Springboard #11
Most interesting/memorable/horrible/etc experience with your partner/team/client.etc.
So I was working a corner out in Washington Heights one night. Because the New York FBI office didn't know what to do with me, they used to loan me out to Vice every once in a while. Plus, I'm was the only girl they knew who could actually run in hooker heels without killing myself -- which is a miracle in and of itself. Regardless, that was not the point. I was in Washington Heights.
Now, I love the Heights. There's so much culture and fun out there -- not that all the boroughs don't have that, but out there it's fun. Anyway, I'm not me, I'm Princess, and Princess don't have issues talkin' to nobody, aye Papí? It was a light night, so I was having fun with it, really getting into the character. I was probably hitting on every man that headed down that corner, and while most of them would kind of blush and walk away, a few of them would flirt back, and just have fun with it.
Then again, most of the ones who would flirt back were the ones I was doing the sting with, so -- that was typical. And they hit on me whenever I was around them, not only when I was in character, but this is one of the few moments where I would actually flirt back.
Anyway, there were a couple other girls on the corner, and we had got to chatting about different things, when an unmarked car pulled up to the curb. All the other girls are busy, so I sauntered my way over, letting him roll down the window as I leaned over and started to do my thing. When I looked up and saw who it was, though, I got quite the shock.
It was my boss from the bureau.
My married boss from the bureau.
And he wasn't exactly undercover.
Anyway, we parted ways, and the next time I was in the office he pulled me to the side and swore up and down that he didn't do that at all, it was his first time, and that he really did love his wife -- I really could have cared less. I wasn't about to tell anyone that I ran into my boss while I was in a the skimpiest outfit humanly possible, and he saw more of me than I ever wanted him to.
Although this probably counts as telling someone.
...Oh, well -- I didn't use any names.
So I was working a corner out in Washington Heights one night. Because the New York FBI office didn't know what to do with me, they used to loan me out to Vice every once in a while. Plus, I'm was the only girl they knew who could actually run in hooker heels without killing myself -- which is a miracle in and of itself. Regardless, that was not the point. I was in Washington Heights.
Now, I love the Heights. There's so much culture and fun out there -- not that all the boroughs don't have that, but out there it's fun. Anyway, I'm not me, I'm Princess, and Princess don't have issues talkin' to nobody, aye Papí? It was a light night, so I was having fun with it, really getting into the character. I was probably hitting on every man that headed down that corner, and while most of them would kind of blush and walk away, a few of them would flirt back, and just have fun with it.
Then again, most of the ones who would flirt back were the ones I was doing the sting with, so -- that was typical. And they hit on me whenever I was around them, not only when I was in character, but this is one of the few moments where I would actually flirt back.
Anyway, there were a couple other girls on the corner, and we had got to chatting about different things, when an unmarked car pulled up to the curb. All the other girls are busy, so I sauntered my way over, letting him roll down the window as I leaned over and started to do my thing. When I looked up and saw who it was, though, I got quite the shock.
It was my boss from the bureau.
My married boss from the bureau.
And he wasn't exactly undercover.
Anyway, we parted ways, and the next time I was in the office he pulled me to the side and swore up and down that he didn't do that at all, it was his first time, and that he really did love his wife -- I really could have cared less. I wasn't about to tell anyone that I ran into my boss while I was in a the skimpiest outfit humanly possible, and he saw more of me than I ever wanted him to.
Although this probably counts as telling someone.
...Oh, well -- I didn't use any names.