"My God! What happened to you?" asked Charlie.
Greg stumbled into Charlie's apartment, clutching his bleeding cheek.
"I need a wet towel or somethin'" He grunted, allowing himself to fall on Charlie's couch.
Charlie brought him a damp sponge, which Greg dabbed cautiously onto his face, recoiling as it stung.
"How is it?" Greg asked.
"It doesn't look deep, but it's bleeding quite badly," Charlie replied, "What did you do?"
"I did nuthin'" Greg growled, "It was this bitch I picked up"
"You picked up another hooker!? I keep telling you-"
"Dude," Greg interrupted, "So not the priority right now"
Charlie sighed. Greg continued.
"I'm driving around downtown and I see her standing near a bus stop. She was real hot. Hot pants and fishnets. So I offered to, you know, "give her a lift""
Charlie gave Greg a reproachful eye, but Greg ignored him.
"She spoke in a foreign accent, European, I think. She said she was a wanderer, searching the globe for one true home. I thought it was just some kind of kinky role play she was doin', so I didn't say nuthin'. She smiled a lot. She seemed fun."
"Get to the point," Charlie scolded. Greg threw him a dark look.
"Anyways, she says to take her to Samson street Park. I figure that's a good idea 'cause the Park'd be really quiet this time of night. So we get there, and I park up behind some trees. All of a sudden, she's all, "Why have you stopped here?". I didn't know what she was talkin' about so I just started taking my pants off. She starts yellin' at me, and hittin' me, so I lost my rag and I try to grab hold of her. But she jumps out the car. I start yellin' at her and she fuckin' throws a bottle at me!"
"A bottle!?"
"A small one, for vodka or somethin'. It stung like crazy"
Greg felt his face. It seemed the bleeding was beginning to slow. He was about to ask Charlie for a bandage when he noticed that he was staring at him.
"What?"
"Greg, what if..." Charlie began, slowly, "It sounds to me that...what if when you offered to give her a lift, she though you were, you know, offering to give her a lift?"
"What d'you mean?"
Charlie breathed deeply.
"What if she wasn't a prostitute?"
"What!? 'Course she was. I told you what she was wearing. How can you dress up like that, stand on the street and not be a hooker?"
"You said she was standing at the bus stop"
"So?"
"You said she was foreign. Maybe she didn't know how she would look in this country"
Greg was stunned. The realization of what he'd done crept up upon him. But he was far too scared. He ignored it.
"She had to be. She had to"
"I'm just say-"
"She had to!"
"Alright," Charlie sighed, raising his hands in defeat, "Alright"
He stood up and walked towards his bedroom.
"I'll see you tomorrow"