–I'm a former sex worker. I was wondering why you didn't bother to tell the side of the prostitutes? They were just props for your narrative, faceless and nameless women you fucked, fictionalized, and forgot about. Your movie is an insult to prostitutes and to women, how do you explain yourself?
Half the theater turned around to see this former sex worker who had ambushed the director. Pat sank in his seat and fanned his fingers over his face. She must’ve rehearsed that, Pat thought.
The director thrust his hands in the pockets of his corduroy jacket, pushed out his bottom lip, and furrowed his brow in a way that suggested her complaint was fair, but hard to judge.
–I understand your point of view. But I’m not a prostitute, I was the man addicted to them, and so it follows that I can’t tell that story, the story of the prostitutes.