The other day some Columbian dude- a friend of a friend- asked me what my new job was.
I told him that I planned on becoming a prostitute. (LAUGHS)
He asked me my going rate and I said £50. (LAUGHS)
I assumed that we were having ALL the laughs until he sidles up to me later, tells me he has £50 and asks if I could meet him in his bedroom in ten.
This is the third time in my life that I have been mistaken for a prostitute.
Maybe the joke's over.
