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Amsterdam's red light district. Some rights reserved by furanda.

Sex, love and commerce

The debate over prostitution

I was alone when the bell rang at my internship site, a church in a gritty neighborhood on Chicago’s South Side. I opened the door just a few inches, but the woman outside pushed her way in with ease. She introduced herself hastily as “Ms. Bliss” and asked for someone who wasn’t there. As I talked to her she started to push on the front of my pants with her hand. I pushed her hand away. She said, “It’s OK. It ­doesn’t matter that you’re a pastor.” Taken wholly by surprise, I ushered her quickly to the door and back onto the street.


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