This blog post is from deadgirlsdontdance.com. The story unfolded at the bus stop at 9th and Main in front of Popeye's (Or at least, i am pretty sure it did) The blogger, Janice X, is pretty freaking hilarious and if you have the context of where she is writing from, makes some great incidental points about the change in the neighborhood as well as the on the ground reality of bus service in Jax.
http://www.deadgirlsdontdance.com/a-case-of-mistaken-identity/
Quote
A Case of Mistaken Identity
My trip home from work this evening was just delightful. Some crazy old guy tried to pick me up at the bus stop. He hobbled up to me and told me he had $300, and he wanted to get a room and a bottle of vodka, and that I was beautiful and he would be really nice to me if I would join him. I just stood there aghast for a moment, partly because I was so surprised that he looked clean and wasn’t smelly.
I suppose he could have gotten the wrong idea from the fact that I was lounging against a wall on a street corner in an area of town that long ago was notorious for the availability of streetwalking prostitutes, but HONESTLY. The hookers relocated something like a decade ago, I believe. I just got off work from a restaurant kitchen, and was dressed accordingly.
(I think it’s a sad commentary on the state of the oldest profession in this town if a woman wearing food-stained jeans and t-shirt can be mistaken for a hooker, even in a run-down neighborhood, but that’s a topic for another day.)
I gave the old man a dirty look and told him I was just waiting for a bus, then pointedly looked away. He didn’t take the hint. The crazies never do. He apparently felt the need to explain himself.
“My name is Bob. I’m 65 years old. You know about any apartments for rent? I just got throwed out ’cause my girlfriend went to jail. She was my girlfriend, you know, I don’t buy women. I give ‘em money and treat ‘em nice, though, because women like that.†(This is correct. So he’s a loony, but he’s not entirely stupid. You don’t have to be a hooker to like money. The world would be a better place if more men understood that. Preferably men who are NOT toothless 65-year-old homeless crazies.) “See this ring? It’s gold. I got a lot of gold. I got $300, too, and I need a place to sleep tonight. You’re really beautiful.â€
I slowly sidled away. Bob kept talking, gradually increasing in volume, but started drifting toward somebody else, thank goodness.
“Hey! I need to talk to you, man! You know about any apartments for rent around here?â€
The man he was addressing scurried around the corner, because by now Bob was shouting. Not in a hostile way, just amazingly loud for someone who appeared to be rather decrepit. Everyone at the bus stop was trying to ignore him, but it was hard, because he kept saying weird funny things, and people were snickering.
“I need a room tonight. It’s gonna get cold, but that’s okay, I survived the Ice Age. I’m like a roach. I AM a roach. I WILL survive! That’s a song. That’s a song by Gloria Gaynor.â€
Bob pointed at me and started singing “I Will Survive†in a cracked voice. Oh GOD DAMMIT WHERE IS MY FUCKING BUS?!?
To make things worse, I was really tempted to take video or at least a picture of this poor old nut. It would have been interesting. He looked like a perfectly normal old guy from a distance; he was clean shaven, and his clothes, although faded and a bit shabby, were clean and fairly tidy… but at close range, it was obvious that he was quite mad. Insane. Crackers. He was smiling as pleasantly as he could manage, keeping his lips closed over his toothless gums, but when I looked at his eyes I could almost see the wasps eating his brain. It was repulsive, yet fascinating. (My hand started rummaging in my bag for my digital camera, without my permission.)
It was a bad idea to photograph this man. I wasn’t sure how he would react, and the high probability that he would interpret it as a sign of attraction and interest was unacceptable in light of the fact that I had NO IDEA how much longer I would have to put up with his nonsense before I was rescued by a bus. (Stop rummaging, dammit!)
Meanwhile, Bob forgot the words to “I Will Surviveâ€, faltered for a moment, then launched into another song, after announcing that it was by Hank Williams, Sr., while wandering aimlessly around in the street, in rush hour traffic. Lucky for him it was moving at a crawl.
I then had another horrible thought… what if I took his picture, and he ALSO boarded my bus and started following me? He didn’t seem dangerous, but I can’t begin to calculate how embarrassing and how much more tedious than usual my bus ride would have been. What if he tried to follow me HOME? (The disobedient camera-seeking hand withdrew from the bag of its own accord.)
The poor old bugger somehow made it safely to the other side of the street, where he started annoying some other people who were waiting for a bus heading the other direction, and then MY BUS ARRIVED.
