Living at the Y sure beat living on Dean Street & I never had sex for money again. That nearby empty room at the Y provided a safe space for me. There wasn’t a lot there, but there was a lot going on in my head. I spent a lot of time alone in bed thinking about what I had done to my body & I felt depressed. .
Living & working at the escort service was horrific. I stayed because I had nowhere else to go. For a while I didn’t want to be touched by anyone, but eventually I started to get horny & felt like it was ok to go out. It was a little strange walking back into Uncle Charlie’s. Without even looking at it, I walked right past the PAC-MAN machine. I never played that game again.
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