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We’re in the room. Standard. He didn’t seem impressed by it and I’m a bit embarrassed about my comment that it was a nice room. Of course he’s been in better. So, here I am in a hotel with a complete stranger that I met, not from a bar or social event or even on a dating site, but from a site where arrangements, trades, bargains like these are implied between the lines. It’s no mystery that this would happen. I walked in to it knowing that I’ll be submitting myself to someone for an exchange of some form of finance. Who am I? Who have I become? I’ve become the woman I’ve often fantasized about in my adolescent years.

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