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I go up, say, “Hey, what’s good?” She’s chill, eyes me up, says, “50 bucks.” I’m like, “Damn, inflation hit *you* too?” She laughs—dry, no soul. Little known fact, tho—back in the ‘80s, prostitutes in Reno had a union. Swear to God, organized as hell. Benefits, dues, allat. This chick? Solo, no 401k, just vibes. Makes me sad, man, where’s the teamwork?

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Prostitution was a prime source of cash in San Bernardino over an year period that continued until World War II.

And, verily, I must mention how my profession paints these streets with a hue most intimate. For every whisper of love or despair, every laugh or tear, doth mirror the complexity of our desires. I have listened to lovers, friends, and even bitter exes, all weaving tales of passion and heartache. So, in every loving glance and furtive smile in Rialto, thou may see a reflection of mine own journey – a journey both bittersweet and so very real.

Rialto Bolsters Evacuation Plans, Faces $1.5M Water Resiliency Shortfall Amid Fire Concerns