Hallefrickinglujah. I have officially survived yet another day of being a loony magnet.
Quotebut HONESTLY. The hookers relocated something like a decade ago
The hookers are still, very much there in the area...especially along 8th street. Aside from that, the article is funny...there sure are a lot of 'crazies' out there, and Bob is no exception!
Okay, from another prospective, I know a "BOB" that LOVES HOOKERS... But not the way that you think. 99% of these girls and guys were sexual abuse victims from early childhood. That alone causes severe mental conditions, with a full range of problems of their own. Then from childhood they were told, Don't tell Mommy, or don't tell your teacher, because if you do the police will come and shoot us. They will take you away and put you in jail. Other similar horror tales that become ingrained in the now damaged minds of otherwise fine young people. To hide the pain they develop cutting, hair pulling, babbling, or impossible fantasy worlds. To survive they often run away at very young ages and find they cannot work. Introduced by a kind pimp to food, clothes, and "LOVE" they are told, "Honey just do this for us a couple of months and we'll have the money to get to Hollywood..."
(http://i196.photobucket.com/albums/aa111/Ocklawaha/child_Colombia.jpg)
If she leaves her "CRIB" she will be killed... Oh bet you didn't know that's where the new slang for house came from.
A Crib was the lowest form of prostitution in the old South and West. Often because it was carried out in the "Corn Cribs" or "animal shelters" on farms... Are you proud of your crib?
SO NOW... WE HAVE...
A person who cannot (due to conditions beyond their own control) turn to authorities, churches or groups for help.
A person that has severe mental issues.
A person on a path to death like a rocket sled on rails.
A person confused about what love, family or care even are.
A person that will offend because being an outlaw is "BEING" and anything else is unknown.
A person using dangerous drugs (funny I should say that)
A person who will be beaten, raped, tortured, drugged and left for dead over and over again.
SOCIETY WILL SAY...
She/He made the bad choice, and just needs to wake up and come out of it. (like you can decide to be 150 pounds thinner, quit smoking or change your skin color)
They should just get a real job like everyone else. (Yeah, hire a person with a record? fat chance)
They're dirty and dangerous, if they are on my block, I'm calling the cops. (You are ugly, so I'm telling...)
Maybe the drugs will kill them off and the problem solves itself. (maybe the same drugs would clear your minds?)
How do you rape a hooker? Bull Shit. (The same way you rape a lamb, ugly and violently)
Make them get a permit, they'll always be with us... (so will murder, shall we permit that too?)
God how heartless, on this Sunday morning, to think so many of our good Christian citizens are thinking any of these things. 12, 16, 24, 38 years ago, that was a beautiful baby. It's little heart and soul craved love and care and it got none of it. My true PRAYER for my city is to not be "The City of Brotherly Love", but Americas Compassion City.
You see, THIS BOB LOVES HOOKERS, and IMHO YOU SHOULD TOO!
Ocklawaha
Yeah, and I really thought it was funny, but sure as Shit (can I say that on Sunday?) someone will jump in with the old Sling-shot or paintball gun idea...
Like someone else I know, I like to stir the pot now and then...
Ocklawaha
ROFL Man... Hey I'll make you a deal, If Tory got my links... Next time the little old ladies of Springfield have a function at 9Th and Main, I help sponsor "BLACK OAK ARKANSAS" for the music!
Ocklawaha
I don't see where she even mentions a city, let alone a neighborhood? Does she work for you? I did see she works in a kitchen on another post.
Quote from: Ocklawaha on February 03, 2008, 10:52:36 AM
ROFL Man... Hey I'll make you a deal, If Tory got my links... Next time the little old ladies of Springfield have a function at 9Th and Main, I help sponsor "BLACK OAK ARKANSAS" for the music!
Ocklawaha
You're killing me...BLACK OAK ARKANSAS and old ladies...in the same sentence...ROFLMAO
Quote from: stephendare on February 03, 2008, 10:27:52 AM
> great points on prostitution Bob, although I think that Deadgirlsdontdance.com was taking a more lighthearted approach at being mistaken for a hooker.....
This is quite correct. I can say that with certainty, being the actual perpetrator of the blog post. (The incident actually occurred on the corner of
7TH and Main, not that it matters. There's crazy people everywhere.) I wasn't making any grand statements about anything.
I certainly COULD have said something profound about:
* traffic congestion
* wretched public transportation
* the injustice of prostitution -or-
* the tragedy of crazy little old men wandering around unsupervised due to the inadequate availability of mental health services for the indigent and poor...
