This explained nothing it only described a well-practiced skill: identifying generous men who liked boys, attracting them, admiring them, accepting their gifts, servicing them with your own.
You go to the club, you look for them, and you flirt with them,” he modestly laid out. All of this fascinated me, though it made him uneasy to say it out loud. Occasionally, they did this dressed as women. They each made a living by entangling themselves with rich, older men, whether that meant being their “boyfriends” or picking them up from a bar for the night. He and his roommate were both thin, shaved all over, on the cusp of adulthood, and estranged from their families somewhere in Southern California. (Vegas is a whole catalyst in itself for whoredom, but that’s a story for another time.) We met through a hookup app but mostly spent those few weeks driving around, lying around, and indulging a mutual curiosity about how much either of us could matter to the other.
I made one of these friends when I was 18, during a month visiting Las Vegas, the city where I grew up.
Got into sex work because it felt like all my friends were doing it.
