A john in the midst of a service is not what I expected this morning. And by john I mean the kind with his pants down around his ankles not the kind that would give a legal reason to have your pants down around your ankles.

But on a slightly gray Thursday morning, when the desire to stay in bed and read barely lost out to the desire to pay rent, I walked out of my front door to an old red hatchback parked haphazardly in the cul-de-sac. At first glance I thought it was a girlfriend or wife lying in the lap of her man talking…only she wasn’t talking.

The details are too graphic to share but much the image is ingrained in my brain.

I started to call the police, once the shock faded, but they were long gone. Mostly I want them to understand not in my cul-de-sac, not in my neighborhood. I didn’t hear them drive away – I guess the shock rendered me deaf. I hope my interruption rendered them…finished…for the day and for futures on my doorstep.

The odd thing is, for all the problems evident on my block and its surroundings-the freeway behind us, multiple liquor stores, not grocery store, no parks or green space- prostitution never crossed my mind. I rarely see women, or rather women I would confuse for prostitutes. I see women with their children, young girls in girl herds walking to and from school…

I’m not sure why it affected me so…maybe it will fade. In the meantime I’m looking to get active in our neighborhood watch group…I’m a neighbor and unfortunately, I’ve already watched…

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