Somewhere on Reality Me or Domestic Psychology is the story of my indiscretions. Yes, I picked up a prostitute once and it became public. Well, I cannot pick you up anymore*. Unlike Dick Cheney’s wife, and Spitzer’s wife, my wife will not stand behind me.
Slate asks why is prostitution illegal?
*I can’t find the post relating the story, so for those that missed it, I was working late downtown once. It was about midnight when I pulled up to a traffic light at Summit Avenue and Gay Street (thank you Knoxville for allowing me to use the words prostitute and gay in the same post) in the Jeep with the top down. A lady walks up and asks for a ride. Being a nice guy, I let her in. Half a block later it has become blatantly evident that I was being very naive and I was politely telling her to get out. I suppose, for the sake of knowledge, I should have at least asked, "how much?"