This from Saturday’s Journal Star:
A West Bluff man chased a woman who he said stole his pants and wallet early Friday while he was using the bathroom.
The 24-year-old man arrived at the Peoria Police Department about 1:15 a.m. to tell officers he had been robbed. While riding his bike home from Downtown Peoria, the man was reportedly approached by a woman asking for $10 for gas money. He said he withdrew cash from a nearby ATM to help her out.
After the man said he needed to use a bathroom, the woman took him to the restroom in the lobby of Glen Oak Towers, 926 Main St., he told police. There, the man said, the woman began making sexual advances toward him while he sat in a bathroom stall.
The victim allegedly rejected her advances, causing the woman to steal his pants and run outside. The man gave chase and found his pants but was unable to catch the woman. Missing from his clothes was his wallet. Later, he discovered someone had taken $300 from his bank account, he said.
Officers questioned the man’s story and believed he was likely visiting a prostitute when his property was taken. The victim denied that.
This is eerily similar to something that happened to me. Let me explain. Last year I had the good fortune to have the opportunity to go sightseeing for a few days in Boston. On one of the evenings, after watching a Red Sox game in a local tavern, I walked out into the city lights and headed back to my hotel. Unfortunately, after sitting in a bar for three hours in a strange town, I really wasn’t sure exactly which direction my hotel was. As I stood with a confused look on my face a nice young lady who could obviously tell that I was from out of town offered to walk me back. All that talk about Bostonians being rude was so untrue, I thought to myself.
When we arrived at my hotel she said she really had to pee badly and didn’t think she could hold it until she got back home, so she asked if I would let her use my bathroom. Well, sure, I guess. She seemed harmless enough and it was the least I could do since she was so kind in walking me home.
We walked in and as I hit the “up” button on the elevator, the clerk at the desk started screaming at this lady. They started shouting at one another and things really began to heat up as I stepped into the elevator. As the door began to close she looked at me and I shrugged, as if to say “Thanks for your help. Hope you can hold it until you get home.”
It was only as I was taking my short elevator ride that a lightbulb went off in my pea sized brain. She… huh? Naw… couldn’t be… maybe… now wait a minute!
I was just solicited by a hooker!
Unlike the guy in the Journal Star, I kept my pants on.
