There's a catch. There's always a catch. If you're at a party and some hot girl comes up and starts talking to you out of the blue, the guy she's trying to make jealous is across the room. Likewise, if a southern belle in Nashville, Tennessee starts talking to you in a motel parking lot, it could just be typical southern hospitality, but more likely, she's a hooker.

The latter was the case for me last week. A nice dame accosted me without warning. She seemed like any other traveler such as me who merely wanted some good conversation in a shady part of town. A semi attractive woman she was from afar. Had we been closer to each other, I might have noticed her chipped teeth and raging gingivitis. From a safe distance though, it was merely another typical conversation about the weather.

Maybe it was her southern drawl which took my attention away from her less than fully clothed body. Her blond hair glistened in the sun totally removing any focus I may have placed on the fact that it was ratty and had not been cared for since 2002. But when she spoke, it was as if she were the beautiful good witch of the North-Wizard of Oz style.

I thought she was interested in me. I thought she was begging to be taken out to lunch. I thought she would have loved to sit in the crappy motel's rickety chairs discussing current events and the like. It was not to be so on this day however. Turns out my dame was not a traveler like myself. She was a motel rat, living in that Nashville stink hole for the past 15 years. And when I bid her farewell, she bid me a "if you're looking for some entertainment tonight you come knocking on my door." I thought she was referring to going out square dancing, but the only place she wanted to dance with me was in the sack.

She was so pleasant. So joyful. So full of vigor and interest in life, and it was contagious. A real southern girl, a real woman with experience said hi to me. Me! A poor traveling lost soul from New Jersey. She could have seen something in me nary a female before hand had seen. She could have been the one which all my personality traits were meant to be used on. But all she wanted was as much sex as my money could buy.

Damn hookers. There's always a catch.

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