as i was walking to my friends house, i noticed

as i was walking to my friends house, i noticed that someone was following me. I wanted to turn around but i was scared so i started to run, I ran and ran till i ran out of breath

still he was right behind i finally stopped and faced him and he extended his arm toward me. In his fist his held my bag. He said all he wanted to do was returing my purse so i

told him "thank you" and took the purse. There's a lady at my work who covers her body in purses instead of clothes. I'll give it to her, she's the bosses' daughter and

she makes it work. I guess it's a good thing I work at a strip club. She's actually one of the more conservative dressers there" The silence grew after that. I turned and walked

away before the rebuttal could reach my ears. What I had said wasn't saying much about some cheap, needled whores in a dingy mafia-owned establishment. What a pisser this job was.

So I decided to quit. Bad plan, excedingly bad plan. In my utter disgust at my previous job I had forgotten about the economic ressession and was now stuck in the effective of

and therefore I felt ethically justified to study her. Zelda was a mammoth of a woman, a powerful instructor of nonverbal communication. I learned much from her as she taught me

to eat properly with a knife and fork. Zelda was an expert in formal etiquette since she had once attended her own debutante ball. My studies of Zelda's practiced poise

allowed me to go from down-and-out Cockney flower girl to high-priced escort in under a week. I'm currently writing a self-help book based on my studies: "F**k Goes On the Left."