Well, here's a milestone. Tonight, for the first time in my life, someone on the street offered to get me a prostitute. "Nick" was poor, wretchedly skinny and nearly toothless, but he matched me stride for stride over the course of my ten minute walk to the hotel after dinner. My impromptu guide to life pitched and pitched hard--his goal was clearly spare change, but he aimed to earn those coins. First it was massage and "boom boom!," then he outlined the ages of the hookers (17! 16! 15 . . . ), grinning and gesturing towards some passing preadolescent girls to demonstrate his point. As we walked, I got a basic education in Filipino whoring (the hotel desk clerk will know where to find someone, I can get clean girls, payment is by the hour and there's never an overnight rate, it's crazy cheap, etc.) Strip clubs made a brief appearance on the menu. Nick could see I wasn't biting and even floated a potential alternative, without presumption: "you want go to a gay bar down here?" He also discoursed on tourist attractions and claimed to be able to point me in the direction of much better housing deals than my own.
Then he asked me for money. I gave him 6 pesos. He asked for 10 more. I did not give him 10 more, and I said goodnight.