... but I didn't. It's just a story. I thought it was funny.
Sigh.
Thanks.
As for the hookers still being around, as per jbm32206, I haven't seen any obvious prostitutes roaming Main Street in daylight. But that may be a lack of perception on my part.
I suppose perhaps the really cheap ones are probably walking around in ugly, dingy clothes, accessorized with an air of weariness and impatience... and that's what I usually have on when I'm on my way home from work. Thus the mistaken identity.
I live on the outskirts of a bad neighborhood in Arlington, and the crack whores that occasionally come staggering down my street are pretty shabby.
I can remember driving down Main Street a long time ago, and women with too much makeup and cheap, frilly, colorful dresses walking around and leaning out of windows shouting at passing cars. The cops didn't really give a crap, back then, so the hookers stood out in sharp contrast to the other women. I guess I'm just old.
What I said was "The hookers are still, very much there in the area...especially along 8th street"
Generally, you don't see many hookers during the daylight hours, and if you drive along 8th street in the evening and nights, you'll see them. Trust me, they're not the nicest looking gals (and guys) around! There's even one that wears go-go boots, and sometimes they don't match.
Being a person who deals with PROS every other day..I did think the blog was funny at first, but if you ever had a conversation with a lady of the night you wouldn't be smiling. Those women minds are down right destroyed. They tell me some of the "tricks" they have done and all the abuse they go through for whatever reason (not all of them are on drugs yet). Its a Hard Knock Life....
Okay, folks. There's just no polite way to say this.
SHUT UP ABOUT THE DAMN HOOKERS. There are no actual hookers in my original blog post.
(http://www.deadgirlsdontdance.com/a-case-of-mistaken-identity/)
It's not about hookers. It's just a story. A true story, but still just a story... with NO HOOKERS in it.
Why doesn't somebody get worked up about the crazy little old man wandering in traffic?
Hahahaha...
Awesome. I agree Irksome.
That wasnt Jimmy was it? He is our resident stumbler who likes to lay down randomly in the middle of traffic. He was baker acted a year or so ago, but they let him go as soon as he fattened up, and seemed stable on his meds... Little did they know he wouldnt be able to stay on his meds!! Who knew the crazy homeless guy couldnt keep himself on meds!
No, he wasn't LAYING in traffic, he was just gimping around slowly in it, and anyway, he said his name was Bob. He was clean and tidy, though. Who knows? Maybe he really DID have a girlfriend until she wound up in jail for whatever reason. Poor old thing, he probably just wanted somebody to take care of him.
Quoteauthor=irksomekitty link=topic=1593.msg12528#msg12528 date=1202358710]
Okay, folks. There's just no polite way to say this.
SHUT UP ABOUT THE DAMN HOOKERS. There are no actual hookers in my original blog post.
(http://www.deadgirlsdontdance.com/a-case-of-mistaken-identity/)
It's not about hookers. It's just a story. A true story, but still just a story... with NO HOOKERS in it.
Why doesn't somebody get worked up about the crazy little old man wandering in traffic?
We weren't the only ones talking about them. Now as for getting worked up about the crazy little man wandering in traffic...the neighborhoods are filled with them.
Quoteauthor=irksomekitty: As for the hookers still being around, as per jbm32206, I haven't seen any obvious prostitutes roaming Main Street in daylight. But that may be a lack of perception on my part.
I suppose perhaps the really cheap ones are probably walking around in ugly, dingy clothes, accessorized with an air of weariness and impatience... and that's what I usually have on when I'm on my way home from work. Thus the mistaken identity.
I live on the outskirts of a bad neighborhood in Arlington, and the crack whores that occasionally come staggering down my street are pretty shabby.
I can remember driving down Main Street a long time ago, and women with too much makeup and cheap, frilly, colorful dresses walking around and leaning out of windows shouting at passing cars. The cops didn't really give a crap, back then, so the hookers stood out in sharp contrast to the other women. I guess I'm just old.
Now as for your little story, we enjoyed it...you can tell by how it sparked converstations...
Quote from: irksomekitty on February 06, 2008, 11:31:50 PM
Okay, folks. There's just no polite way to say this.
SHUT UP ABOUT THE DAMN HOOKERS. There are no actual hookers in my original blog post.
