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For one night, I was a Prostitute
I knew my standpoint about prostitution from the very beginning and spent weeks trying to find the best arguments to support my view, however no matter how much facts I read, I felt that there was something critical missing. I wanted more than facts; I wanted to be able to understand how it is to be in the shoes of a street worker, because in reality, most of us arguing for or against legalization of prostitution cannot relate to the every day life of one. So I decided that I should be a prostitute for a night. A night is not enough to know how it is to walk in a sex workers shoes, but I was hoping that it would give me enough insight to understand the subject better. One night three weeks ago I was sitting at a bus stop in the corner of Santa Monica and Vermont, a street in Los Angeles where many prostitutes find their clients. I had enlisted two of my closest male friends as protection, in case of any danger that might come out of my experiment, and they were safely positioned in a car across the street from me. Even though I had no intention of performing any sexual favors in exchange for money, I was feeling extremely nervous and anxious, sitting there in high heels and a dress, which was very out of place compared to the tiny outfits on the three women and a male transvestite standing not very far from me. It took me about half an hour to gather enough courage to engage in a short conversation with one of the women. Her name was Norma, was in her early thirties and told me she had been a “working” girl for three years now. She asked me if I was new, since she had not seen me around before. Being a terrible liar, I told her the truth, I am here to do some research. She gave me a glance up and down and then laughed at me, “Yeah, you don’t really dress like us” and then walked away. That was the only conversation I had during my four hours as a prostitute. During this time I received two invitations from men driving pass the...
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