"I never would have imagined..."
"It was more than twenty years ago. Mom divorced dad, to protect my sister and I from his depredations, and even though he was stinkin' rich he withheld funds from us. Plus, I'd developed a nasty coke addiction, and along with a thirst for adventure, that drove me to selling my body along the canals.
"How did you get out of it?"
"Through the help and friendship of another sex worker. She was older, in her thirties, a British transwoman named Stella who had set up shop for several years in Amsterdam. She took me under her wing, and basically got me into treatment. Stella actually scrupulously avoided drugs and alcohol. But she was determined to see me get better, and because of my tender age, she felt good and determined to get me out of the profession . It wasn't as hard as we thought it would be. Treatment also dulled the thrill of selling my body, plus, by that time I was so sick of it all, that I was only glad to get out. So, when Mom accidentally tracked me down and dragged me back home with her, let's just say that I was already prepared to go willingly. It also put me off sex, probably for the rest of my life."
"This is very interesting", says Stella. "I have never met any male or trans sex workers."
"We're not really different from the girls."
"I am not so sure about that" rebuts Cynthia. "Patriarchy."
"do you really think that when a dude is paying for sex that he's really going to think much about the politics. If he is thinking at all, that is, and he is not going to be thinking with the head that is above his neck..."
"You might have a point..."
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