Kings Cross. What a noble English sounding kind of a place. After I put my stuff in my room I made a quick trip to the grocery store I was delighted to see all the trees interspersed throughout the neighborhood and a kind of modern warmth. A city place but a lived-in city place.
Little did I know that a block in the other direction was prostitute central. This became quite evident as I took an early-morning walk. There seemed to be an awful lot of mens clubs, girlie shows and a premium internet café for handling all those ‘special’ downloads. Furthermore, it was early enough in the morning to still be considered ‘business hours’ for the folks that do this for a living.
Eek!!
Between cheapness and pride this is not something I partake in and was certainly not what I had in mind for a morning stroll. Avoiding eye contact was generally enough to keep the situation at arms length until a much older prostitute decided I was her one big chance. Awkward.
I have nothing against sex workers. Most are just making a living or there are extenuating circumstances. I’m actually somewhat heartened by the churches who have realized that combating AIDS and human trafficking means getting on the front lines and dealing compassionately with sex workers. The Salvation Army actually
had a booth at the Sydney Sex-po trying to educate people about human trafficking.
So when this sixty-something prostitute approached me with a sweet look in her eye. I said no as gently as I could and moved on.