Ariana is a regular at Help, Rio de Janeiro’s hooker central, the hub of sex tourism there. I’ve known her since my first trip to Brazil in 2003. I started out as a client, but we’ve since become good friends. I adore her. On my latest trip, we went to eat at a 24-hour diner in Copacabana. (Funny how I never knew about that diner before. The place is so Americanized.) I was telling Ariana about my latest “drama” with a working girl, Emma. I’d also started out as Emma’s client, but we quickly evolved into something more “substantial.” Now, though, Emma wanted to take it back a notch, insisting that I pay each time for her company. Wake up, Joe! Ariana told me. “Don’t you know by now that all of Rio’s prostitutes are actresses, and this stuff about love is all an act?”

When does it become more than an act, I asked her. What if you end up meeting a working girl and staying together for six months or a year, and there’s no money involved anymore except the usual boyfriend spending on girlfriend kind of stuff? You still can’t be sure, Ariana said.

What if you end up marrying the girl and spending a life together? Is it still all an act? If that’s the case, then all relationships involve a degree of acting. Maybe there’s no such thing as genuine love. Only people convincing themselves–and each other–that they really love their partner. I think Ariana agreed that I might have a point.

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