An encounter with a tennis gigolo

It all started quite innocently. I went to the pro shop to buy some stuff. Because I had paid for the weekend of tennis, I was entitled to a sweet discount at the pro shop. So I’m there minding my own business, picking out tops, skorts and other pretty but practical outfits (not made of black lace, ha ha), when an Indian instructor came in and asked one of the instructors I had worked with for a ride. My instructor replied that she wasn’t leaving for another couple of hours and asked if he could wait that long. The Indian man replied that he could not as he had agreed to meet someone at the other tennis location. I recognized the address as across the street from my hotel so I joined their conversation to offer the Indian man a ride. He smilingly accepted, and waited somewhat impatiently as I finished my purchases. He even carried the bag to the car for me.

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