My job offer.
I was visiting my boyfriend in Westchester County, and I needed to go into the city to renew my passport. I boarded the train early and arrived at Penn Station. From there I proceeded to the Mexican Consulate. I kept on walking for a few blocks when this strange lady came up to me and asked in a dissembling way: “Miss, are you looking for a job?” It seemed incredible to me that a job could so easily be had here and I replied: “No, thanks, but I don’t need one right now now. Maybe in the summer.” My answer disconcerted her although the look she gave me confused me even more. I kept on walking and took the next train back to Westchester.
There, in company of my boyfriend and a few of his buddies, I recounted my adventure. They roared with laughter and one of them inquired: “Did you asked that woman what kind of job she was offering you? ?” “No, because I’m not interested in working at the moment.” “Well, that job was for a prostitute.” I became so angry that I could have returned to the city right then and there to find that woman and demand how in the world she could have took me for a prostitute.
Now I laugh at my own ingenuousness.