One of the best pieces of early writing I’ve done. If only I could go there again.

Men started to drift in off the streets, business men who had daughters my age—who wondered why their wives couldn’t move like me, look like me, or seduce like me; blue collar men who wished they had me to show off, instead of their frumpy wives who got that way from pushing out their babies, and retired men who were just killing time and waiting to die. And there were the indigent men who spent their government checks on me, because they desired me more than life itself.