It's not Hollywood Blvd, but it'll do

Our local police conducted a prostitution sting in our neighborhood last week, and netted 40 arrests, both female prostitutes (one male) and male patrons. Although I had heard that prostitution was active in our area, I didn't realize it was so close, or so rampant. Mostly because the women I see on the streets targeted by the sting do not fit with any code I have for 'prostitute'. The women I see either look like me (28-40, pushing stroller or herding small children), or have too tight jeans, and filthy hair and t-shirts, and no bra as they spazz down the street. Is this the Midwestern version of a prostitute?

Contemplating this news story reminded me of my years in graduate school in Long Beach. After separating from (and eventually divorcing) my first husband, I moved into a two-bedroom two-bath apartment with friends from school, Dave & Kip, a married couple. The place looked nice, but we had many issues -- the walls were so thin that when the upstairs neighbors showered it woke me up, the local biker gang zoomed up and down the alley at all hours, and car break-ins were frequent. We wondered, right from the start, why the carport directly under our unit, always seemed to have two or three manky looking men hanging out. We thought perhaps it was because from the carport they could disappear down one of three streets were police to drive by. Then one night I came home late, to find Dave waiting up for me with a fantastic story.

Dave had heard a commotion downstairs, and gone down and found two guys fighting and brawling. He tried to shoo them away, then called the cops. The police scattered the men, then left. Dave went back down, having earlier seen someone in one of the storage closets in the carport, and noticed the hasp was broken. He pushed open the door of the storage closet, and a mans voice saying "whoa!", before the light in the closet went out. He thought he caught a glimpse of a woman, and kept an eye out. Later he saw a man and woman walking out of the carport, and down the alley. "You know how there are High-Class Ho's and Low-Class Ho's? Well this was a No-Class Ho!" He described her outfit, spandex bike shorts and ratty t-shirt, looking unbathed at best. And we realized why men were always hanging out in the carport -- they were waiting in line! It was the homeless prostitute!

Now I realize she must have moved to California from the Midwest.