Apparently I'm A Bryant Park Hooker--Dedicated to Sharona not because she's a hooker, but because she too understands the irritation of holiday crowds

(The following story is based on true, factual events. The names have NOT been changed to protect the innocent, but it has been abridged to conveniently be read in the span of a coffee break.)

Last night, I went to the tree lighting in Manhattan's Bryant Park. Which, oddly enough, the tree was donated by the Canadian Tourist Association. Hmmm...anyway. For the public's pleasure, the city of NY has installed a full size skating rink, free of charge to patrons, in the middle of Bryant Park. The night's festivities were to include:

1. The lighting of the tree.
2. Ice skating performances by national champions.
3. Vocal performances by Broadway performers (After all, they need something to do now that the strike is going on two weeks.)

I arrived early enough to only be three people deep from the rink. The tree was lit, the skaters performed, and the Tony winners sang. During all of this entertainment, a man in front of me turned around and asked,

"Would you like to take my spot? You'll be able to see better."

"Oh, no thanks." I said. "I'm fine."

"No, really. Squeeze right in here."

He shuffled me into his spot and I said a polite, "Thank you."

I noticed that as time went on he was pressing quite hard against me. Surely this old man, probably in his sixties, couldn't be getting "fresh" with me. I continued to watch, countering his weight. After all, everyone else is packed in here like sardines too. Why, just a little while ago a woman kept hitting her hands against my buttocks and I finally turned around and said,

"If you don't quit it back there I'm going to have to charge you for what you're doing."

She stopped.

I tired of the skaters and singers and this old man rubbing against me, so I turned and said he could have his spot back; I was leaving.

"Oh, I need to go too," and he followed me out of the throng. "Say, what's your name?"

"Leslie."

"Huh?"

"LESLIE."

"Oh, well, Leslie. I just wanna say something. You're a beautiful woman and I would really like to make love to you."

*blink blink*

"I mean, seriously. What do you say we get a hotel, I'll pay for it. I'll even throw a hundred thousand dollars your way."

*blink blink blink*

"I'm married," I say.

"That's okay. Everybody cheats."

He followed me all the way to the subway station, ten blocks away, trying with all of his might to get me to sleep with him. I told him that I admired his tenacity and, again, NO! I would not sleep with him.

I told my friend this story last night and she said, "Why didn't you sleep with him and take the money?"

My response: CAUSE I'M NOT A HOOKER!