She stands at the corner of 14^th and 1^st, a hand on her hip and pink mini-dress too tight.

He drives around the block, looking for someone to keep him company.

The music playing on the radio is turned up low, but she notices him anyway. His window is rolled down and he stops in front of her. He doesn’t say anything to her and for the first time in her entire career (the first time in these three weeks); she doesn’t know what to do.

“Are you looking for a good time?” she asks, unsure as to what he needs.

He shakes his head.

“Not really,” he says. “Get in the car.”

She nods.

-

The car ride to wherever she’s being taken to is oddly silent, the radio is turned off and he doesn’t really speak. He drives looking at the road, not even taking a look at her. Of course, she doesn’t open ; it’s not her job.