Every time I take someone to LAX I take a picture of Encounter.
Today I went 3 times.
The first was a Black urban planner from Detroit.
The second was a woman living in swanky PV.
The third was a stripper who did not one bit look like a stripper, she looked like the head of the Babysitters Club, acne on her cheeks and jeans and not even an interesting top.
In fact: she’s already graduated from a UC in art history, grew up near Calabasas, has only been stripping for 6 months, entirely in Vegas so to keep a down low persona, lives by the beach, and I should have known when her passenger name said Onyx and her suitcase felt
empty.
Her biggest night: a handsome rich guy from DC paid her $4k to hang out with her in the back and chit chat all night and hold his hand. No monkey business. He tipped her and extra $1k at the end of the night.