The driver slowed the car, eyeballing the women walking down the dark street. With his nerves on end, he had trouble finding this part of town, and worried he might mistake an undercover cop for a whore. Four or five women strolled casually on each block. These fallen doves gazed back at him, inviting him to pull around the corner. Most were less than attractive.

Several had bloated bellies, not pregnant but fat. Several were older ladies and appeared worn. Others were somewhat attractive, and their bodies were at least fit with pleasing shapes. Their faces, while cute, painted with thick layers of makeup. They would stare at him and...