I was propositioned by a crack whore today.

There’s a corner up the street from our office where I’m reasonably certain I saw a crack deal go down a few weeks ago.  I can’t say for certain that’s what it was, but it certainly appeared to be the case: the partially concealed handing of something small from one man  to another, followed by a furtive hand shoved into a filthy pocket and a brisk walk away.  Plenty of crackheads in Belltown.

I and some coworkers were walking up the street on this same corner.  A woman sat stretched across the knee-height cinder block retaining wall.  As we crossed to her side of the street, she looked me directly in the eyes and smacked her lips three times with a loud popping sound, opening her mouth wide each time.

That’s… that’s not what I was think it was.  Right?  I mean, after Friday’s weirdness, the odds of additional weirdness so soon are really, really low.  And really, that’s her sales pitch?  Does that actually work?

I continued pondering this just long enough for my coworkers to start laughing.