely keeping up with her as she motors up our hilly street on her pink (yes, pink) Rascal ®.
But I'm not judgemental about her vocation. We haven't all had the same advantages. And those lips have to be reinjected every few months.
Yet, must she practice her trade in front of my house? I don't know how many times this has actually happened, but once is really too often for me. The high retaining walls that flank the steps from the sidewalk as well as the HUGE ficus tree on the parkway offer a safe harbor of privacy for all kinds of unsavory activity. A pack of teenage girls using my front steps as a dark, private spot share a j? Sure! Why not? Except, being teenagers they didn't have the discretion to wait until the middle of the night as did our more mature transgendered friend. I discovered the girls as I came home from work at about 8:00 pm. But it was clear from their surly reaction to my appearance they didn't seem to care what time it was. And since it only happened that once, I'm not going to get worked up over some kids looking for a place to "experiment."
But while I'm not making moral judgments about our local mobility impaired prostitute, I don't want her workin' it in front of my house. NIMFY!
But what are you going to do? Maybe it was a one-time thing. Maybe she's not really a pro after all. Maybe it was a favor for a friend.
Maybe things could be worse.
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