So Tuesday night at about 10pm I was moving stuff out of one of our apartments in Soho for a new tenant to move in to, I had just finished and about to leave, walking out of the front door and making sure it’s shut.

A kid, no older than 17 maybe 18 tops walks up to me and asks, “Excuse me does the prostitute live here?”

I turn around from shutting the door and say “Are you shitting me kid?”

He replies, “No, really is the prostitute here? I’ve got money.”

The first thought that flashed through my head was, “I should say to this him ‘Come out back, show me you got the money to prove you ain’t a time waster’ then I can just beat the crap out of him and take the cash.”

Second thought… “I’m too effin’ tired to give him a life lesson.”

I raise my fist up and say “Kid you better piss off right now before I beat the shit out of you.”

He runs away.

What annoyed me most was not being asked if I knew where the prostitutes are (I do, don’t ask how I know and to be honest I wish I never knew!), but that this idiot of a kid had all the self preservation instincts of a fucking suicide bomber. Geesh.

Why didn’t he just say “Hey Mr. Stranger can you come and kick the shit out of me and take all my money please?”