abbreviated lunchtime conversation with my boss on the way to Dinahs, in which I turn to a life of prostitution

boss: we’re going to leave you in Inglewood to fend for yourself.
me: I’ll just sell my goods.
boss: but not your camera equipment, you need to document your work for the story you will never write.
me: when I become a whore… or a lady of the night.
boss: exactly.
me: but really why should whoring be contained to time of day? there’s a whole untapped daytime market. so to speak.
boss: you can write off any expenses on whorish clothes towards your job.
me: or hobby.
boss: you can work on charitable donations.
me: or just have a tip jar.