She’s a prostitute I met here in Covington in the spring. We became friends—well, sort of—then she wanted to give me a discount on her services which made me feel strange and ever since then, our relationship has become a little awkward.
I still see Melissa sometimes. Last week, I was taking a walk on Pike Street and saw her on the other side of the street. I waved. Maybe she didn’t see me. Maybe she had her eye on a ‘John’ up ahead.
Last night, I found myself in Walgreens yet again buying some paper towels. When I came out of the store, there was Melissa sitting on one of the bus benches. She smiled at me and wanted to know if I had an extra cigarette. I told her I left my smokes at home which was the truth.
She immediately got up from the bus bench. I was walking to my right—Melissa turned left. She seemed a bit pissed.
Nothing stays the same. As I’ve said before, I don’t know her and she doesn’t know me. It is what it is and it’s probably best to leave things the way they are, but I can’t say I don’t feel sad about it.
(Photo from accountantslike.com)