Paint Me Dead in a Gutter

So there I was, absoLUTely minding my own business, and this guy, probably 40's drifts over and we strike up a conversation. He asks me about possible good places to go at night, and I tell him one that I thought he might like, after my assessment of him, incidentally MY favorite place.

Tip from Redgirl #1

Never, and I mean never give out the name of your place to go out the same night as you might want to go out. Otherwise you might (a) meet them there unintentionally or (b) if you tell them you aren't going out and you go, they might see you (awk--ward)

So we're chatting, and he makes a comment about me looking tired, and I throw out my crazy schedule (getting up at 7am, working straight 'till 11pm, home around 12/1ish). I add in the comment about always having to go straight home to get the most sleep possible. Then I say

"So what are YOUR plans for the evening?"

(him) "Well, none...since you're not out"

Then, he notices the book I was reading and we start to talk about different literary authors. I had seen where he was heading with that, but I was infinity curious to see where the conversation would go.

Tip from Redgirl #2

Rather, advice from my co-worker that I shall now pass on to you. "Redgirl, you've got to stop extending the conversation. One day, it's going to get you in trouble" This is true. Sometimes, you've got to know when to stop--don't let curiousity get the better of you...unless, that is, you're ME, chasing a possible juicy story :>)

Finally, he says "Have you ever been a model?"

Me : (very matter-of-factly) "Nope, though my mother and I took a drawing class together, where everyone sketched the class. I enjoyed drawing hands" (ha...and may hap we've nipped THAT in the keester!)

Him: "I'm surprised...you have the qualities in a figure that artists like to draw" (.....or not)

Me: "Hmm...that's interesting" (in a creepy sort of way!)

Him: "I was wondering...well, I don't know if you're allowed..." (insert about minute long nattering about the basic sum-up of: "Would you be able to pose for me?"

Me: (urp??) "You're right, the hotel wouldn't like it...sorry"

Tip From Redgirl #3

When dashing a creepo's (or any one's for that matter) hopes and dreams, find a way to agree with part of a statement they made to cite in your refusal. It makes it easier when they stab themselves in the foot like our friend here.

Him: "Or, just a quick portrait, like only 10 minutes...we wouldn't have to do it in my room if that's the problem"

Now imagine about 5 more minutes of him trying to convince me. During this time, *I* am inserting comments like "I don't think that would work", "Yeah, they wouldn't like that", and "uh huh, it's too bad". Just like when people are talking to you and you really aren't listening, so you use fillers like "uh huh...mmm....really?....aah.....you don't say!" and etc.

Tip from Redgirl #4

Don't go with strange men who promise they can make you famous if you just come for a little photo shoot in their "studio". I know my dude was an artist, but I'm going to extrapolate. He didn't really have the "sleazy photographer vibe", but the "draw you" line? Plz.

So...he kinda wound down, gave me his website to check, wedding ring flashing in our chandelier lighting, wishing that he would be staying longer than one day. (he would have to do all the wishing on that one). The website was....interesting...to say the least. Yes, of course I went! You should know me by now...

I'm sure there are thousands of women who are made lucratively famous by grease-slicked agents they meet in train stations fresh from the farm, but we only ever hear about the ones that end up raped and bleeding their jugular vein into a grimy gutter. Why take the chance?