I was in San Francisco last year, visiting, and decided to hit the town one night with my cousin, Scott.

We went to this swank danceclub called the Velvet lounge. Real nice, red rope and all. I had one of my gloss silver Shaner shirts on, and still stuck out, even in San Francisco! I loved it.

Some how we were able to sneak a booth in the full place, and I sat there, acting cool, (or at least trying) and drinking some single malt scotches. Before I knew what had hit me, two buxom beauties came and sat next to me. I couldn’t believe it. We got to chatting, and grew very flirtatious. I was psyched. How could a guy get this lucky?

Scott returned from the dance floor, and sat with my two new friends, and kept looking at me funny. I ignored him, I wouldn’t let him steal my thunder.

As the place was closing, we went outside. I was subtly hinting to the women that they may want to join us for a nightcap. For some reason, they looked at me like I was the biggest moron the world, and promptly exited.

Confused, I asked Scott why he had been looking at me funny earlier. Then he told me.

The women were hookers.