Hookers made me miss my stop

Three prostitutes were seated across from me on the Port Authority Trans Hudson Interstate Rail System last Saturday night as I was on my way into New York City. From left to right they were: very pretty, mildly slutty and sort of middle class normal looking (and extremely attractive); very slutty but clean (and attractive); and extremely slutty and down-and-out looking. Naive and un-streetwise fool that I am, it takes me a couple minutes of staring to realize that these young ladies are on their way to work. Selling themselves in the street. Not having been laid for a while, and being a horny bastard even on a good day, I find the whores rather provocative, but also depressing and, in the case of the one on the right, repulsive. If I were their dad I would not want them sucking men’s dicks for cash. At their age, they should be college students or something respectable like that. Then again, perhaps their dad is dead or in prison or too drunk to give a fuck. It’s so sad. I wonder what they charge for a blowjob. I wonder how that figure compares to the amount of cash in my pocket.
Thus lost in so much pointless thought, I miss my stop at 14th Street and end up amazed to find myself getting out of the train with the whores at 23rd Street. So I walked back downtown.