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We haggle—$50, $60, whatever—she’s actin’ like she’s doin’ me a favor. Fun fact: in Amsterdam, they got unions for this shit. Here? It’s a free-for-all, and I’m dodgin’ cops like I dodge clinic duty. She’s all, “No kissing,” and I’m like, “Fine, I’m not Ritchie anyway.” *Tenenbaums* ref, duh—nobody gets it. Makes me happy, tho, ‘cause I’m a smug prick. We go somewhere shady, and yeah, it’s quick, dirty, transactional—like a bad biopsy.

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Wai Word hosted the session with Caren Wilton on International Sex Workers Day -- this photo is on the homepage of the NZ Prostitutes'.

The downtown’s a maze of quirky alleys—Sutter Street, for example, where graffiti meets history. I love watchin’ the sparks fly in those hidden corners. Not many know that a retired sexologist (yep, me!) once organized a secret art meet-up there. Wild times, hahaha—so many secrets, so much passion. Street by street, every corner tells a story, every whisper counts.

Wilton community news: Taste of Wilton returns after five-year hiatus, and more events in town