August 27th, 2008
“Son of a bitch, you’re running up the meter!”27 comments
August 20th, 2008
"Hey bro, remember me? You wrote that story about me in the paper."3 comments
August 13th, 2008
“It’s the Californians, man, the Californians are the worst.”15 comments
August 6th, 2008
The middle-aged man I picked up at Vendetta is in a hyperactively verbose lather ...0 comments
July 23rd, 2008
When I step into the obese old woman's apartment5 comments
July 16th, 2008
The obese old woman at Fred Meyer has a bad hip and a wheelchair...8 comments
July 9th, 2008
“...I need to take a shower first and wash all of this blood off.”6 comments
July 2nd, 2008
“So I’ve got these two women in the back of my cab who just refuse to get out...”8 comments
June 25th, 2008
“My friend’s getting divorced, and he’s really drunk,” says the bartender...8 comments
June 18th, 2008
There’s nothing like a good Friday night, and I’m referring to the money.3 comments
[April 13th, 2005] Prostitution should be legal. It has always been here; it's never going to go away. It allows a women to sell herself explicitly if she chooses, rather than settle for all the more implicit ways that are acceptable, and legalizing it helps protect her. I'm totally fine with it.
Except when it's going on in the back of my cab.
I pick this couple up on Northeast Sandy Boulevard, and they want to go to a motel on 82nd. No problem. She could be any age between 18 and 35-it's hard to tell sometimes. The young girl who works seven nights a week to feed a crank habit can look older than her mother back home in whatever town she left.
Him, though-him I don't like. He looks like someone who might hit her a little bit; he's definitely in this for the power thing as much as for the sex. And he's exercising that power right now, murmuring something in her ear. I keep a wary eye on the rearview mirror. She's shaking her head slightly. I can tell he's giving her another bill.
Sure enough, her head disappears from view. I am not happy. I hear the zipper going down. I see him close his eyes in the rear view; he opens them again and gives me a "what are you gonna do about it?" look.
What I'm gonna do about it is hit that pothole I spotted up ahead at about 45 mph. The car lurches; he yelps in pain. I stifle a laugh.
And after she's come back into view herself, I swear she looks like she wants to laugh, too.
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RECENT COMMENTS ON “Prostitution should be legal...”
Excellent!Well written and funny. Nice job taking an icky subject and making a good column out of it.—Greg







