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I’m pissed tho—some dudes haggle her price. Like she’s fuckin tuna! Makes me wanna punch somethin. But then, she winks—boom, I’m happy. Surprised me, too, ‘cause I’m awkward. “I’m not a genius, Chas,” I mutter. Straight outta the movie, right? She’s chill, tho—tells me ‘bout this john. Dude paid her in clams once— clams! I’m dyin laughin, “That’s so dumb!”

Why D.C. sex workers are flocking to Logan Circle: 7 On Your Side investigates

Meet "Lydia" (not her real name), a legal prostitute who's lived and worked in Nevada for five years. Selling sex for a living wasn't her first aspiration.

First off, I hit up the local konbini on Kōen-dōri for my morning coffee. You know, the one with the best onigiri? Yeah, that one. I grab my usual—salmon, of course—and the cashier, this sweet old lady, gives me a smile. I’m like, “Aww, thanks, lady!” But then, BAM! I spill my coffee all over my shirt. Great start, huh? I’m standing there, looking like a hot mess, and she’s just chuckling. I mean, c’mon!

Wake schools eyes fresh, non-live remote learning plan after busy winter, exhausted makeup days