I got mistaken for a hooker

Yep, the title is right. And to think I wasn't even wearing my thigh high leather boots.

Lemme give you the dirt. I was a tad cranky because I wasn't able to see Lion King with Maegan and Janiel this weekend. The past few days have been filled with redunkulous demands. So, instead of stressing I found a way to bargain with my bestie, Jameses. I would deliver his four large boxes of hair products to a salon downtown, if he would go to the bank for me and take some money out of my account. I needed some dough for a serious shop-a-thon.

After our errands, we'd meet up up at the sushi bar for grub. So, after nearly falling flat on my face while walking up ten flights of stairs in my bold buckled stiletto-heeled booties. And getting stuck in traffic. Not to mention accidentally flashing the bloke in the car next to me, I arrived at the bar and plunked my toukus down on the stool. Jameses kissed me on the cheek and passed me a wad of cash.

The server, who looked like a cross between Frankenstein and Chris Brown, couldn't stop staring. He stared at my booties and curve hugging dress and said, "We don't allow your type in here."

Jameses went into a fit, his eyes nearly went cross-eyed as he said, "Is it because I'm gay?"

The guy did a double take and said, "We don't care about that, its just . . . you can't pay a hooker and expect me not to say something."

I launch into a giggling fit and start flipping my head around, trying to find the lady of the night. I take a sip of my lemon water and say, "Wait, where is she? I wanna see."

The server then fidgets as he stands in place and says, "Ma'am, don't play coy. I know what you are."

My excitement vanishes as I realize I won't see the hooker because this bloke thinks I'm the hooker. I'm baffled because why wouldn't he think differently? I'm wearing stiletto booties and being handed a wad of cash by a man who freely kisses me on the cheek and smacks my rump when I hit the restroom.

So, instead of getting pissed at this server's assumptions, I smile widely. At least he thinks I worth a wad of cash. Sure, the bills might be ones but the server doesn't know that, all he sees is a wad of $dinero.

The lesson is simple-sometimes people will judge you. You can't control where their mind will go but the trick is to not care. Which is harder than ever at times.