2 March 2002 | Vol. 2, No. 1

Once I Was a Whore…

and it wasn't any big deal, but I knew

I'd crossed some line somewhere.

I wonder how many of us have,

without anyone ever guessing?

I look normal, I have no scars

from the experience. Probably

it was the most straightforward sex of all.

I knew why I was in his house, no illusions,

no dreams of something more than $100.

He tucked the money in my purse.

Bobby was Filipino, a college graduate.

His dad was Secretary of Something

back home, way up in the government,

they'd been thrown out, of course.

His house was nice. Lots of chess sets

and books. He worked as an accountant

next door to me, the baby office girl.

The other workers were all Mexicans,