This must've taken place at least a good 8, 9 years ago. I had driven to Birmingham with a friend of mine (we'll call him "K") to celebrate my sister's securing an internship (i.e. "matching"). See, she was finishing her doctoral program at the University of Alabama at Birmingham and would soon be moving to Virginia (or was it North Carolina?) for a year. The gathering was nice, and I was able to meet a few of her classmates. After dancing, eating, and drinking, we went back to her loft and called it a night.
The next day, we hit the road and headed back to ATL. K was asleep, so I drove until I needed to get gas. Now, I am partial to Chevron gas, and we stopped at a station on Fulton Industrial Boulevard. Now, I am not from Georgia and did NOT know that the area was frequented by prostitutes...in BROAD DAYLIGHT. Real talk. Anyway, I was pumping the gas and playing with my phone (I think). All of a sudden, this white woman approaches me. I'm thinking she wants a few dollars or something. Nope. As we make eye contact, she casually asks "You want some company?" So that's what they're calling it these days. I'm not the most streetwise person in the world, but I knew that "company" meant "poontang." Y'all, I politely declined, got into my car, and watched as she walked in the direction of a nearby hotel.
I thought about her for a while. Thankfully, I'm a lot LESS judgmental than I used to be. Still, I wonder what it's like to surrender your body to strangers, day after day, for cash. It's definitely a desperate act. I pray to never have to make such a choice.
