The Whore's Choice

At dusk, at the end of a long day, FuelMix was hanging out to dry on a park bench in the middle of Very Rich Megacity. The song of the crickets was surging and ebbing, the warm breeze was wafting through the trees.

The huge urban park, is to some extent a faggy location, although it doesn’t figure prominently in the fag guidebooks. 

While FuelMix was chilling, he became aware of a nondescript middle aged dude lurking nearby. The gaydar went on, and looking around, FuelMix realized he was the only one in the vicinity – which explains why the middle aged fag had his hands in his pocket, rubbing and squeezing something. 

FuelMix sighed. He really was not in the mood for a proposition, but middle aged fag was moving closer – and fast. 

Middle aged fag arrived at FuelMix’s bench and cut to the chase: he was looking for a hustler and was prepared to pay good money. FuelMix smirked. It wasn’t the first time he’d been offered cash. Sitting in his custom made suit and J.M. Weston shoes, FuelMix apparently looked like the epitome of hustler elegance. 

FuelMix politely declined the offer, smiled and turned away. But middle age fag was persistent claiming that cash alone was sufficient for a deal and that FuelMix should immediately come to his hotel room where 50% would be paid immediately and the rest, with a hefty tip, after the deed. 

FuelMix felt his temper rising at the audacity and stupidity of middle aged fag’s failure to take “No” for an answer the first time around. So turning to the idiot, FuelMix asked 2 questions:

1. What makes you think I’m a hustler?
2. What makes you think I’m interested in you?

Fag’s response was that FuelMix was the only one there and that he “looked like one”. Fag then increased his offer of monetary compensation by 20%, quoted the name of a nearby 5 star hotel and took out the electronic key card as proof that he was kosher. 

FuelMix replied by stating he was already familiar with the beds in that hotel and reiterated his refusal to accept fag’s offer. Fag increased the offer by 10%. 

FuelMix declined again, got up and walked away. Fag muttered abuse, calling FuelMix a whore who couldn’t deliver. 

“Interesting”, thought FuelMix, “I would have respected him more if he’d called me a whore who wouldn’t deliver”.

Originally published 8 July 2007.  Amended and republished 25 October 2011