Time on The Block

So I took that walk down to The Block last week and the only unpleasant thing I saw was an old hooker/stripper who convinced me that after a certain age it doesn't matter how medical science enhances you, you can still be too old to be a hooker/stripper.

That was until I saw a scraggly looking guy trying to pick her up. Ew *shudder* Bless they hearts, some men will have sex with anything with a pulse. That is not a bad thing...I think...*shudder* Let me not think too much about that. Almost got a mental picture of them two doing it. *gag*

That means neither me nor my girls can be tricking forever. I got a great bookkeeper and financial advisor. I should be able to retire by 50 from tricking and just be the Head Trick in Charge (HTIC). So I continued kicking the idea around.

So Monday, I took another walk down The Block and I seent...a monochrome pimp. *TweetyBird voice* Yes I did! I did! I did taw a monochrome pimp!

*chuckling*

He was wearing a grey felt bowler hat, grey pinstripe suit, and grey wingtip shoes. I had to duck in a store to catch my breath! Cuz I didn't wanna get pimp slapped for laughing in his face.

Then it would have been me on news at 11 cuz the Project Bytch in me would not have been contained. I know that someone in my family is gonna be the third one of us to make the local news, but I am not trying to have it be me.

That falls into another goal of mine, stay off the Jerry Springer show. *chuckle*

Anyway, walking around on the block reminded me of the job interview I had down there once. No, I did not know I was headed to the The Block for the interview.

Let me explain. The Block, Baltimore's red light district is one city block of tiddy bars/strip clubs and peep shows. That's it. Just one city block. The rest of it is respectable businesses, a hospital and even homes. It is located on Baltimore Street. Nope, I ain't joking. The police station is located in the following block from The Block. *smh* I have no idea whose bright idea it was but there it sits to this very day. It was there before I was born and it may be there after I am dust. There was talk of moving it but then, hey, where would the military go when they roll into town.

No, I ain't joking...I have seent it with my own two little brown eyes. And I was totally shocked when I was younger. But people paid them no mind like it was the most natural thing and after a time so did I.

Anyways, I was looking for a part time evening gig and saw an ad in the paper for a cashier in a book store with a phone number and an address. I never paid any attention to what block numbers The Block resided in and I am so glad I didn't. Otherwise I would have missed out on one of the most entertaining job interviews ever.

I called. Spoke to the manager and made an appointment to come in for an interview. He sounded professional on the phone and responded to me in a professional manner. Not at all what my little narrow mind would have suspected a manager/proprietor of one of The Block's establishments to sound like. If you had ever seen some of the hawkers and patrons on The Block you would totally understand why I would not have expected an air of professionalism from this guy.

So I dress in my interview best navy suit, stockings and medium pumps and unknowingly head on down to The Block.

I get down to Baltimore Street via the metro/subway. Depending on what generation you belong to you'll either call it the subway, its first name. Or the metro, after the city tried to get sophisticated. smh

I walk down the street looking at the street numbers on the building. Hey, I am in the 200 Block when I get off the subway. Cool...so I think.

I walked past many legitimate looking businesses but still no book store. I walk all the way down to the beginning of The Block. I stop at the intersection and look around confused, wondering if I had missed the bookstore.

Then I look in my purse to check the address again. Then I look at the numbers on the buildings on The Block. Sure enough, the peep show/sex emporium facing me across the street is 401 Baltimore Street. I get a sinking feeling as I look opposite 401 and see 400 Baltimore Street is indeed a book store. An adult XXX bookstore/peep show.

I am quite sure my jaw dropped. The manager hadn't said a thing about it being an adult book store, let alone a peep show!

I stood there for a while wondering what to do. This was pre-cell phone mind you. I was raised a very proper southern belle. It would have been rude to just blow off the interview without a phone call and polite excuse. smh

So, I womaned up as best I could. I waited for the traffic lights to change. No jay walking to get to this interview.

I stood before the door in dread. What would I find in there? Who would I find in there? Were there peep shows going on in the front of the store and books in the middle? What had I done to deserve this humiliation?

Then I suddenly realized I was standing on The Block in broad daylight and someone I know might see me standing in front of the peep show/book store.

That got me moving! I forged in without a backward glance!

I walked in and found that at the front of the store it was pretty much like any other book store, except for the naked people on the book/magazine covers, lewd book marks, XXX videos, and sex toys. Other than that, it was pretty much like any other book store you go into. *snicker*

I quickly scanned the store looking for a manager or sales person so I could get this interview over and get out of there quickly. Directly to my right was a counter that had to be raised about 4 feet off the floor. I looked up at the white chick behind the counter and told her I was there for an interview.

She yells toward the back of the store for the manager. I look in the direction she is yelling. There in the back of the store is a curtained off area, green, faded, and old. A 30ish dark haired white guy comes out slowly and walks over to me. Looking around at the few patrons there in the daylight hours he couldn't help but guess the smartly dressed black chick was his applicant.

I looked at the curtains again and then around the store hoping to see a door that led to his office. I wasn't going back behind that curtain no matter how rude it seemed.

The manager had other ideas that had nothing, thank goodness, to do with the curtain. He introduced himself very professionally and shook my hand. You know I didn't want to touch his hand but again, well raised polite southern belle. Besides, I could wash my hands at McDs afterwards.

He motions me to follow him down a side aisle to my relief. I follow, looking around nervously all the time. The few men in the store refused to look at me and the girl behind the counter just looked bored.

Then about halfway down the dildo and vibrator aisle he just stopped. He faced me and started with the interview questions. They were normal at first, did I have a day job, what experience did I have cashiering, what time could I come in. Simple.

Then they turned personal: Where did I live, did I have a car, where would I park, who do I live with, do I have a boyfriend. Strange questions and I answered every one he asked without telling him it wasn't his business.

You know why? Cuz every voice in my head including the Project Bytch was screaming with laughter. Remember I said we stopped in the dildo/vibrator aisle. Well, directly over the manager's shoulder was a dildo shaped like the president current for that year. President William Jefferson Clinton!

He's asking me questions and I am answering with I imagine a blank stare. Cuz in my head were all kinds of questions. Like does Bill know? Does Bill endorse this? Does Hilary know? Does Hil have one? Did Bill use one on Monica? Do they get a cut of the profits?

Oh the questions! And the questions were threatening me with the giggles at any moment.

The interview ended and I left. I don't remember what I did beyond finding someplace to sit down and laugh afterwards. I imagine people probably looked at me strangely but that day I put propriety aside and laughed and laughed and laughed.

I didn't take the job and not because I thought it beneath me. I suddenly saw that this might actually be fun and it would definitely give me some giggles. The problem was the manager. He wanted me to take off a couple days from my day job to work days so he could watch me. Watch me do what? That coupled with the personal questions he asked put me off the job.

I got the feeling they wanted me to do more than just bag purchases and take people's money. Every few months or so I would see the ad back in the paper for the exact same address and phone number and laugh quietly to myself.