"How much for a ride, sweetheart?" The old man's lecherous grin makes her skin crawl, but she needs the money. She quotes her price, a number she's learned to associate with her worth. He haggles, she counters, a dance as old as time. He agrees, his lust evident. She leads him to an alley, her heart pounding in her ears. She's done this before, but never for money. As she unzips his pants, she feels a thrill of power. She's in control, she's the product, and she's setting the price.