nyc Why does everyone hate my stories < - > 2006-11-09 07:39:26
It was getting cold out and all I had to wear was a lightweight jacket from the Salvation Army ($1.50)not much good walking to work in the early NYC winter winds at 4:00 am. On my way home from the job I would see overfed families fro New Jersey and Conneticuit rushing along to catch there early dinner reservations clutching gifts for there xmas trees covered with fake spray can snow. I was determined to make a go of it in the city and become a successful peepshow cleanup man but it was a tough industry to break into.And the only work I could find was in an all night enema parlour downtown where I got paid by the job not the hour and being new I had no clientelle. So I would trudge home after a gruelling 12 hour shift with the stench of enema clingining to my hair and clothes. One cold wet day as I trudged mournfuly along with hate in my heart and feces on my sleeve A delighful mishap changed my life a typical transvestite streetwalker was in the process of beating down a Hasidic man who had apparently tried to skate without paying for a slurp session . The muscular and nubile young tranny had no problem trouncing the Hasid and rob him of every dime he had as I looked on in delight. When she was finished she wiped her blood stained fake nails on her boa and flashed me a tender smile and asked if I would like to get in out of the cold for a few minutes? Of course I did and we ducked into a nearby pub leaving the bloodied penguinish man to bleed to death in the street. That was the 1st time I ever tasted the majestic brew known as Pabst Blue Ribbon and from that moment on I never looked back and now have 12 trannies in my stable of whores and a new coat and drink PBR all day and collect money from AIDS infected street hustlers. Thanks PBR.