Hoors? Yeah... Hoors. Prostitutes, Tarts, Hookers, Ladies of Negotiable Affection, call them what you will. For 8 years or so I lived in granite tenement. My Neighbours Were Hoors. Sadly for us all (!?) the brothel was closed down and I moved out of the area. I never did get around to writing about the court case though...

Thursday, June 10, 2004


Usually, when I come home from work and park my car across the street and there is someone standing perusing the buzzers, I sit in my car and wait til they go in or give up and go away. Sometimes they stay there a LONG time. A Long Long time. And so I give up and stomp into the building past them.

This one time though. I wasn't in the mood for hanging around at all and when I saw two guys hanging around outside the tenement with clipboards browsing the buzzers I just decided to park my car and stomp past them. This I did. I didn't want to think of this particular Punter/Hoor/Punter/Clipboard fetish for any longer than I had to. However... They were in the way.

"Excuse me," said a beaming, smartly dressed American.
"Yes?" says I.
"We're trying to get someone to answer a buzzer in this here block of flats" says the other. Also beaming and smartly dressed.
"Yes?" says I.
"Do you live here?" asks no 1.
"Yeeessss?" says I.
"What about these other here buzzers?" asks no 2.
"Ummm. Well... This one is offshore..." I point to the buzzers, "This one is empty... This one does night shift... This one will still be at work... This one is also empty... This one is me... This guy I don't know... And this one here... ummm. I don't know about."
"Ah well!" enthuses no 1. "We're from The Church of the Latter Day Saints..."
"Ah!" says I. The beaming-ness and the smart dress... And the aura of good-ness. I can tell you all about Mormon Missionaries. In fact... That is a WHOLE different blog! Perhaps I'll get around to it later.

Anyway. I continue, politely: "I'm afraid I'm already following my own religion.... Although! I do respect what you folks do and how you're fighting the good fight and all that, I'm afraid I'm not up for converting"

"Well! Thanks for being so straight with us ma'am! It sure is appreciated, he beams"
We shake hands and I put my key towards the lock.

"Ah... before you go... is there anyone else here you think may be in need of some salvation?"

Me (pausing with a key half way into the lock): *evil soap opera grin*

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