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I was 18 at the time, and I was helping out a friend with her car wash to raise funds for a trip to North Africa by holding up a sign at the end of the block asking people to stop by. An elderly man stopped, and I walked up to his car window to talk to him.
He asked me, “How much?” I thought he was asking how much the car wash cost, and I responded that it was free but donations were encouraged. He added, “No, how much for you?” I was shocked, and all I could respond was, “I’m not for sale, so maybe you should leave.” He just leered and drove away. I was afraid he might come back, but I didn’t tell anyone about it. It frightened me that he didn’t seem to care how old I was; for all he knew I was underage.
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