The Prowl: The Pervs of D.C.

img class="alignnone size-full wp-image-99289" title="Taxi kiss" src="/files/wxrimport/2011-07/taxi-kiss.jpg" alt="" width="400" height="280" /><

So last week I speculated that some of our firms' clients' various legislative agendas might be better advanced if I were willing to whore myself out .  This week, though, things escalated and I was literally propositioned for sex.  Twice.  Well, sort of ... Let me explain.

My former investment banking friend was in D.C. earlier this week for some sort of investment banking conference. This is not the first time he has been around since he suggested that he would still like to have sex but I probably should find alternate accommodations when I go to New York.  I have since gotten over that, and while not about to continue sleeping with him any time soon, we have managed to remain cordial.  Thus, when he told me he would be in my neighborhood, and by neighborhood I mean the sweltering swamp that is our nation's capital at the moment, I agreed to meet him for dinner.  What else do I have to do on a Wednesday night?

After dinner, he talked me into going back to his hotel and having an after-dinner drink in the bar.  He seemed to understand that having a drink there was not a starting point for future negotiations about seeing the inside of his room, so there didn't seem any harm in going back for just one, right?  Wrong.  In the cab on the way over, after a very awkward pause where he was clearly considering his next move, he leaned over and kissed me.  I was a little too sober for this kind of public display of affection and was fully anticipating the cab driver to maybe "ahem" or do something as a reminder that we were not alone to make it stop.

For full disclosure, while I would of course like to pretend that I am the model of maturity and poise, I wasn't overly anxious to have him get off of me.  I realize this negates basically everything I wrote in my previous paragraph, but I am willing to accept this contradiction.  You probably should too.

Then the driver, rather than coughing or otherwise trying to discourage our PDA, driver instead offered to pay us to watch us have sex right there.  In the cab.  In front of him and anyone who happened to be driving by on the Rock Creek and Potomoc Parkway.  He never provided an exact dollar figure for what he thought the market value ought to be for these services.  We likewise never even pretended to negotiate one (although I suppose I'm curious actually). We politely told him that no, he could just drop us off at the Four Seasons and that would be fine.  Are we sure?  Yes, pretty sure not interested in being live action porn.  And that was that. (And for the pervs left wondering among you, I was a good girl and went straight home after my drink in the hotel lobby.)

The following evening, I was waiting for my former investment banking friend at another bar's happy hour.  He was running very late. A gentleman sat down next to me and told me that I was simply too pretty to be alone.  Trying not to roll my eyes at him in open disdain, as I was genuinely not in the mood for any more old man shenanigans, I just smiled and said I was waiting for someone.  He then took that as an opening to tell me about how he was building up his production company.  Unphased by my clear lack of interest and almost open hostility with my monosyllabic answers and intense focus on my wine glass, he said that I was just what he had been looking for.  How would I like to be on-camera in his new movie?  Oh, by the way, did I mention that it was a film intended for adult viewers/teenage boys? And  how comfortable am I with being paid to have sex on camera?  What he referred to as my "Lolita-like charms" were exactly what he had been looking for.  When once again, I politely declined his offer, and then his subsequent offer to simply let him take my picture (again, they would be tasteful), he tried with asking me to dinner.  No, I did not want to be in your movie or your photographs, so on what universe did he think that I would really be willing to share a meal with him?  Luckily, at that point my time-challenged friend arrived and the situation naturally took care of itself.

Both of these solicitiations were really harmless and actually rather comical, but I am still unnerved by both.  First, the fact that this happened twice in one week is a little unsettling for reasons I cannot fully articulate.  More importantly though, what about me is attracting this kind of attention?  After all, I like to think of myself as an elegant and "classy" lady (most times).  Alternatively, what is wrong with these people that they would actually ask random strangers to do these things in exchange for money?  I suppose there is no real answer except that people are weird and pervy and get off on things that kind of gross me out; they are free to do so but, probably best with someone else.

In the mean time, I may or may not be seeing my investment banker next weekend.  I have not fully decided yet.  Will let you all know when I do ...