But the thing about the sex trade, Giselle had told me, was that even at the semi-amateur level it begins to define your life. You become, she said, the kind of person who carries condoms and Viagra in her purse. So why do it, when she could have taken, say, a night job at Wal-Mart? That was a question she didn’t welcome and which she answered defensively: “Maybe it’s a kink. Or maybe it’s a hobby, you know, like model trains.” But I knew she had run away from an abusive stepfather in Saskatoon at an early age, and the ensuing career arc wasn’t difficult to imagine. And of course she had the
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