What is it with me and prostitutes lately?

So my weekend was slightly weird.

It opened nicely. A friend recently competed on Jeopardy and the show aired Friday night. So a number of us gathered at some friends' house in Brooklyn to watch. He won big, we were all very happy for him.

Then we played poker in the basement (lowest-level, whatever, it's an apt., though a big one). I won. Yay me.

Heading home having had, perhaps, a beer or two too many (let's be honest: perhaps 8 or 10 too many.) I dozed off slightly and missed the transfer from the F to the 6 line to head home. No worries, though, as the F intersects with the E a stop or two later and the E actually goes even closer to my place.

At the E transfer station I missed an E by literal inches and then 10 minutes later it was a C train that trundled through. The C does not head over to the East side. But it was late, I was drunk, so I did what I sometimes do and just took it up to 50th st. on the West side and walked across.

And during my walk, I was propositioned by a prostitute. A huge white SUV ahead of me rolled its window down as I neared and the blonde girl driving leaned over and asked me where I was headed.

"Home."

"Where's home?"

"Nearby."

"Want some company on your way home?"

(Light turns on in my head as I figure out what this is... I was drunk...)
"Oh! No." (Walks purposefully away.)

50th or 51st around Madison. 12:30 at night. When relating this tale to friends, I've heard of similar experiences. Guess they want to tap the i-banker trade but don't want to risk actual streetwalking.

The next day I had a weird conversation (fn1) with my real estate attorney but that's perhaps best saved for another time.

fn1 Non-prostitute related except for the slight overlap of my next-door neighbor being a prostitute. But that fun fact has never actually come up in conversations with my real estate attorney.