(http://www.deadgirlsdontdance.com/a-case-of-mistaken-identity/)
It's not about hookers. It's just a story. A true story, but still just a story... with NO HOOKERS in it.
Why doesn't somebody get worked up about the crazy little old man wandering in traffic?
I like you ;D Even though...er..uh, I mean ESPECIALLY because you're not a hooker ;)
Seriously, this was a funny story. I too get harassed by "crazies", but certainly not to the extent that you must having to take a bus from Springfield to Arlington. Btw, I live out around Baymeadows and the hookers are freakin rampant out here. I hear since the Wal-mart went in on Phillips, they've started to drift back into people's neighborhoods and use their lawns for toilets as well as camp out in their John's car to 'work'. I haven't had to deal with any of that, but I've seen a few working girls...and guys (at least I think it was a guy) hanging out around the old Baymeadows Inn. There was this one guy dressed in cut-off hot-pants, go-go boots, a half-shirt (that was the dead give away), carrying what appeared to be an overnight bag, walking his/her way back to the bus-stop. Ok, ok, I know you said stop with the hookers, but come on, hookers are much more entertaining than some guy downtown walking in the middle of traffic. Here's a story for you, ever been on a bike riding at 20+ mph and come upon a crazy man standing in the middle of the road facing you with a rusted hammer? Now, THAT'S crazy.
Quote from: second_pancake on February 07, 2008, 08:50:47 AMHere's a story for you, ever been on a bike riding at 20+ mph and come upon a crazy man standing in the middle of the road facing you with a rusted hammer? Now, THAT'S crazy.
No, I can't say that I have, but I DID once have a guy in a nice suit offer me $20 to let him lie on the sidewalk in front of me, pretend he wasn't there and walk over him while he looked up my skirt. I counter-offered to kick him in the shins for $10, but he called me a bitch and stormed off.
WhatEVER. I thought it was a bargain.
Quote from: Ocklawaha on February 03, 2008, 09:37:52 AM
Okay, from another prospective, I know a "BOB" that LOVES HOOKERS... But not the way that you think. 99% of these girls and guys were sexual abuse victims from early childhood. That alone causes severe mental conditions, with a full range of problems of their own. Then from childhood they were told, Don't tell Mommy, or don't tell your teacher, because if you do the police will come and shoot us. They will take you away and put you in jail. Other similar horror tales that become ingrained in the now damaged minds of otherwise fine young people. To hide the pain they develop cutting, hair pulling, babbling, or impossible fantasy worlds. To survive they often run away at very young ages and find they cannot work. Introduced by a kind pimp to food, clothes, and "LOVE" they are told, "Honey just do this for us a couple of months and we'll have the money to get to Hollywood..."
(http://i196.photobucket.com/albums/aa111/Ocklawaha/child_Colombia.jpg)
If she leaves her "CRIB" she will be killed... Oh bet you didn't know that's where the new slang for house came from.
A Crib was the lowest form of prostitution in the old South and West. Often because it was carried out in the "Corn Cribs" or "animal shelters" on farms... Are you proud of your crib?
SO NOW... WE HAVE...
A person who cannot (due to conditions beyond their own control) turn to authorities, churches or groups for help.
A person that has severe mental issues.
A person on a path to death like a rocket sled on rails.
A person confused about what love, family or care even are.
A person that will offend because being an outlaw is "BEING" and anything else is unknown.
A person using dangerous drugs (funny I should say that)
A person who will be beaten, raped, tortured, drugged and left for dead over and over again.
SOCIETY WILL SAY...
She/He made the bad choice, and just needs to wake up and come out of it. (like you can decide to be 150 pounds thinner, quit smoking or change your skin color)
They should just get a real job like everyone else. (Yeah, hire a person with a record? fat chance)
They're dirty and dangerous, if they are on my block, I'm calling the cops. (You are ugly, so I'm telling...)
Maybe the drugs will kill them off and the problem solves itself. (maybe the same drugs would clear your minds?)
How do you rape a hooker? Bull Shit. (The same way you rape a lamb, ugly and violently)
Make them get a permit, they'll always be with us... (so will murder, shall we permit that too?)
God how heartless, on this Sunday morning, to think so many of our good Christian citizens are thinking any of these things. 12, 16, 24, 38 years ago, that was a beautiful baby. It's little heart and soul craved love and care and it got none of it. My true PRAYER for my city is to not be "The City of Brotherly Love", but Americas Compassion City.
You see, THIS BOB LOVES HOOKERS, and IMHO YOU SHOULD TOO!
