Accidentally Taking a Prostitute to a Co-Worker’s Wedding.

True Story: I accidentally took a prostitute to my co-worker’s wedding.

The year is ’10 or ’11 and our regional manager was getting married. He only wanted to invite a few of the employees to his wedding. Word got out and everyone who wasn’t invited thought he was slighting them. He felt bad and invited everyone to his wedding and reception, including the temps. Rather than all driving separately to downtown New Orleans and paying $20 per car to park, we teamed up to carpool. I have a big ass SUV and volunteered to drive. The people who lived closest to me were a temp Jasmine, who barely spoke English, and a another dude Earl. We met at the office on the day of the wedding. Earl and I were both dressed in our best Men’s Warehouse suits but Jas had on a trench coat. We looked at each other like she must have a BAD ass dress on under it that she didn’t want anyone to see until we got there! Cool. We totally ignored that she looked like she fell face first into a Sephora counter then tried to wipe her face off with cheap perfume.

We pull into the orthodox Greek church parking lot, park and get out. Earl and I both grab our jackets and while we’re putting on our jackets Jas is taking hers off. It’s time to see this bad ass dress! We think we hear the Greek Jesus gasp when she took her jacket off! She was wearing a leopard print, strapless spandex dress that barely covered the bottom of her ass cheeks, and I mean BARELY! Apparently we overlooked her matching leopard print tall ass stilettos. I look at Earl and say under my breath, “you walking with that bitch if you want a ride back to your car.” I was serious. He said ok. Unfortunately she was glued to me, probably because we had built a bit of a rapport on the drive there. I should’ve known it was a bad idea to ask her about what looked like knife wounds on her neck. Surgery my ass!

The walk from the parking lot to the church door felt like what I would imagine walking the Green Mile felt like. She walked in between Earl and I, closer to me though and every attempt I made to create separation failed. She was like Deon Sanders in his prime! People were stopping to stare, I can only imagine what they were thinking. We walked into the church and all of the talking stopped and everyone was staring! I saw some familiar faces from work and went to sit with them, Jas sat right beside me. It probably looked like she was my +1 to everyone who didn’t work with us. I kept getting text messages left and right from different co-workers who were there asking WTF she had on. I kept replying, “almost nothing!” Jas’ phone was blowing up during the wedding too, she kept sending it to voicemail.

After the wedding we get back in my truck and head over to the reception in the French Quarter. At least Jas would fit in down there. We find the parking lot for the venue, paid damn $20 to park, and get out. We start walking to the building and Jas yells out “I left my bag in the car! I really need it!” I gave her the keys so I didn’t have to walk with her any more, FINALLY some separation!!! Earl looks at me and says “you think you should’ve given her your car keys?” Reality hit and I was like damn, he’s right. I try not to judge but she seemed like the type of person who steals cars, or goes through consoles and glove boxes at a minimum. I stood out front keeping an eye on my truck. We had an old receptionist who was probably in her early 70s, Ms. Mary, who I was shocked to see there. Ms. Mary had no filter whatsoever. As Jas comes walking back with my keys, she’s on the phone talking in Spanish. It sounded like an argument but I couldn’t tell, my Spanish is limited so all Spanish sounds like an argument to me. Jas gets like 10 steps away and Ms. Mary says loudly, “see this is why I stopped coming down here, all of these whores walking around without any clothes on!” Earl whispered to Ms. Mary, “that’s the temp Jas from work.” Ms. Mary said, “I don’t care who it is, she looks like a whore!” We tried not to laugh.

During the reception I tried to stay far away from Jas, even though everyone saw us together at the church and outside of the reception. 20 minutes in she comes up to me and asks if I could walk her to get her jacket out of my truck because her ride was here. I’m thinking what ride? Didn’t we ride together? I’ve been trying to ditch her all damn day and now she’s ditching us? I felt some kind of way for like 2 seconds. I waive Earl over and tell him Jas’ ride was here and she’s leaving us, I wasn’t about to be the last person seen with her. We get outside and there’s a black Cadillac Escalade with limo tint and huge flashy rims blasting what sounded like Pit bull’s music. A Latino dude who looked like every stereotypical Latino dude in every gang movie jumps out of the passenger’s seat and runs up to Jas putting her in an aggressive hug/headlock and walks her to the back seat, pretty much throwing her in. He comes back up to me and asks “where’s her stuff.” I introduce myself, he wasn’t interested in who I was. He asked again where her stuff was. I told him that her jacket was in my truck and pointed toward the parking lot. He says we’ll meet you over there and peels out.

I’m confused as hell now, but I knew this wasn’t a good situation. I’m walking to the truck, texting Ann and Earl who were both inside of the reception telling them what the fuck was happening outside. They refused to come over to the parking lot, Ann came downstairs and watched from right outside of the building. I was on my own. I get to my truck and there are 3 tatted up Latino dudes in wife beaters standing around my truck and all I kept wondering was if my pistol was tucked between my seat or not. My anxiety was so off the chain that I couldn’t remember if I had a gun or not. I hit the unlock, open the driver’s door looked down and saw the handle of my G27 but didn’t touch it. I climbed in, reached in the backseat and grabbed her trench coat then rolled down the window to hand it to one of the dudes. He snatched it, mean mugged me, and jumped in the Escalade along with one of the other guys. The dude who was driving walked up to me and said something to the effect of, “if you ever take one of my bitches out again without paying we’re going to have a problem, do you understand?” I just nodded to say I understood and sat there until they pulled off.

Once they left I had 2 million witty things that I could’ve said that would’ve made matters worse all come to my head at once. Like Snoop’s Doggy Style skit, “nigga yo bitch chose me! We could either handle this like gentlemen or get into some gangsta shit!” I chuckled and went back to the reception and told Ann and Earl that Ms. Mary was right. She was a prostitute as far as I could tell. Not a very good looking one, more like a scratched and dented one, but one nevertheless. Jas never came back to work after that. No one ever saw her again. At least once a year someone at work brings this story up, I’ll forever be the dude that brought a prostitute to our regional manager’s wedding.

The bitch never paid her 1/3 of the parking either.

The End.