I Lead a Sheltered Life

There’s a first time for everything, I suppose.

So I’m coming back to the office from a departmental boat trip last night around 11:15 or so, along with Adam and Dave, a couple of coworkers. (Yeah, the younger crowd is still partying over in Georgetown, but we suburbanites have to make the trek out into the boonies, so we’re calling it a night.) As we approach our building along M Street, we notice a young woman approaching from the opposite direction. Thin, blonde, and wearing a matching green skirt and numbered jersey. “Heh, the cheerleaders are out,” Adam comments, but we don’t think too much of it — an unusual choice for evening attire, but not out of the realm of possibility.

Suddenly, as we cross paths, she stops and puts on the biggest smile and faux-sweet act: “Heeeey, guys, where are you headed?”

It hits us all at once — she’s a pro.

Stunned into silence for a moment (after all, this is the middle of M Street on a “school night”), my mind goes blank. Fortunately, Dave keeps his wits and just says, “Back to the office; right there,” and we move along.

No, it’s not a big deal by any stretch of the imagination, but it occurs to me that after working in this city for more than a decade, I’ve never been propositioned before. For something that, distasteful though it may be, I would have assumed to be part of city life, I’m honestly surprised.