Sticker shock and knicker drop

I was walking along a pretty industrial looking main drag in the evening last week when I started to notice the shops I was passing were car dealerships. I guess real estate is so dear that even high priced car dealerships can’t afford much in the way of space. Each of these only had three or four cars, but I walked by dealerships offering Bentleys, Ferraris, Lamborghinis, Maseratis and Lotus’. I was of course arrested by the fact that it would take twenty years to earn enough to buy a car like that. And naturally I would have to then live in said car for the rest of my life. But they look really nice. The new Ferrari looks a lot like the car in Ferris Bueller’s day off, so I am thinking about stealing it and playing hooky from work driving around Chicago. The street was basically empty as I walked past the cars heading east; an hour later I walked back. It was now about 11:30 at night. I was calmly walking by, minding my own business when this woman shouted out a hello. It is pretty rare that people speak to strangers here, so I was surprised. I turned to look and replied with a pleasant greeting. This woman was smiling at me in a suspicious way, and I noticed that she had garish makeup on: Super red cheeks, bright red lips, deep blue eyeshadow; even in the dark I could see her cosmetology. I thought to myself, she must be one of those tarts that everyone talks about. I kept on walking and noticed a series of women in very high heels and short skirts leaning nonchalantly against the walls of the buildings. I kept walking and one more woman approached me; she asked if I had any change, which I answered in the negative, then she asked if I needed anything. I thought for a moment, and concluded that she probably wasn’t offering a strong sense of vocation or inflation protection or even a nice pair of cufflinks. I kept on walking. Some thirty seconds later another woman stepped up to me and asked in a prim voice “would you like to have a go?” “No thank you,” I replied. It was a pretty innocuous exchange. I guess there’s no relation between the cars and the ladies of the night, except that they both surprised me. The cars because I didn’t think I was in a very posh area and the women because they seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, much like ninjas, except with stiletto heels instead of tabi boots.