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So, I’m strollin’, tryna find a chick who’s, uh, *available*. How you doin’, ladies? I spot this one gal, all sass, leanin’ on a corner like she owns it. I’m thinkin’, “She’s got that *Moonrise* spunk—‘I’m not leaving without you!’” I swagger up, all Joey-style, “Hey, how you doin’?” She smirks, like, “Boy, you lost?” I’m laughin’, but inside I’m like—damn, this is wild! Did ya know, back in the day, some prostitutes used secret codes? Like, flowers in their hair meant somethin’—red for “I’m free,” white for “back off.” Crazy, right? History’s freaky like that.

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This article explores the screening practices employed by sex workers to negotiate risks of violence from clients while working on the streets in New Zealand.

But then, she surprises me. She pulls out a bag of homemade cookies! “Here, have one,” she says. I’m thinkin’, “Wow, maybe you’re not so bad after all.” I take a bite, and it’s like heaven. “These are amazing!” I tell her. She beams. Maybe I’ll let her complain more often if it comes with cookies.

Man hit with metal bar after fight breaks out in Cullompton town centre