Pansy showed up on the day and the time, at the street corner where she was instructed, with six slightly crisp ten dollar bills in her pocket. She was one of those girls who always looked relaxed, always looked on the cutting edge of punk fashion from fifteen years ago. Her hair was a mess, her make up smudged, and her fingernail polish chipped.
She leaned against the building and looked around, waiting for a dude with long hair.