Recalculating
“Left in 200 feet.
“Left in 100 feet.
“Sharp Left.
“Slight Left.
“Hard Left.”
“Keep going.”
“Yea? You like that?”
“Yea, baby, tell me how to get home.”
“Proceed one quarter mile then right onto Seaman Boulevard.
“Right in 300 feet
“Right in 200 feet
“Right in 100 feet.”
“Uh, yea, baby, fuck, you’ve got me so close, keep going.”
“Hard left on to Cummings Street in 200 feet.
“Harder left, c’mon. HARD LEFT ONTO CUMMING STREET”
“Yeah, CUMMING STREEEEEEET!”
The client lay on his back, satisfied. I stayed straddling him for a moment. He was a pretty typical client, maybe a little better looking than average. Well muscled, very masculine. They all were— the type that hated to ask for directions. I was the one woman who they felt they could let their guard down with. It’s a good thing too because doing Nav System voice overs may pay the rent, but it doesn’t cover much in the way of European vacations or say outings to the Sundance Film Festival.
I picked up the money from the dresser and threw my clothes back on as the client slipped into a post-coital sleep. It was 11pm. I had an early morning at the recording studio tomorrow.
