Dark streets
I was walking through the dusk-tinted back streets of what passes for Seattle's photo district tonight, south of lake Union, on my way to Ivey to drop off a couple rolls of film.
Near my destination, I passed a tired-looking woman, probably mid-30s but seeming much older, who stared at me as I went by. I often see photographers I know down there, so I looked back, thinking she was someone I hadn't recognized at first glance. But as soon as she spoke, I realized my mistake.
"Want a date?"
"Uh, no thanks," I mumbled, and kept going.
"Hey, look," she said in a rush, "can you spare some change or something? I gotta get something to eat, man, I mean I'll give you a blow job for five bucks, I'm so hungry."
I stopped and looked back at her.
Aw, hell, I don't know if she was really hungry, or just junk-sick and playing me for a fool. But I challenge you to have looked at her in that moment and not have believed every word.
I gave her some money. I declined her offer. I wished her good luck.