Ocklawaha
Thank You, Ock. I too often find myself with a judgemental attitude toward such persons. You are kind to remind me of their plight.
It would be much funnier if she got on bus then realized she wanted that money,stopped bus in middle of street,get out and run to him...and they went together home.
Turn it into movies and she would win Oscar.
Quote from: Bostech on March 08, 2010, 02:01:01 PM
It would be much funnier if she got on bus then realized she wanted that money,stopped bus in middle of street,get out and run to him...and they went together home.
Turn it into movies and she would win Oscar.
Bravo, Bostech, start working on that screenplay. You can pitch it to the Hollywood studios as "My Fair Lady" in reverse, in the ghetto.
I think it's a great story! I especially like "you could almost see the wasps eating his brain..." oH, man, that's a great line.
anything change on this lately? I doubt it.
I think there are more johns at this point(who haven't figured out that times have changed) than hookers. I was outside waiting for someone and was just looking around at the landscaping when some random old guy confused me with a hooker. He was driving a pickup truck and looked like someones nice grandpa. He slowed down and started looking my way then stopped and clumsily tried to "hire" me. I started giving him a hard time, told him the old Springfield was dead and if he didn't want to go to jail he should not come here anymore looking for illegal hookups. I felt bad having to scare and lecture a little old man but my anger at his behavior trumped my compassion.
Springfield Girl -- :) I'm sure you gave him a "scared straight" experience!
Since she brought it up...
I Will Survive
At first I was afraid I was petrified
Thinking I couldn't live without you by my side
And I've been spending nights
Thinking how you did me wrong
And I grew strong
And I learned how to get along
And now you're back
From outer space
And I find you here with that sad look upon your face
I should have changed that stupid lock
Oh made you leave your key
If I've known for a second you'd be back to bother me
Go on now, go walk out the door
Turn around now
You're not welcome anymore
You're the one who tried to hurt me with goodbye
Do you think I'd crumble
Did you think I'd lay down and die?2
No, not I, I will survive
Long as I know how to love
I know I'll stay alive
I've got all my life to live
And all my love to give and I'll survive
I, I, I will survive1
It took all my strength not to fall apart
Trying' without my mind to mend my broken heart
I spent so many nights
Feeling sorry for myself, how I cried
But now I hold my head up high
And you see me, somebody new
I'm not that lonely little person who's still in love with you
Now you come dropping in
Expecting me to be free
Now I'm saving all my lovin' for someone who's loving me
Go on now, walk out the door
Turn around now
You're not welcome anymore
You're the one who tried to hurt me with goodbye
Think I'd might crumble
Did you think I'd lay down and die?1
No, not I, I will survive
Long as I know how to love
I know I'll stay alive
I've got my life to live
And all my love to give and I'll survive
I, I, I will survive
Go and go, walk out the door
Turn around now
You're not welcome anymore
You're the one who tried to hurt me with goodbye
Do you think I'd crumble
Did you think I'd lay down and die?
No, not I, I will survive
Long as I know how to love
I know I'll stay alive
I've got all my life to live
And all my love to give and I'll survive
I, I, I will survive
It took all my strength not to fall apart
Trying' without my mind to mend my broken heart
I spent so many nights
Feeling sorry for myself, how I cried
Now I hold my head up high
And you see me, somebody new
Not that lonely little person who's still in love with you
Now you come dropping in
Expecting me to be free
but I'm saving all my lovin' for someone who's loving me
Go on and go, walk out the door
Turn around now
You're not welcome anymore
You're the one who tried to hurt me with goodbye
Think I'd might crumble
Did you think I'd lay down and die?
No, not I, I will survive
Long as I know how to love
I know I'll stay alive
I've got my life to live
And all my love to give and I'll survive
I, I, I will survive
Go on and go, walk out the door
Turn around now
You're not welcome anymore
You're the one who tried to hurt me with goodbye
Seriously though... Does anybody know of any apartments in Springfield to rent? (:
By the hour?
Quote from: Murder_me_Rachel on March 04, 2016, 01:29:43 PM
I lived on the West side of 9th street in mid-aught's and for like a month, there was SO MUCH hooker-ing going on. Like, I saw a homeless dude getting a BJ in the bushes of a church where there HVAC unit was. Good times.
I can top that, I saw two people doing it next to a cathedral in broad daylight when I was in England. Not even trying to hide or anything. Just one of those WTF moments. God Bless!