Last night, I went to grab a casual bite to eat with two guys I’ve been friends with for years now.
One girl. Two guys. Lookin’ like a baller, right? Apparently not.
The scene: California Pita on Beverly Dr. 7:30pm. Outdoor table. Friend A sitting to my left, Friend B directly across from him.
We are mid-convo when a woman walks past our table. As she patters by, she bends down slightly and reaches in, placing something next to my carefully self-assembled table setting.She gives it the ol’ tap/slide, and murmurs knowing-slash-confiding-ly, “This is for you.”
I pause. Seriously? Of course.
Looking down, I expect to see the oft-received-in-my-life psychic ad, fluttering alongside my precautionary stack of napkins. (You never know what’s going to happen when that tangy yogurt sauce is around…)
What’s it going to be this time? Tarot cards? Palm Reading? The color of my aura?
…
It was none of those things.
Yup. An advertisement for a novel entitled, Too Old to be a Hooker, Too Young to be a Madam. According to the card, it is a story of ‘champagne decadence, dangerous liaisons, fame, bisexuality and betrayal in the Hollywood Hills colliding with a lusty Jewish American Princess from Beverly Hills in Laurel Canyon’. Breath.
Friend B’s token of reassurance? “You’re never too old to be a hooker.”
Duly noted.