Michael stumbled into the brothel on the outskirts of Nevada at two in the morning. He hadn't slept in three days, eaten for four or shaved in ten. The woman behind the counter with tired eyes and a warm smile read through the price list.
"It's thirty for a handjob, fifty for oral or a hundred for everything."
Michael opened his wallet and sighed.
"What can I get for a buck?"
The kind woman recognised the sadness in Michael's eyes and took pity on him.
"A hug." she said. "My name's Jennifer, by the way". She wrapped her arms around him and he felt the troubles of the past two weeks melt away. After a minute or so he broke away and handed her the dollar.
Three days later, sitting in a diner in the middle of nowhere, Michael read a story in the paper about a prostitute named Jennifer who had been beaten to death by her pimp for giving a hug for a dollar - The going rate for a hug being ten.