An Interesting Encounter

Possibly mature content ahead. So I met an interesting person last night. She came wobbling up onto our porch, completely strung out. She told us she used to buy weed at the house (before we lived there) and wanted to get some more. She had on ridiculously high heels and wasn’t sure who we were, but she looked exhausted.

So of course I invited her in. We sat down and I gave her the things she needed. She was so happy to have met us. It was hard to get her story out of her because she was completely out of her mind, but basically she grew up in McLean, VA (that’s like the Bellevue of DC, for my Seattle readers) in “a good family” (she said this several times) and left for DC at fourteen. Since then she’s turned tricks and stripped and taken online college classes.

I told her that was great (the classes, not the tricks) and that I had confidence in her ability to get a degree.

Then she grabbed my skirts and offered to blow me.

“I’m actually good,” I said.

She came out on the porch with the rest of the housemates and was like, “You don’t know how glad I am to have met some white, middle-class----“

My expression stopped that sentence in its tracks. After that I decided she had to go. So a house friend and I walked her to 14th St, where we hailed her a taxi and sent her home.

Taxi driver, I’m sorry.

But you wanna know what the weirdest thing about this encounter is?

I think I’ve met her before!

I wrote about it here, at the end of the post. Three winters ago, I was waiting in a restaurant for some Indian takeout. This woman came in and after rudely ascertaining that I liked the ladies, started grabbing at my scarf like she wanted to make out with me. She made all kinds of ruckus until the manager came and kicked her out, upon which we discovered that she had been there for a job interview.

Oops.

If it was her, she’s actually improved a lot since then.