At the end of work on a Friday, I headed over to PharmX to meet Ishmael. He’d told me the day before I was going with him to a movie, and “no” was unacceptable. I’d gotten used to his not-so-subtle manhandling ways. It was nice, actually, to be fussed over.
I’d continued to share things with him about life on the streets. He’d driven me home a few times, and in that tiny apartment, we’d eaten yogurt and talked about the books we’d read. I learned about what he’d done after high school, and how he’d come to work at PharmX. He learned that I’d sucked people off for cash. I still felt the shame and desperation of that time. He asked me if I’d ever done it for real with anyone, and I’d said “no.” Come to think of it, it was after that conversation that he’d “strongly encouraged” me to go to t
